#nor the /j tone tag
Note
Preference: technically none but game wise I much prefer the dudes in this game they are just silly little guys- but I love the girls too don’t get me wrong
I am a huge theater kid who loves tragedies and dramas not a huge musical theater kid but I DEFINITELY know some broadway soundtracks
I listen to music religiously and cry when I eat good food because it makes me feel happy to eat good food
I like living in the middle of no where because it’s dark and quiet at night but I do enjoy seeing the city for fun little things- like a mall or a bookstore :)
I am a recovering emo /j
And I play video games like I will die if I stop
Hiya! Thanks for your patience in waiting for this to come out. I'm trying to ease myself back into writing so I thought this would be fun. :)
Anyways, I match you with...
Elliott!
I think the elephant in the room here is the mention of your appreciation of theatre. Elliott right with you there in that boat. He's a lover of all forms of storytelling, and with that all genres, so he could definitely get behind your love of tragedy. You two will cry over a good film, too.
Elliott's also a musician, so the whole appreciation of good music is right up his alley. While he prefers a more classical approach to the funky sound waves, he'll come to appreciate your taste in music, too (just please give him some time if it's something like metal. He won't hate on it it's just wayy out of his range /lh).
Oh, and he's a total snob for food, so expect to only get the Good Shit.
Again, he can relate to the likes of living in a remote(-ish) area. It's only him and Will-ol'-Willy that reside on the beach, and let's be honest if the game maps actually lined up there would be a much bigger difference in distance from beach to town (even more so in my HCs).
You mentioned leaving your home to go to a bookstore, which is another big-ticket Elliott item. You two will head out and just browse around the books for a while. He'll pick out his favourites from the shelf (the same ones he gets every time) and show them off to you. You'll end up taking a whole stack home so he can research for his next up-coming novel.
He's also a fan of the mall, believe it or not. He's got quite the eye for fashion (at least in his genre) and always knows the best stores to go to. Him and Haley have bonded over that, and sometimes if you're friends with them her and Emily will come along!
Video games aren't really his forte, but he's willing to try them out. Maybe enlist Sebastian or Abigail to help you out. They'll be willing to do it, just as long as you can keep Elliott from going on one of his rambles (and maybe spare them a cool thing or two).
As someone who knows near-nothing about emos, on the chance you were one (just taking into consideration the '/j'), he probably finds it a little weird. Still, Elliott's Elliott, and it's one of his goals to come to appreciate all things in life - even the things he doesn't know as well. Probably goes on a tangent about your 'recovery' if you phrase is like that. Lol.
#ieatsmallorphansnamedtom#sdv matchmaking#swearing tw#food tw#i really don't have a good grasp on what emo is#nor the /j tone tag#im /nm /lh /pos /gen about that btw#I find it funny I don't know what it is#ANYways hope you enjoyed!#I'm going to close up matchups after I post this but I do want to say (and I'll say it in the post):#If there's someone you don't want a matchup with (for whatever reason) let me know#if you've already submitted a matchup dw yours will be fine
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
3:00 a.m - j. wonwoo
»best friend!¡wonwoo x fem!¡reader.
»Summary: wonwoo’s phone rings religiously at 3 a.m. every night.
»Tags: smut (MDNI), nicknames (pretty doll, darling), nonidol au, blood, mention of edged weapons, management of sulfuric acid, wonwoo is two years older than reader, reader15¡!, wonwoo17¡!, yandere behavior, wonwoo is an instigator.
nota: Super hyper mega late spooky season little thingy because wonwoo looked so cute on today’s gose.
note 2: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes.
»Words: 1.3k
The ring of the phone filled the room, making an echo in the wall and vibrating over the table.
Wonwoo looked at the phone rumbled over the nightstand, not moving a muscle, still sitting on the edge of his bed.
Ring, ring, ring.
"Ah, y/n?" He asked you as he answered the call, not paying attention to the name of the caller in the phone.
An affirmative sound was heard on the other end of the line.
"What happened?" He asked with a soft voice "You calling at this hour..."
Your blank yet sweet tone interrupted him "Oppa, can you come over, please?" you asked impassively.
"Right now?" Wonwoo queried with a smile in his tone.
"Yes, it is extremely important, I need your help to load some things" you answered with a very sweet tone.
"Okay, I get it" he said, confirming what you needed "Which place?"
•||
"Y/n?" He called your name at the entrance of the old house, looking for something in his bag. "I'm coming in," he warned, closing the squeaky door behind him.
Wonwoo walked slowly in the dark corridor of the house carefully to not touch anything nor bump into anything, until he got to the back door. He gasped at the sight of you sitting beside a girl with the same uniform of your school, but when he saw your smile, even if your face was splashed with blood, it calmed him.
"It looks like this time you made it very extravagant too, pretty doll" your friend said giggling softly.
"I'm sorry for calling you so late," you said, insecure, making weird figures on the floor with the splattered red fluid, due to the cute nickname.
In fact, it was three in the morning, but you were there in front of him with your face painted in carmine just like your clothes, and you also had a small ax in your right hand, covered completely in the thick substance, Wonwoo thought to himself that you matched perfectly the ungodly hour.
"Don't worry, it doesn't bother me, because it’s you" his voice caressed your ears like honey while he was still looking for something in his bag.
A victorious sound came out of his mouth when he finally found it "Take here" he said lending to you a plastic bag with clean clothes "You have to change your clothes, I brought you some of the things you have in my house"
"Ooh, thank u, Wonwoo '' you went to hug him, but he stopped you.
"Go take a shower, I'll clean here" he demanded, putting on gloves.
You nodded and went quickly to take a bath. Wonwoo fixed his scarf leaving the ends in his back so they wouldn't get stained, he looked closely at the dead girl and finally remembered her, she was his desk-mate in chemistry, understandably he didn't recognize her at first glance, the fair skin of her face was covered in cuts and scratches.
That day... he helped her carry some papers to the principal's office, probably you didn't know her. He looked at the girl with a tired expression and opened his mouth.
"Y/n!, what do you think is faster!?, clean everything with water or get it all out through the back door!?" He shouted high enough for you to hear him.
"I would only use a bucket to do it" you yelled in response and Wonwoo could help but chuckle.
"Of course you would" he mumbled getting out of his duffle bag a container with sodium peroxide, he got up and exited the house, grabbing the bucket beside the tap that was sticking out of the house, the water was freezing cold, he continued, putting a layer of the yellowish powder in the water.
He entered once again, still hearing the shower upstairs, he knelt and started to clean, the ceramic was starting to look more and more white, making Wonwoo feel proud, and at the same time, the girl's body was starting to become a hindrance.
•||
"Uff" sighed the man zipping the black duffel bag.
The chirp of the wooden stairs makes him notice that you finally had finished washing.
"Welcome back" Wonwoo said brightly, while you finished putting your glove in your right hand.
"I'm wrapping up here" he commented grabbing the huge bag where the body was hidden, he lifted it and put it in his shoulder, and you looked at him with your mouth shut
"Let's go"
You were walking in the little forest behind the house, stepping through the trees, sticks breaking below your feet, you couldn't stop biting onto your lower lip nervously.
"Oppa, I'm sorry" your tone was solemn, and the older heart ached a little.
"Hm? Because...?"
"You know… for always being like this” you answered looking at your fingers.
"That's okay, Darling, I'm good with tough work, besides if you carry something so heavy you would become shorter" he joked with a beautiful smile getting close to you to caress your damp hair.
Both of you continued your stroll until you got to a familiar place, it was remote and isolated, very deep into the forest.
"Hey, y/n" he called out, dropping the hefty bag on the floor, now grabbing the shovels that were being held by you, "perhaps, do you like me?"
"I'm not sure" you didn't know what your feelings were, for all you know when you looked at him, you just wanted him to be yours, and only yours.
"I see," Wonwoo whispered with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, both starting to dig in the floor.
You kept digging and digging in silence until the hole was deep and vast enough to fit the body in, once the now naked body was in the improvised tomb, you talked again.
"You definitely hate this part of me, right?" You muttered sadly, looking from the corner of your eye how Wonwoo opened a gallon of sulfuric acid -that he had stolen as from his chemistry lab- and poured it onto the girl's body, putting emphasis on her face.
Jeon hurriedly left the container on the floor and went straight to you.
"Not completely" his calloused hands stroked your cheeks sweetly, his honeyed voice was serious, eyes shimmering with adoration.
"I love you"
"Only you"
"I love you desperately"
The red invaded your face, your flesh was burning under the soft touch of his hands, a timid smile slipping from your lips.
"Okey" you stumbled feeling tender at his words.
Wonwoo grabbed your chin and cupped your lips with his own, the warm embrace making you moan happily, lips dancing and melting together.
•||
"Fuck, it's pouring rain, don't you think?" He said, making a pouting while you looked at him with a big smile.
His eyes fixated on a girl who was classmates with one of his friends, she looked sad at the rain, whispering to herself something about having to stay there all day due to the heavy rain.
"Where's your umbrella?" Wonwoo asked you, with curious kitty eyes.
Your face had a question mark painted on it, and you looked at your bag.
"Is here" you moved your bag jokingly, still smiling .
He smiled at you nodding and went to the blonde girl.
"Excuse me" he called out to the girl whom saw him with intrigue.
"Yeah?"
"You can have my umbrella, my friend and I live in the same neighbourhood, so there is no problem, you can lend it back later" his voice was sweet and the cheeks of the blonde were tinted in a cute shade of pink.
You saw them, and the smile that was brightening your face was nowhere to be seen, eyes glaring at the girl, when you saw your friend turn in your direction your face moved quickly to keep watching the rain.
"Y/n, I don't have an umbrella, mind to share?"smile favouring his pretty face.
"It's okay" You said in a mutter, barely perceptible.
Wonwoo was there, once again, sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in hand, smile drawn in his face while looking at the dark screen, eyes dropping off instantly in the clock on his bed-site, 3:00 a.m screaming in a green fluorescent light.
His phone vibrated in his hand, an obnoxious melody filling the room annoyingly.
"Hello, y/n?"
#I completely forgot about this 🫥#seventeen#svt#wonwoo I love you#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#wonwoo#jeon wonu#wonu#svt wonu#jeon wonwoo#seventeen wonu#seventeen horror#svt horror#svt wonwoo#seventeen wonwoo#wonwoo x reader
77 notes
·
View notes
Text
— TEASER —
Material is subject to change in post editing.
“SIREN, BE BOUND TO ME III”
Now posted here!
A/N: Here's a little sneaky peek at the final part of SBBTM. And may I just say... over 700 notes on the first part?! WHAT??? THAT'S INSANE TO ME! Like wow, to see soooo many people enjoying it, it just blows my mind. I also just wanna do a quick taglist test run, if you could just either confirm that you get tagged properly or not, that would be awesome.
For this test, I have typed out the users, but a few needed the copy and paste because it wouldn't show up in the list.
(Dark) Pirate! Bucky Barnes x Siren! Female Reader
— READER DISCRETION —
— Pirate (dark). Bucky. — possessive, slightly horny Bucky — pet names ("Siren") — minor profanity — I think that's it?
Enjoy the excerpt!
—- not my gif, credit to original poster! -—
A dark and foreboding structure from behind, his lower half is pressed against your back, your lungs jump at the contact, lips parting with a startled gasp that now tremble slightly. Your eyes become wide, held captive by his lustful glare. The song plays quietly, tickling the back of your mind, its presence more ghostly than before, slowly succumbing to silence. Its tune haunts you with longing to be found before time escapes it.
His flesh hand runs over the column of your throat, able to feel every gulped breath and the quickened pulse of your heartbeat under his touch.
“I have something for you,” he says deeply, stirring you. “Been meaning to have my name on you for some time.”
Your brows form into a puzzled arch. From the leather strap of his belt, your captain’s metal fingers meet a cord of silver. The matching metal coin adorning the chain sways as he lifts it into view, and obediently, you sweep aside any lingering locks of hair and angle your chin. It’s cold against your skin, and in comparison to size, the coin nestles low between the valley of your breasts and down against the bottom of your sternum, covered barely by your robe that loosely sits around your shoulders.
“Fuck, you look so beautiful with my name ‘round your neck,” he groans, hand returning to caress your throat. His eyes admire the way your chest rises and falls, the engraved head of a snarling wolf reflecting in the soft candlelight.
You stare, eyes wide in your admirable study of the piece yourself, seeing how it… fits you, coldly and harshly and yet so rightly. “I do?”
“Aye,” he says with a grin. “And since I got a piece of you, may as well match.”
Your fingers toy with the medallion, thumb rolling over the engraved markings on the side that kisses your skin.
J. A. M. E. S.
B.
B. A. R. N. E. S
Each letter is one taught and now known to you. One by one, you pronounce them internally, spelling the name of your beloved captain, a man whose name you’ve never once said aloud. Nor has he ever said yours. Does he even know yours?
The tone of his growl betrays the cool of his demeanour, giving away the hunger of seeing you with your hair like it is, it has an unruly affect on him only he can understand. Could you do it now? Lure him in, satiate his carnal desires and take the necklace?
TREEHOUSE TAGLIST
@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic @mostlymarvelgirl @daddy-bucky @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @armystay89 @oscarissac2099
#female reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#pirate au#siren reader#pirate bucky#james bucky buchanan barnes#dark bucky x reader#dark bucky barnes#bucky barnes x female reader
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
(No Minors. Not on this post, go read some warrior cats and be ''cringe''.)
Last warning...
For the adults who don't read tags, it's Sunny Day Jack below the cut.
anyways.. have some Sunny Day Jack nsfw short stories~
(this wasnt proofread nor am i incredibly experienced in writing this sort of stuff soo... forgive any lack of correct words-ing)
reader types listed before smut
GN Reader
Jack's gloved hands rested on your hips, holding you as you sit in his lap and slowly grind against him.
"You're doing so good for me, Sunshine~" His voice quivered lightly as breathy moans left his mouth, "J-Just like that.."
You were doing some of the movement sure, put his hands held and guided you more than you moved yourself. Jack was still fully clothed yet you could very easily feel him through the layers of clothes. You, however, were basically just in underwear and nothing more. The friction had your legs shaking as you clung onto his shirt, a decent bundle of the fabric clumped up into your hand as the other hand clung to his jacket the same way.
"I'm so proud of you, Sunspot~" Jack's voice traveled in a heated breath down your neck and to your ear in a deep and perverse tone, "I'm so glad you trust me enough to do this, Sunshine."
You were a flustered, moaning mess as he managed to remove a layer between the two of you, his hand grinding your hips onto his with a little more force as if he could feel how much you needed to be closer.
"Nobody else can make you feel this good. I'm all you need, you don't need anybody but me...." He was right next to your ear with a warm breathy voice, "..right?"
Female Reader
This... was the LAST thing you expected him to know how to do. Maybe not the last last but you definitely didn't think he knew how to tie like this. The ropes held snug against your skin as Jack's hands wandered over your body. You can't say you expected him to be so convincing when he suggested doing this either.
"Does this feel good?" he said, you were on his chest at the moment and his voice buzzed up and to you. He kissed and sucked at your thighs, covering them in hickeys in his wake. As his hands moved you could feel him shifting under you, only when you felt his breath between your legs did you go to question him.
"J-Jack?! What are you doing?"
"I'm showing just how much I love you, Sunshine~" He said, starting to eat you out.
And proving you don't need that date you tried to take, i can make you feel so much better then they ever will..
His hands grip onto your thighs while you squirm from his tongue, his thumb rubbing circles on you.
"It's alright to want this, Sunspot. It's okay, let go and just bask in your feelings~”
Male Reader
Jack; invisible to everyone but you (and Shaun, mortitian family = able to see ghosts apparently?) and invisible to everyone but himself in a mirror. You would think that'd be something you'd get used to; it's not. Especially during times like this. When Jack found out that little mirror fact he started using mirrors to his dirty dirty advantage. Which explains why you're up on the bathroom sink after a shower. Panting as he slams into you again and again, your nails digging into his back and clawing their way down, and Jack, coating your neck with hickeys and kisses. You have a clear view of the mirror behind him, able to see him making a hickey closer to your collarbone and the oddity that is looking wide open in the mirror but feeling... so full. As if he is and isn't there..
"You're taking me so well, Sunshine, I'm so proud of you~" His voice is practically in your ear with how close to you he sounds and is close with how he feels. One of his hands snaking down, stroking you as he gets closer in an attempt to bring you closer than he is.
"You're doing so good for me, keeping quiet as I asked too~" Jack kissed up your neck, "You're so amazing." It wasn't long before the whole thing was over, though your legs shook longer.
#NSFT#sunny day jack#something's wrong with sunny day jack#sdj#swwsdj#yandere smut#yandere short smuts#tw supernatural
182 notes
·
View notes
Note
Don't reveal the name of the authors obviously, but can you give an example of the sjm style affecting some of the stuff you've edited?
and the other ask i got about it!
Can you elaborate on the effect Sarah J. Maas has had on romance novels?
now, to be fair, i want to preface this by saying that sjm isn't the only author to do some of these things or utilize some of these habits in her writing, nor is she necessarily the first. however, given her sheer popularity and readership and the very obvious influence she has on many, many writers, i'm inclined to blame her for some of these habits i've picked up.
male/female everything, from voices, to laughter, to body parts, to expressions, to emotions. sure, it's the most obvious (and she's not the only one to do this, nor the first, but see my aforementioned reasoning for pinning this on her) but it is everywhere. i've edited my fair share of fantasy romance novels and, while not all of them have fallen prey to this, enough of them have that i've noticed the pattern. luckily, most of the authors i've edited have been willing to edit their books (i always explain why i advise editing that particular choice of words). i like to say that, if i can't edit sjm, i can at least edit her readers
an emphasis on the gender binary separate from gendering genderless things like the aforementioned voices or body parts. "men or women"/"male or female" is always used rather than "people". queens and kings exist rather than just royalty. etc. and sure this isn't exclusive to sjm bc it's a pervasive thing in society, too, but imma blame her anyway bc she's a huge culprit for enforcing the gender binary
epithets. goddamn epithets. if i have to read one more character refer to themselves in their own internal narration as "the prince" or "the fae" imma lose it
sex scenes relying far too much on metaphor and simile and grand but vague explanations of what's going on while the female character "shatters" when she climaxes and the male character roars way too often. i cringe. i've written and edited my fair share of sex scenes, so i do know what i'm about.
this next point could just be an author not quite understanding grammar, so i will allow a bit of leeway here, but given they have many of the habits sjm does, i'm more inclined to believe it's bc they pick it up from her: when questions do not end in question marks, as if they're meant to be some emphasized shittalk. if a character is asking "What's wrong?" there should be a question mark, not a period, even if the character is saying it in a way that doesn't end with the uptick of a question. proper grammar is important, and that's why dialogue tags exist. if you want to explain how a character is asking a question, do it like "What's wrong?" she asked, tone flat. OR "What's wrong?" she asked, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.
on that note, when every. single. statement. or every. single. movement. is aggrandized to the point where every. single. scene. and every. single. moment. carries the same weight and i can never feel like i can catch a breath.
women being super skinny and conventionally beautiful and sarcastic and badass while men are super muscular and handsome and broody and can't ever smile bc whoops that'd be gay or some such nonsense. or when a close friendship between two men is forcibly described as brotherly to avoid even the slightest inclination toward people shipping them. now don't get me wrong, i love a good bromance, i love when two characters are so close they're practically brothers. but there's a difference between writing a close brother-like friendship and two characters going overboard on calling one another "brother" so that people will feel squicky about shipping them. see, for instance, how sjm wrote Cassian and Azriel in acosf. she went above and beyond to emphasize their brotherly relationship, while also giving us backstory of the two of them having sex with women in the same room as one another (Rhysand was there, too). now idk about sjm, but i would absolutely not be having sex in the same room as any of my siblings, while Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand do. sure, they call one another "brother" all the time, but then there's moments like that that leave me ఠ _ ఠ
fragments everywhere to the point i start to feel like i'm being electrocuted by how stilted dialogue and sentences are
assumed heterosexuality. this goes beyond just the "female" and "male" constancy but to men being assumed to have wives, for women to be assumed to want the Typical Marriage, etc
hhhhhhhhhh idk there's doubtless more but spring allergies are killing my brain, so i'll leave it there. i stuck it under a read more so i could add more as i think of them
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
INTRODUCTION POST*.✧
HELLO THERE EVERYONE!! ^_^
I'm Cosmicx, but I also go by Cos or Kyu! Any name you call me is fine.
Though I am cis, I use any pronouns. My sexuality is unlabeled, but I am also polyam.
——————————————————✧
★ I am a minor, and I'm just trying to have fun drawing and posting here. I like interacting with fans and friends, but do please remember that I am not only a person on the internet, but a person irl. So do know that I have boundaries and am capable of human feelings and emotions.
★ I have an art style crisis a lot and will constantly change my art style, so please bare with me.
——————————————————✧
» I pretty much post and make sans au content, even sans OCs. I myself am a sanscest shipper and a multishipper, so if youre not a big fan of that, you don't have to interact with me!
» I REALLY love Errorink. They are my faves and I love them so much :(
» I love ships like Errorink, Destructivedeath(reaper x geno), Sci x Fell, Dream x Swap, Kustard, Dudebruh/Crepic, Swap x Outer(pls hear me out on them), Crossmare, Kross, etc!
» I have a huge liking for Swap and Nightmare.
——————————————————✧
« I will say that I *am* autistic, and do need tone tags because sometimes I can't tell someone's tone in text. Tone tags are things such as /j(joking), /hj(half joking), /nf (not forcing), /p(platonic), etc! It'd really help if you could use them.
« There will be times when I take jokes too seriously, overreact, am being sensitive, send paragraphs if I'm being a nerd, etc., so forgive me if it annoys you 💔
——————————————————✧
× Not only will I post art/shit post art and doodles here, but I'll probably have rambles and rants about random things. They could be ships, headcanons, scenarios, even normal or odd things. I like to talk and let what I think. Like earlier, I am a HUGE nerd.
× Also if anybody has read Neverworld Wake by Marisha Pessl PLEASE TALK TO ME I'M BEGGING. I need to nerd out about it with people.
——————————————————✧
DNI
Basic DNI List
• Racists, homophobes, transphobes, any of that sort
• OC x Canon haters along with Sona x Canon haters (what's wrong with people having fun..)
• Proshippers, darkshippers, whatever label they go by. I don't want any of those interacting with me whatsoever. Proship/darkship neutral. I don't want them interacting with me either. I don't tolerate nor do I like it or the people who are these. I do not wish to start drama, do not interact with me whatsoever.
• Like the above, people who support/like incest, non-con, dubcon, lolicon, etc. Shit's gross.
• Dreammare shippers(it doesn't matter which au or anything. I don't wanna hear it.), fontcest shippers
——————————————————✧
° I like to roleplay. A lot. It's fun.
° I will admit, I am cringe...! But as long as I'm having fun.
° To anyone interested in my OCs and are curious about shipping them with your OC or sona, I do not mind it at all in any way unless it is deemed problematic to me. Have fun with them man, ship my sans with yours or your ocs, ship yourself with my sanses, I don't care!! I do the same anyways
——————————————————✧
That pretty much concludes this! I'll add anything else if I need to... If you wanna know more about me, just ask and I'll answer(though if it's a little too personal I'm not answering LOL). Hope we can be friends if anyone wants to be!
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
RAAAAAAHHHH!!!
! WARNIING: AUTISTIC AND REALLY BAD AT MASKING!
^ sorry if I say anything weird tell me if so
Hi my name is swinging pendulum!!! This is my side blog where I post personal stuff/shitposts
This is my main blog now because I had another account for the other one but my partner hijacked it es em ache
Platonic stuff only!!! Like “cute pie alert!!!” But platonically you know
I’m super bad at reading tone/catching social cues so tell me directly if I’ve accidentally made you uncomfortable I treat everyone like my best friends so I accidentally make a lot of people uneasy with that it’s not intentional!! I love you guys!!! Anything “mean” I accidentally say is 100% intended as a joke and not meant to be mean again please tell me directly if I do anything wrong (will most likely be labelled as /j unless I forget and it’s like 3 am)
Ummm that’s about it I like marvel comics Thor and Loki but I have my own versions in my head that have differentiated so far from the actual canon that you probably won’t even recognize them maybe I’ll draw the actual canon designs one day but today is not that day
I DO NOT SHIP THORKI NOR ANY OTHER INCEST, PEDOPHILIA, ZOOPHILE SHIP!!!
^ sorry it makes me uncomfortable
Sometimes I’ll randomly draw something from your page don’t be alarmed
I tag all my reblogs with #reblog unless it’s something important or I’m too lazy to tag it as such
I tag my art as #art (obviously)
Andddd I use the tags #marvel Loki in general to tag Loki as well as other characters!!! (Ex: marvel Thor in general) as to not be confused with actual myth characters and a actual specific canon
If I don’t that means I’m drawing a different variant of that character specifically!!!!
The tag basically means that it’s my personal view and take on the character that might differentiate from canon depending on my view of the character and it’s not one specific canon and it’s a bunch of different canons and lore tidbits all smashed into one character!!!
Sometimes I draw other stuff but don’t count on it
I have no clue on how to format posts sorry I’m learning
Bye!!! :D
(Like if you’ve seen this please)
((Also I do free art requests serious or silly just put the request in my goofy little ask box))
9 notes
·
View notes
Note
I have a Dream x Hob prompt. I would love a fic where Hob talks about being in or having had a relationship with a man, dude's hundreds of years old and I refuse to believe he never tried this, and Dream is just lowkey being jealous. Maybe he knows why, maybe he doesn't either way he's just mad someone else got to know Hob in ways he hasn't. Would love it even more if Hob just gushes on without realizing that Dream isn't just being all regular dark and broody, he's in Advanced Darkness and wants a name and that name's worst nightmares. Thank you. I would just love to see our emo boy being all jealous.
tags: none
(ao3)
“You appear to have a fondness for this magazine?” Dream said as he admired the framed covers hung up on Hob’s walls. The style was new to him, more sketch-like than the art he’d seen before his imprisonment. The mixture of men, women and children looked like dolls in some ways, almost all of the individuals had ruby red cheeks and the faces were familiar enough to suggest a single artist behind all of the pieces. A faded handwritten tag named the artist as ‘J. C. Leyendecker’ below each print.
“Hm? Oh, that. No, no interest in it, but the man who made the covers, old flame of mine. Damn good artist, couldn’t help but collect his pieces. Got a few originals tucked away,” Hob offered up just as easily as he did every aspect of his life for Dream.
Dream felt a flicker of something dark in his chest, it lashed out like the thump of a cat’s tail, a warning of its ire, “He drew for you?”
“Anything and everything, not just me. But he did paint me once or twice, can’t really loan those ones out to a museum though. People might catch on a bit, you should see what they say about Keanu Reeves,” Hob chuckled as he handed Dream a cup of steaming tea he’d been preparing as Dream snoped around his flat.
“You remember this artist fondly?” Dream questioned softly, no longer admiring the work.
“Joseph? Very, I always try to remember the ones I love. Gets difficult over time, wish I’d never pawned Eleanor’s portrait, can’t really remember what she looked like anymore,” he sighed sadly, an old grief that Dream recognised in himself.
“I’m sorry,” Dream offered though he knew from experience the words were never quite enough.
Hob smiled, it wasn’t as bright as some of his previous ones, tinged as it was by an old ache that had never fully healed, “Not your fault, learned from my mistakes anyway. I try to keep some things from old loves.”
Dream turned his attention from his friend to the artwork proudly displayed in his living room. There was little else of note in the room that Dream could guess at having belonged to someone other than Hob. To hold such value in Hob’s heart, the relationship must have meant a great deal to the immortal. The dark thing in Dream’s chest thrashed its tail more, a growl growing deep within it. It unsettled him how the fact of this relationship could upset him so.
“You loved him dearly, to keep his works in your home,” Dream pointed out.
“I did. We parted well, not always the case. Plus his work is beautiful, not really a hardship to hang it up,” Hob admitted with ease, why wouldn’t he. Why was Dream expecting him to hide his love affairs as though they were something to be ashamed of? He never had. Nor should he have to hide them. But it still set him on edge, a strange anger bubbling under the surface.
“You do not keep the trinkets of others here, just his,” Dream said and even he could hear the coldness of his tone, the accusation he had no right to lay out.
Hob appeared oblivious to this new mood as he sipped his own tea, “I try to keep with the fashion of the times. Minimalism is a hard one to shake, glad we’ve moved on from the white interiors, right pain to keep those clean. Clutter’s coming back in so I’ll probably bring some more stuff out of storage, not everything mind you, some of it’s too fragile. These are prints, good way to have him here without wrecking his originals.”
“How long were you together?”
“Only a few years, I didn’t stay in America long, England’s home for me,” Hob smiled fondly, though for the memories of his former lover or of his homeland Dream couldn’t guess. A voice within him that sounded too close to his siblings whispered spiteful things he didn’t want to examine too closely.
“Such a short time, yet a lasting impact,” Dream said, aiming for an aloof air and knowing he fell short by quite a distance.
“I seem to have a fondness for the quiet brooding ones,” Hob teased a touch tentatively as though worried he had a right to tease Dream anymore.
“You found him not long after our parting,” Dream surmised and he wished he could take back the words as Hob’s face dropped into something colder at the reminder.
“You mean after you threw a tantrum and ran out on me making me think I’d never see you again?” Hob reiterated as he left Dream’s side to flop down on the overstuffed sofa. His absence left a cold bitter wind in its wake and Dream shrunk just a little into the folds of his coat.
“I have apologised -“
“And I have accepted that, as I hope you will accept the fact that I needed more than one friend that I only saw every hundred years,” Hob pointed out and the truth of his words irked Dream. He was right as he had been in the White Horse Inn all those decades ago. It didn’t appear it was getting easier to accept that he wasn’t always right.
“I do not begrudge you your friendships,” Dream said, settling down into one of the armchairs, it hugged him and pulled him in. He shouldn’t be surprised by such comforts. Hob was a hedonistic creature, greedy for life and all it offered. His home reflected that in a way, comfort and warmth in equal measure. A sanctuary against the ever changing world that he could retreat too.
“But my lovers?”
Dream paused too long before offering a begrudging, “…nor them.”
Hob appeared unconvinced, rightly so, “Joseph was a good man, we loved each other.”
“I am glad,” Dream said, a pale offering that landed as heavy and as welcome as a brick.
“You hate him,” Hob said, lips twitching in amusement.
“I do not -“
“Calliope isn’t my favourite muse,” Hob interrupted and it was such a sudden change of subject that it took Dream a moment to process the absurdity of the statement.
“You dislike Calliope?” Dream asked slowly as though ensuring he had heard Hob correctly. Hob nodded.
“For the same reason you want to burn my art prints,” he explained and clarity snapped into place like a missing jigsaw piece.
“I do not wish to burn them,” Dream attempted to defend but it was a weak attempt.
“No?” Hob asked, almost laughing.
“…Perhaps replace them,” Dream admitted in a whisper he wouldn’t repeat if asked.
Hob heard him though, he seemed keenly aware of Dream in a way few were. He leant forward, elbows on his knees, as he fixed Dream with a warm, hopeful look. Dream suspected they had moved on from discussing art prints, “You can’t replace them. Any of them really. But you can join them if you’d like.”
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Get to know your fanfic writer!
tagged by @teamdilf thanks j!!
When did you post your first ever fanfic?
i mean theoretically somewhere around 2012 on facebook and now lost to time, but the first one i could actually link you was 2013. it was twispitefic, bella goes to hell to be judged, i tried to mimic smeyer's style and everything
First Character(s) you wrote?
liz and kidd from soul eater. thank god for SE saving me from admitting the much worse animes i got into after it.
Main Character(s) you’re currently writing?
all from mass effect, the arterius clan and associates (saren, desolas, nihlus, abrudas, avitus, and macen), cnclr sparatus and oc family, and i guess shepard's in here too somewhere maybe. also axilus madelivio, another oc character. my baby boy.
Character(s) you haven’t written about before but plan to write about soon?
i was about to say avi but there was a whole summer when andromeda came out that i wrote nothing but avitus/macen macen lives au so. :thunk: i mean for some halloweenie challenge stuff i'm about to dive a bit deeper into more of the sparatus clan who haven't gotten spotlight, esp katus and the sylidros side of the family - katus is sparky's great-grandfather, great mountain of a man, probably single-handedly responsible for several of his descendants' large sizes, and also had an encounter with some 3000-year-old war ghosts imprinted on the shortwave radio. also we're going to dive headfirst into garrus's squad pretty soon, i've meddled with the story and oops i'm attached to characters doomed to die again
Fandom(s) you’re currently writing?
mass effect lol
Platonic pairing(s) you’re currently writing?
Saren Arterius & Desolas Arterius, Sparatus & Quentius, Saren Arterius & Nihlus Kryik & Avitus Rix
Romantic pairing(s) you’re currently writing?
Desolas/Abrudas, Sparatus/OC, Saren/Nihlus, Avitus/Macen, Garrus/OC, Shepard/Jack, OC/OC
Your top AO3 tags?
Pre-Canon, AU - No Reapers, AU - Canon Divergence, Alien Culture, Developing Relationship, Grief/Mourning
Current platform you use for posting?
AO3
Snippet of the WIP you are currently working on?
have the start of itlog ch18 - if bioware can have random npcs pop up to pass on mission-specific leads, so can i, and these ones have their own series to go with them
--
If Jack had been nervy at mention of this mysterious "Haasn" before, Shepard was sure Narcisa leading them to one of the private rooms upstairs didn't help one bit.
Nor did the turian's chipper warning to don't take the captain too seriously or assurance that he's just mean to everyone. That made them feel worse. They were half tempted to go back downstairs and insist Nihlus go deal with it himself, or have the conversation over text if he was so determined not to relinquish his precious owed favor.
The lock turned green as soon as Narcisa knocked. Too late.
Narcisa herded them in before her, then sidestepped and snapped an off-kilter salute. "This is them, Boss," she announced into the dim room. "You need anything from downstairs quick, 'fore the rush starts?"
A low rumble rose, bouncing off the soundproofing so it was hard to tell where it was coming from. If Shepard squinted, they could just barely make out a large, hulking shape lazing across the couch across from them. "We ordered food, see if Rielle's got it," a dual-toned baritone slid out of the mass. "Thanks, Narcisa."
She chirruped, then disappeared, the door sliding shut behind her and cutting most of the lights. All Shepard could make out of Jack beside them was a weak outline cast by the singular overhead left on in the middle of the room.
Fabric slid across fabric. "So this is the mighty Shepard." The new voice was just this side of synthesized, as if coming through a speaker. Off to the left of the big shape, a row of lights Shepard assumed were part of the sound system blinked in and out, and two moved forward – eyelights. "Your mentor is a crafty bastard, you know."
Shepard grimaced. "You appear to have us at a disadvantage," they pointed out, trying to keep their voice level and polite. "Humans can't see very well in the dark."
The big one, a turian they assumed, snorted. "Yeah, Thie, where's your manners? You're sitting in front of the dimmer."
The eyelights narrowed, but before their owner spoke, one light winked out with a soft pap and a giggle. The figure heaved a sigh. “You know what else can’t see in the dark, Ax?”
The turian, Ax apparently, and Shepard tried very hard not to jump to conclusions about what it might be short for, snorted as the lights came up. The eyelights were, in fact, a quarian, a rather scruffy-looking one in a suit of sun-faded blue and lots of patchwork. Their mask was blue, too, but laced with translucent white etching in a stark, triangle-heavy pattern over where their cheekbones, forehead, and chin would be. One hand held back a little periwinkle asari child, who was sticking their tongue out playfully as they stretched out their chubby little baby arms towards them. “Your spawn.”
--
tagging @nightmarestudio606 @otemporanerys @heymacareyna and anybody else who wants to!
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Careful
Word Count: 711
Jody turns his head away from the gauze, his eyes narrowed at the brunette in warning.
“ If you don’t let me do this-I will make sure you’re ordered to take time off.” Rouen promises, returning the nasty expression. “ That shit doesn’t work with me.”
“ What. Shit.” The enraged man grits his teeth; with his hair being so disheveled and the mixture of dirt and blood that covers him, it’s no wonder why Reaper’s the only one who offered to deal with him.
Instead of answering him, the brunette places the gauze back in its packaging and turns on her heel; she’s ready whenever Jody reaches out for her, yanking her arm so he won’t be able to prevent her from leaving. “ Hey!” He barks when she makes a break for the door, “ Rouen please-”
“ Please what?” The Canadian spat at him in the same threatening tone he spoke in before.
“ Please fucking help me, alright?! Please it…it hurts.” Jody gestures to his head, the fingers on his right hand just as bloodied from being stomped and grinded on. “ It hurts so bad.”
Rouen tilts her head forward. Her friend returns to the seat and she opens a new pack of gauze, this time not waiting to press it on his head wound. “ What were you thinking…” She wipes some of the running blood, then tosses the stained material and opens another, this time neatly taping it down on the wound. “ These people-they’ll kill someone if enough of ‘em agree on it, you know what. You, J, nor I have made the best impression, so we need to be careful.”
She washes his injured hand and works on bandaging that, wrapping each finger before the palm of the hand. “ Go on-” Rouen’s eyes flicker up at Jody, “-what she’d say? What did you say? How’d the fight happen?”
Jody goes silent upon hearing the question. The French Canadian glances to his friend’s left, then to her right and his gaze remains on whatever is across the room. “ Roze made a comment, and I got upset.” He decides to answer. “ I’ll give credit where credit’s due-I know no ranger is someone to screw with, but she’s such an asshole, Rouge. Fuck-the other day when she shoved J because he was gonna grab her rifle by mistake? I don’t do shit like that.”
“ It’s not easy to be around her,” Rouen agrees. “ But, do you remember what Evan said?”
Jody narrows his eyes at her. “ We’re not here to make friends, we’re here to do our jobs.” He repeats mockingly. “ But I can’t do my job if I’m too busy having to worry about watching my own back, can I?” His brows raise when Rouen rolls her eyes at him. “ Go on-tell me I’m wrong and Stiletto totally didn’t try to slice you up two weeks ago. Tell me, Rouge, go on-you know you wanna.”
The brunette shushes him and places her fingers over his mouth. Jody immediately licks them, earning him a slap on the slap on the shoulder. “ Idiot!” Rouen scolds him before collecting her supplies. “ Listen, I know it’s tough-we all do-but you just gotta try and adjust okay? You find yourself near someone you think will get on your nerves-”
“ I gotta distance myself.” The brunet looks Rouen in the eyes while recalling the line. “ I get, I get it, I get it.”
He runs his fingers through his hair, roughs it up as much as possible, somehow always managing to forget that he gets it cut before going back out into the field. “ Thanks for patching me up, Rouge.” Jody mumbles, letting out a heavy sigh after. “ We should…”
“ Go before they say something, right.” Rouen nods, though it takes her a minute to process what they’re actually doing. She, too, does not want to return among the soldiers that she has to force herself not to return a glare at, not to open her mouth when they converse about her when she’s in the room, to always double check that her gun is with her before she goes to sleep at night.
She eventually leaves, and it doesn’t take Jody long to follow her out. The only thing worse than having to go undercover is doing it alone.
Tagging: @voidika @shegetsburned @jinfromyarikawa @scentedcandleibex
#didnt wanna finish it here but it was kinda sitting in my drafts#cod au#cod coyote#joseph chatelain#cod reaper#rouen blake#fic#cod au fic
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Litost by Helholden, Part 3
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Warnings: Mature, No Archive Warnings Apply, F/M, Work in Progress
Relationship(s): Galadriel/Sauron, Galadriel/Halbrand (The Rings of Power)
Tags: Prisoner of War, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Good and Evil, Good versus Evil, Existentialism, Existential Crisis, Existential Angst, Late Night Conversations, Cell Block Conversations, Implied/Referenced Human Sacrifice, Betrayal, Treachery, High Priest of Melkor!Sauron, Voyeurism, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, References to Sauron's Past, Including But Not Limited To The Following, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nothing Happens to Galadriel, But The Tags Are There For A Reason, Acts of Kindness, Hate to Love, Love/Hate, Denial of Feelings, Possibly Unrequited Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future, Númenor, Akallabêth, The Downfall of Numenor, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Summary:
Galadriel knew the tales. The Breaking of the First Silence. The music, the song, as it was often called, that brought forth all creation with it. In some way she thought she understood what he was saying. She had never given him time to explain it before, nor ever truly listened the first time when he told her. If she was honest with herself, Galadriel had not thought it possible before. For all that he had done, for all that he had wrought, she did not believe it was possible. The idea of it had never aligned with her own beliefs or her own nature, which stood in stark contrast to his darker proclivities.
Her feelings were slowly beginning to change on the matter.
“This is not the way,” Galadriel said, speaking in the softest tones she could muster. “What you are doing to Númenor, this is not the way.”
Halbrand looked at her, then. He truly looked at her in that moment, and Galadriel did not see Halbrand’s face, but the one below it. Not in truth, not in reality—but she could see it as plain as sunlight across the fair sea when the glint of it blinds one’s eye and makes one turn away. It startled Galadriel, and she pulled further away from him.
Written for an anonymous tumblr prompt: Sauron/Galadriel set during Ar-Pharazôn rule of Númenor. High Priest of Melkor!Sauron. POW!Galadriel given to him as a sacrifice, but Sauron has other plans.
Keep Reading
#saurondriel#haladriel#sauron x galadriel#galadriel x sauron#halbrand x galadriel#galadriel x halbrand#my fic
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Are you struggling with tone tags? Well here is a list of all of them!! (in alphabetical order)
/! - excited
/a - alterous
/aff - affectionate
/ao - an order
/av - a vent
/ay - at you
/bm or /bdm - body memories
/br - bragging
/c - copypasta
/calm - calm
/cb - clickbait
/cel - celebratory
/cnh - character not headmate
/co or /cf - comforting
/com - complaining
/curi - curious
/e - example
/ex - exaggeration
/exo - exo memories
/exp - explanation
/f - fake
/fam - familial
/fl - flirting
/fx - flex
/g or /gen - genuine
/gent or /gentle - gentle
/gq or genq - genuine queston
/gs or gens - genuine suggestion
/hj - half joking
/hnc - headmate not character
/hs - half sarcastic
/hsp or /sp - headspace
/ht - half teasing
/hyp - hyperbole
/ij - inside joke
/info - information
/irre - irrelevant
/iw - inner world
/j - joke
/jk - just kidding
/jw - just wondering
/lh - light hearted
/li or /lit- literally
/l or ly or lyr - lyrics
/lu - little upset
/m - metaphor
/nabr - not a brag
/nafx - not a flex
/nao - not an order
/naq - not a question
/nav - not a vent
/nay - not at you
/nbh - nobody here
/nbr - not being rude
/ndir - not directed at anyone
/neg or nc - negative connotation
/neu or /nc - neutral connotation
/nf - not forced
/nfl - not flirting
/nj - not joking
/nlit - not literal
/nm - not mad
/nmay - not mad at you
/nmet - not metaphorical
/npa - not passive aggressive
/nor or /npre - no pressure
/ns or /nsarc - not sarcastic
/nsb - not subtweeting
/nsrs - not serious
/nsx or nx - not sexual
/nu - not upset
/ny - not yelling
/m - mad
/met - metaphorical
/ot - off topic
/p - platonic
/pa - passive agressive
/para - paraphrasing
/pf - playful
/pfl - platonic flirting
/ph or /phys - physical
/pos or /pc - positive connotation
/psd or /psdo - pseudo memories
/q - quote
/qp - queerplatonic
/r - romantic
/rh or rt - rhetorical question
/s or /sarc - sarcastic
/sbh - somebody here
/sbtw - subtweeting
/spds - stop please don't stop(stop/nsrs)
/srs - serious
/sys - system
/st - self tease
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Hybrid & The Harvest Witch (Klaroline): Chapter 2 - Princess Grace & Nik
2. Princess Grace & Nik
----------
Disclaimer - (Cause fanfiction is tricky ground and I hope not to offend the creator of the original story and get sued)
I do not own "The Vampire Diaries", it belongs to its original creator Kevin Williamson, Julie Plec, and L. J. Smith. Nor do I own "Originals", which belongs to its rightful creator Julie Plec, Michael Narducci, Leslie Morgenstein, Gina Girolamo. This is only a fanfiction, it is a piece of nonprofit work - that I was inspired to write by the original work. Please support the official release of "The Vampire Diaries" and "Originals". All of the characters come from the original works, a lot of the lines/text/scenes come from it as well. Most of the media - such as the art and illustrations, gifs, video's, etc. used in this fanfiction - are from the web. To fit the story, images can/are also edited (usually by me) using various apps and websites. So these images aren't mine; just edited a lot of the time.
Also if you own a picture or Video that I found online, and you either want your name added, or me to take it down. Please contact me and we can talk it out. P.s. I also ask that you do not copy my work and/or publish it onto any other website.
Warnings: Spoilers for Originals Season 1 Episode 1, Spoilers for The Vampire Diaries Season 4 Episode 20, Cami Bashing, Cursing, Suicidal thoughts, Suggestive content, alcohol , I'm not sure if I lined the events up correctly - I just went with the order that felt the smoothest, Blood, Violence, Gore (-? I'm not sure if this would reach the gore tag - but better safe than sorry)
----------
Today's Special
"A person has to keep something to herself or your life is just a layout in a magazine."
~Grace Kelly
----------
Two & A Half Years Later
Caroline thrummed her fingers on the counter as she waited for her drink. Her eyes glanced towards the coffee shop's entrance as she heard the bell on the door jingle.
She let out a curse underneath her breath as she saw Marcel enter, the vampire's eyes instantly went towards her.
"Really?" Marcel asks, using the disappointed tone he knew she just hated. It made her feel like a child, but worse than that, it made her feel like she had let him down.
Caroline shook her head, refusing to feel as if she was in the wrong this time, "Relax." She said casually, "I just wanted an iced coffee. It's like an oven outside."
"Yeah, well you should have told your guards to get you one then." Marcel reminded her.
Caroline rolled her eyes, "I can get my own drinks. Plus, they are supposed to protect me, not act like my servants."
"It's not that and you know it." Marcel said firmly. "You know the schedule is there to keep you safe. I don't mind you going to school-"
"Online." Caroline corrected.
Marcel sighed, "Online school and going in to write your tests, but other than that you need to stay inside. Where it's safe. You know the witches will do anything to get to you and Davina."
"Me and Davina can take them, and you know it. You don't need to keep us locked in the tower anymore Mother Gothel." Caroline joked, but the vampire easily heard the underlying tone of bitterness in her voice.
"I don't want you to feel trapped. I'm just trying to protect you to the best of my abilities." The vampire tried to reason.
"I know." Caroline sighed.
"Just a little bit longer now." Marcel told her gently. "Once the reaping phase passes, and they lose all their power, you and Davina can go wherever you want without fear."
Caroline looks down at her feet, "It's been years."
Marcel nodded, "And we're almost at the finish line. So go write your test, and then head straight home. Ok."
"Fine." Caroline sighed.
She then glanced at him, curious she asked, "What are you doing here anyway?"
"I-I was- you see-" Marcel glanced to the side and Caroline followed his gaze and felt her lips turn downward.
"Really?" the witch asked, disgusted. "You know you can do so much better than her, right?" she asked, glaring at the other blond.
"Playing the protective daughter?" Marcel teased.
Caroline rolls her eyes. "Well when you act like a love sick puppy, someone has to. Just because she looks like her, doesn't mean you need to love her."
"It's not that." Marcel protested.
"Isn't it?" Caroline asks. "You may be able to fool your mind, but you won't be able to fool your heart." She says, poking his chest.
"Is this your new strategy?" Marcel asks with a raised eyebrow.
The blond shrugs, "Say something old and screw with your head until you finally realize she's a fraud. Yeah." She answers, as if it's obvious. "Therapists are supposed to help you, not judge you."
"Princess Grace of Monaco." The barista called, unsure.
"Oh, that's me." Caroline said, getting up to grab her drink. When the women behind the counter continued to stare at her, the witch offered a bright smile, "My parents were huge fans."
The barista let out a unsure chuckle and handed her the drink.
"Now head to class." Marcel ordered.
"Was already planning on it." Caroline answered, walking towards the exit. "I can not miss this test."
Before she could open the door, someone else pulled it open from the outside. Caroline paused, unable to stop herself from checking the guy out.
He was tall and dressed in dark genes and a light grey henley. He had curly dirty blond hair with piercing blue eyes.
His eyes traveled down her body, but stopped once it reached the cup in her hands, "Princess Grace?" He asked, chukling.
Caroline glared at him, "So what?"
"Well, see you around your majesty." The man smiled, holding the door open for her.
Caroline huffed and walked out with an extra sway in her hips, knowingly, still feeling his stare on her back until she rounded the corner.
----------
Later that night Caroline got dressed in a loose, flowy black, sleeveless shirt, with spaghetti straps. She paired it with simple blue jeans, wanting to fit into the background tonight.
"You're sneaking out again?" Davina asked from her bed, where she was working on a sketch.
"Well if Marcel didn't want me leaving, then he should have guards who aren't so easily fooled by an illusion spell." Caroline said, defending herself.
Davina put the pencil down and turned her body to face the older witch, who was currently in the process of arranging pillows under her blanket and then covering them with an illusion spell. "What if someone attacks you?"
Caroline rolled her eyes, "Please, if someone attacks me, and can actually take me down, then those chumps wouldn't be any good."
"The witches-"
"Have no power, at least compared to us. And soon, they won't have any power at all." Caroline said confidently.
"Oh, and what about the Originals? Marcel's worried." Davina reminded her.
"Please, weren't you the one who said we could take them." Caroline reminded her. "What happened to all that confidence?" She teased.
"It turned into concern. I'm worried about you." Davina answered.
Caroline's expression softened and she walked over to her, "I know. But I'll be fine." She said, trying to reassure the other witch. "We only live once. We aren't vampires. We won't be the same age forever. So we gotta live in the moment."
Davina sighed, Caroline was always the one who hated having to stay in the attic more than anything. "Stay safe."
"You could come with me." Caroline told her, walking over to the window, her black heels in hand.
"What? And who's going to cover your ass if Marcel comes to check in on us?" Davina teased playfully. "Plus, school dances aren't really my thing, I doubt full blown club ones would be any better."
Caroline nodded, "I'll be back by 2:30." She promised.
"You better be. If you aren't back by 2:31, I'm calling Marcel, and we're going to start a witch hunt for you." Davina threatened, smiling as Caroline climbed out the window.
----------
Caroline stood in line, her heels tapping impatiently on the ground.
The bouncer looked at her, finding it hard to believe she was 21. "Name and age?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well I'm not sure about the second, but I'm pretty sure it was Princess Grace, wasn't it?" An accented voice answered for her.
Caroline turned her head to see the man from this morning smirking at her.
Her eyes narrowed, "And so what if I am?"
"Well I think it's a shame. She clearly wasn't even half as beautiful as you." The man answered without missing a beat.
Carolines face flushed, "You can't just go around saying things like that! I don't even know your name!"
"Nik." He answered. "You can call me Nik."
"Still-"
"What if I buy you a drink? Hm? Would that help?" Without waiting for a response, he turned to the bouncer, his pupils dilating, "You're going to let me, and the princess in."
The man repeated the words back without emotions, and Caroline's spine straightened up. "You're a vampire."
Nik extended his hand towards her, "Come on love. Give me a chance. I dare you."
Caroline looked at his outstretched hand. She knew it wasn't possible, seeing that she's a witch, but she still found herself compelled to give him a chance.
"Fine." She answered, placing her hand in his and letting him lead her inside.
Caroline found a booth in a corner, and she took the seat facing the entrance, making sure she could see the doorway clearly.
Nik joined her, two shots in hand.
The witch raised an eyebrow, "Trying to get me drunk already?"
"You know my name, and yet I'm still calling you princess. I need to level the playing field somehow." He smirked.
Caroline filt the corner of her lips turning upwards as she took the drink, "That would be a lot fair if I didn't know how high your alcohol metabolism actually was. I'd say the deck is more than in your favor."
Nik gave her a boyish smile, but there was nothing innocent about the monster lurking in his eyes, that had long since picked up on the magic dancing along her skin.
He hadn't confirmed it before, but now he knew for sure that she definitely had magic flowing through her blood and set into her bones.
She's a witch.
He knew for sure now that wearing the necklace he had designed to mask his wolf was a wise decision. It would be a waste to scare her off before he even got to know her.
Caroline took the shot, not once breaking eye contact, waiting for him to down his own. The original didn't disappoint, downing the shot in one go, he leaned on the table with his elbows, "Now, any chance I can get your name?" He asked, eyes daring her.
"You may earn it before the night's up," The witch answered, pushing back, "If you play your cards right."
Nik smirked, he knew she'd be interesting, and she hadn't let him down.
Caroline felt her vision grow fussy, and felt the familiar tug whenever someone used magic as an image of Jane-Anne Deveraux appeared in her mind.
She shook the dizziness away and could feel Nik's stare on her. She felt his blue eyes stare into her own, as a frown appeared on his face.
Caroline gave him a shaky smile, "Witchy migraine."
He raised an eyebrow, "I thought witches weren't allowed to use magic here?"
"They aren't." Caroline agreed. "But the magic builds up inside of us, and causes us headaches."
It technically wasn't a lie.
As a result of the harvest, she and Davina now had Monique, Cassie, and Abiligals magic trapped inside of them.
Nik nodded, knowing what she was saying was true. He knew if Kol was here, he'd probably have a fit in seeing what Marcel was doing to the New Orleans witches. Whether Marcel knew it or not, he was slowly killing them.
"Can you get me a Sex in the Driveway?" Caroline asked.
The man smirked as his blue eyes sparked, "Why, is that a way of suggesting something."
The witch smirked, "And here I thought you were classier than that." She propped herself on her elbows and leaned forward, "Trust me, when I want something. I'm very clear about it." She said, her tone taking on a suggestive hint.
Seeing his breath caught in his lungs, she let out a laugh and leaned back into her chair. "The alcohol will help my headache." She answered, but what she really wanted was for him to get caught at the bar so she could slip out without him noticing.
She doubted he'd be the type to let her go without asking any questions, considering how much fun they've been having.
And the last thing she wanted was to snap his neck and end the night on a bad note.
Nik sighed, "That was mean love. Are you sure you want a Sex in the Driveway?"
Caroline raised an eyebrow, "And here I thought you'd be all for getting me drunk? My tongue is a lot looser with alcohol in my bloodstream you know."
Nik's eyes darkened, "Oh believe me love. I know much better ways to get answers. I wonder about all the things I can discover when your muscles are loose, and you're screaming my name. I think I'm a lot more likely to get yours then."
Now it was Caroline's turn to be left breathless, as the man pinned her with his look. His eyes making promises that the witch was more than tempted to accept.
"Will you be here when I come back?" The vampire asked.
Caroline let out a sigh as she quickly regained her confidence, "Why don't you get up and see? The only way you'll know for sure is when you come back. You'll either see me here, or not." Before Nik left the table, she added, "and no peeking."
Nik smirked at her, "You play a dangerous game."
"But isn't that what makes it so much fun?" Caroline teased, her grin turning sharper.
The witch watched him walk away, almost not wanting to get up. Her will was once again strengthened when she unlocked her phone and saw a message from Davina.
Davina: You saw her?
Caroline: Janne-Anne?
Caroline: Yeah
Caroline: Don't call Marcel yet
Davina: Why?
Caroline: I wanna be there when he kills her. I wanna be there to see her pay. Give me a 20 min start, I'll call him when I'm half way home so he doesn't know I was out tonight
Davina: Allright
Davina: Hurry up
Davina: If he doesn't catch her in the act, he'll know we waited and that you left
----------
Caroline was halfway home when she found a quiet street and decided to call Marcel. The man picked up on the first ring.
"Janne-Anne." The witch said, having to stop walking so the vampire couldn't pick up on her footsteps.
"She used magic?" Marcel asked, surprised.
Caroline nodded, "She did. It was an identification spell, but a spell nonetheless."
"I'll handle it." The man told her. "Stay home-"
"No!" Caroline instantly protested. "That woman sentenced me and my friends to slaughter. I have the right to be there."
She heard him sigh on the other end, "Fine. Be ready, I'll come pick you up."
----------
Meanwhile Klaus returned to the table, expecting to see the blond witch still sitting there, only to find an empty seat.
His eyes flashed amber as his wolf rose to the surface. Her scent of honey, cituris, and ginger was already embedded into his memory; and now, the wolf wanted to track her down. The wolf saw it as a challenge and wanted to chase after her.
And the man in Klaus couldn't help but agree.
But before he could carry the thought out, he got a message from Marcel, telling him to meet him.
He sighed and threw a longing look at the empty seat. Taking one last deep breath of her scent, he willed himself to walk out.
He didn't even know her name, but that didn't make him want her any less.
----------
Caroline climbed up the fire escape and knocked on the window. Davina looked up and rushed to it, unlocking it.
"Thanks." The blond said, as she climbed in and began walking to her closet, she slipped off her black heels and pulled out a pair of socks from her dresser instead.
"So you're really going?" Davina asks.
"Of course I am. Aren't you?" Caroline asks, pulling on a cardigan and slipping into her black converse shoes. She whirled around to face her cousin, "That woman led her own daughter to the slaughter. She watched as we begged and begged for help. Doing nothing. I wanna watch her pay. Isn't that the only reason we stayed in New Orleans?"
Davina nodded, as she remembered the cold look that Janne-Anne had in her eyes despite watching her daughter get her throat slit.
"I'm going to." She nodded, pulling a jacket out of her own closet.
Caroline smiled, as they heard a knock on the door.
The blond's eyes widened as she remembered that she still would smell like the party, smoke, and alcohol. Moreover, she'd have Nik's scent on her. As light as it may be, a vampire as old as Marcel would be able to pick up on it. She picked up a perfume from the vanity and sprayed herself with it, from head to toe.
Davina gave her a moment, before walking to the door to open it.
Marcel raised an eyebrow at Davina, "You're coming to?"
The brunette nodded, "Caroline's right. I need to see this with my own two eyes. I wanna watch like she watched and did nothing well five girls - one of them being her own daughter, were led to their slaughter."
Marcel sighed, but he could easily understand where both girls were coming from. "Allright. Remember, to put a glamor on, and blend into the crowd. I don't want to risk it, especially when you're going to be that close to her. The last thing we need is her spotting you."
"It'll be fine." Caroline reassured him. "We know what we're doing."
Marcel nodded them, patting them on the shouldier, he led them out. "Whatever happens, stay closer, and look out for each other. Ok?"
----------
"Ekáti, plýne mas méchri na mi fainómaste." Caroline whispered underneath her breath, letting her magic cover both her and Davina.
The spell was a simple glamor, but with it in place, the people around them would only see two black haired sisters, with plain brown eyes. Letting them easily blend into the ground and be forgotten.
"Come on." Caroline nodded at Davina, grabbing her hand and pulling her through the crowd until they got a perfect view of the show that was about to take place.
One of Marcel's vampires dragged the witch in front of Marcel.
Not even three years ago, Caroline looked up to the witch, and if something like this had happened to them, she could see herself doing everything in her power to help the women.
But now, after everything she had done, the women, and her coven had lost any and all loyalty Caroline may have held for them.
"Jane-Anne Deveraux." Marcel announced, before turning to the ground, "Give it up for Jane-Anne. Come on." He said, as if he was an announcer on a late night T.V. show.
"Jane-Anne Deveraux, you have been accused of the practice of witchcraft beyond the bounds of the rules set forth and enforced by me." He said, finally turning to the witch, a dark look beginning to appear in his eyes, "How do you plead?"
But as quickly as it had come, the look vanished. "Oh. Was that convincing? I studied law back in the fifties. It's all I know. Seriously, J, tick tock. You know the drill. How do you plead?" He repeated, forcing Janne-Anne to answer.
"I didn't do anything." The witch answers stubbornly.
But Marcel instantly called her out on her b.s, "That's a lie. You know it, I know it, and you hate that I know it. It drives you witches crazy that I'm aware of your every move. That you can't do magic in this town without getting caught. So, why don't we just cut to the chase, huh?" He asked. "You tell me what magic you're brewing. Tell me. I'll grant you leniency. Hey, I am, after all, a merciful man."
Davina clenched Caroline's hand, and the older witches' eyes narrowed. No way. They had been waiting so long for this moment.
Waiting for her to slip up.
Waiting to see one of the women who was directly responsible for their life being destroyed, punished.
Caroline squeezed Davina's hand back. The reminder that she was there was the only reason the blond didn't shout out in protest.
"Rot in hell, monster." Janne-Anne growled.
"I'll tell you what. I'll give you one more chance." He said, turning around, but before the witches eyes could soften, he turned around and slashed her neck, "Or not." He said, watching the woman collapse to the ground, her head barely attached to her shoulders.
Caroline flinched as a sudden image of Monique, and how the girl had fallen to the ground in a similar matter flashed before her eyes.
"Poetic justice." Caroline chukled, "I doubt she would want this. After all, Killer or not, the woman was her mother."
Davina turned to her, "It doesn't matter. We wanted this."
Caroline gave her cousin a small smile, it's true at first she desperately held onto the belief that they were doing this for their fallen friends.
But were they really?
No.
No they weren't.
This was for themselves.
It's true it's sad what happened to those girls, but they had died and left this plane behind.
But they had died, well Davina and Caroline struggled to survive.
Dying wasn't easy.
But the guilt, anger, and pain that came with living?
Death was easier in comparison.
Caroline turned her attention back to Marcel, she could see him talking to someone, but couldn't make the man out.
She shook her head, dismissing it as vampire business, something she liked to stay out of. That last thing she needed was another thing tying her to this city, after the magic all faded.
"You coming?" Davina asked, wanting to go back home.
"No. You go ahead. I wanna make sure we retrieve Janne-Anne's body." Caroline told her.
"Why?" The brunette asked.
"So the witches can't bury it ofcourse." Caroline answered, as Davina's eyes widened in understanding.
----------
Caroline entered the party, but left it behind as soon as she stepped in and made a B-line for the bathroom instead, unable to stomach the way vampires were blatantly feeding on humans.
Her breath began to come out quicker as she felt her chest begin to cave into itself. Her hands quickly fumbled against the faucet handles as she struggled to turn it on. The second cold water began rushing out, she splashed it against her face.
The cold water ran down her face, and snapped her out of the panic attack that was beginning to hit her.
Caroline sighed as she leaned against the cold material of the sink, letting her forehead rest against it, she began to wonder where it had all gone wrong.
She wanted to make the witches pay, but why did it feel like she was the one paying the price?
She may be alive, but she couldn't truly live her life, with the threat of the witches and their harvest reaping constantly hanging over her head.
Would it have been better if she had died that night?
Is it already too late?
The blond shook her head, trying to shake all those thoughts away.
No! She couldn't!
She couldn't leave Davina alone with this burden.
She needs to hold out.
Just a little bit longer...
----------
Loud music was booming through the area, as the party moved to cover the whole courtyard. Marcel and his vampires were dancing as they were high on both blood and drinks.
Klaus entered the courtyard, as Elijah observed from a balcony
"Hey, man, where'd you run off to?" Marcel asked, greeting his sire. He didn't notice it before, but now that he was closer to the man he could pick up scents that still lingered on him. One stood out to him, almost like it was citrus, and a hint of sweet note, but he couldn't pick it out exactly. The man had clearly been to a bar, and the strong scents of alcohol were covering the scent. Marcel just couldn't put his finger on what exactly he was smelling.
"You mean your minions aren't still documenting my every move?" Klaus asked, his tone was light, but Marcel, having been raised by him, could pick up the undertones of anger.
"Someone put you in a mood." Marcel commented, not realizing that a part of that mood resulted from Klaus being seperated from Marcel's ward - or more specifically the said ward running out on the thousand year old vampire. "What can I do?"
"What you can do is you can tell me what this thing is you have with the witches." Klaus said, stepping closer.
"We're back to that." Marcel sighed, hoping they were past that. But he knew better, Klaus would never let something like that go.
"Yeah, we're back to that." Klaus glared at him.
"You know I owe you everything I got," Marcel admitted honestly, "but I'm afraid I have to draw the line on this one. This is my business. I control the witches in my town. Let's just leave it at that."
"Your town?" Klaus asked, stepping away, almost as if he had been burned.
"Damn straight." Marcel nodded confidently.
"That's funny," Klaus chukled, "because when I left 100 years ago, you were just a pathetic little scrapper still trembling from the lashes of the whips of those who would keep you down, and now look at you – master of your domain, prince of the city." He said, lashing out bitterly.
The music stopped, as the people in the ground began to watch them, but Klaus paid them no mind. "I'd like to know how."
"Why?" Marcel asked, tilting his head as he saw a vampire and Thierry come up around Klaus. "Jealous?" The man questioned. But he then saw something dark appear in Klaus expresion and had to stop himself from flinching. He knew now was not the time to fight, and needed to cool the situation down before tensions rose even higher.
He wasn't ready to take on the originals.
Not yet.
"Hey, man, I get it." Marcel said, trying to cool the situation down, but still not willing to give up his footing. "Three hundred years ago, you helped build a backwater penal colony into something. You started it, but then you left." The man reminded his sire. "Actually, you ran from it. I saw it through. Look around. Vampires rule this city now. we don't have to live in the shadows like locals know their place they look the other way. I got rid of the werewolves. I even found a way to shut down the witches. The blood never stops flowing and the party never ends. You wanna pass on through? You wanna stay a while? Great. What's mine is yours, but it is mine." Marcel said fiercely. "My home, my family, my rules."
"And if someone breaks those rules?" Klaus asked, his voice adopting a sharp edge.
"They die. Mercy is for the weak." Marcel answered without backing down, and Klaus had to bury down the feeling of pride that rose in his chest. He was the one who-
"You taught me that, too. And I'm not the prince of the Quarter, friend. I'm the king! Show me some respect." Marcel growled out. There was only so much he could give, before his power and reputation collapsed. Something he couldn't let his people say, or everything he spent the last two centuries building would turn to ruin.
Klaus paused for a moment, before flashing towards one of the vampires that had tried to inch towards him, and bite him at the neck, his fangs mersously tearing through the younger vampire's neck. The decades the vampire had on him were nothing compared to Klaus' centuries, but those years were the only thing that prevented his bone from being crushed under the hybrid's ruthless attack. Any younger, and Klaus fangs would have torn through the bone like paper, ripping the man's head straight off his shoulders.
Klaus discards the man, dropping him like a rag doll, he turns to Marcel. Marcel flinches as he sees the blood dropping down Klaus' lips, and feels as if he's watching his kingdom bleed as the ground gives out from underneath him. He knows if he doesn't act quick, he'll be giving up everything.
"Your friend will be dead by the weekend," Klaus informs him. "which means I've broken one of your rules. And yet I cannot be killed." Klaus says, taunting the man he once called son. "I am immortal. Who has the power now, friend?"
Marcel could do nothing but stay silent, as he realized he was no longer looking at the man who raised him, but the Original who had seen the rise and fall of several empires.
The monsters that all creatures of the night feared.
Klaus Mikaelson.
----------
Caroline looked at the pulsing wound on the man's neck, and the black spider web like veins that spread from it.
She let her fingers graze over the wounds, only for the man to let out a scream.
She winced as Marcel spoke from behind her, "Can you help him."
"If I push magic against the venom flowing through his blood, I can push it back towards the entrance. It's not a cure. I won't be able to remove it completely, it's already mixed with his blood. Nomatter how much of the venom I remove, it's already mixed with his blood. All I can do is slow it down."
"It's something." Marcel argued.
Caroline shook her head, "All that will do it prolong his suffering."
Marcel cursed underneath his breath, and Caroline threw one last look at the vampire, before standing to face the vampire. "Did you get Janne-Anne's body?" She asked.
"Yes." Marcel answered.
"Good." Caroline sighed, relieved, before letting out a yawn as the night's events caught up to her.
She wanted to go back and see if Nik would still be at the party, wanting to continue their conversation, but knew with Marcel here, the chances of that happening were next to none.
And she was right, because when the vampire saw her tired expression, he gently urged her to the door, "Come on. You've had an eventful night. You need to sleep. I'll take care of this."
Caroline nodded, "Sorry I couldn't help." She said, as Marcel got a call.
He answered his phone and listened to someone on the other end speak for a moment before getting angry, his frustrations of the night catching up to him.
"You find him, and then you call me." Marcel growled.
"Who was that?" Caroline asked.
"The vampires I had followed Klaus." He answered, sighing.
Caroline raised an eyebrow, "Where was seen last?"
"He went back to a party, the one he was at before." Marcel huffed, hating how Klaus put him in this position and was just going back about his night. "The one near your campus. Probably left a woman hanging and is going back to get laid."
Caroline let out a quiet sigh of relief. Maybe not trying to go back is for the best. She came close to meeting Klaus Mikaelson in person twice now. She managed to avoid him at the Club, and barely missed him at the courtyard party.
Marcel saw how Caroline looked worried and shook his head, "Don't worry. I know how to deal with Klaus." He said, trying to reassure her.
Elijah suddenly appeared into the room, surprising her. The original barley even glanced at the plain black haired, brown eyed girl that he saw. The witches glamor couldn't disease her heartbeat from vampire ears, especially ones as old as Elijah, but the man just assumed she was there as a meal for the injured vampire, and dismissed her, turning his attention to Marcel.
"Is that so? Please elaborate." He asked Marcel.
Marcel instantly recognised the man from his childhood. The man truly hadn't changed a bit, more like he couldn't. But still dressed in the finest clothes, he easily recognised him, "Elijah Mikaelson." He greeted, his body tensing.
This caused the entourage of vampire's around them to rise as well, ready to protect their master at the smallest signal. But Marcel dismissed them, "No. I got it. It's all good." The last thing he needed was a fight breaking out near Caroline, against an original no less.
Elijah pulled out the chair across from Marcel and took a seat, "It's time we had a little chat."
Caroline had to force her magic down, as it began to rise up in defense.
"Well if you're gonna talk, talk." Marcel said impatiently. "I got things to do."
"Oh my, you have grown quite confident over the last century, haven't you?" Elijah asked, reminding the man that even now, he was still only the scared little boy his brother had taken in, to him.
"Me?" Marcel asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'd say it's you and your brother who got cocky, coming to my town like you own the place."
"Well, we did own the place once. We were all quite happy here as I recall. But we could never control those pesky witches of the French Quarter. How do you do it?" Elijah asked, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.
"Your brother asked me the same question. I gave him the same answer: It's my business." He repeated, really getting sick of having to repeat the same thing to the brothers over and over again. "Everything in the Quarter is my business. Klaus comes into town all nice and friendly, then he starts looking down his nose at what I've down like it's some cheap knock-off of one of his dumb paintings, then he gets pissed of like a little bitch and bites one of my guys."
"Well, I do apologize for Klaus' poor behavior. I assume you know that that bite will kill your friend within a matter of days. Of course, Niklaus' blood would cure him." Elijah revealed the life saving information casually.
Caroline's eyes widened. It did make sense.
A snake can't kill itself with its own venom.
Klaus was the Original Hybrid. The first vampire that was a werewolf. No, he was a werewolf first, who became a vampire. So it's only natural his vampire side would blend with his werewolf, nuteriasing the poison that was toxic even to his siblings.
"What?" Marel asked, the mask of casualiness he was wearing, falling right off his face.
"Yes, apparently the blood of the hybrid will cure a werewolf bite. Quite a handy little thing when one needs leverage in negotiation." Elijah smirked, knowing he had Marcel's interest as well as the upper hand.
"What kind of negotiations are we talking about?" Marcel asked, knowing the price would be anything but cheap.
"Return the body of the witch Jane-Anne. Allow her people to put her to rest." Elijah revealed.
Marcel swallowed the curse that was about to escape his lips, down. He could hear Caroline's heart pick up speed. Elijah was still ignoring her, thankfully.
"What do you care about the witches?" Marcel asked, looking at Elijah so his gaze wouldn't wander to check on Caroline. The last thing he needed tonight was for Elijah to take an interest in her.
"Well, that's my business, now, isn't it?" Elijah taunted, repeating the words that Marcel had told him just a few moments ago.
Marcel glanced at Caroline from the corner of his eye. The glamor spell prevented him from seeing her, but he could clearly imagine her wide eyed expression underneath. How those brown eyes would be a dark shade of angry blue. How she would have shook her head and screamed that he was being crazy at him, if Elijah wasn't here.
Which only made what he was about to do, harder.
"Fine." He relented. "But I want the cure now. If my man dies, I swear I will kill Sophie as well, and then you can forget about ever getting what you want out of the Deveraux's."
Elijah took a threatening step towards Marcel at the information, but Marcel was done. He had enough of the Originals for one night. "LEAVE!" He roared. "Thierry will take you to the body." He said, glaring at the man in the suit.
Elijah returned the look head on, before sighing, and nodding to the vampire in the hat to show him where the witch was kept.
The second Elijah left, Caroline turned her furious look at Marcel. "How could you!" The witch shouted.
"I'm sorry Care." Marcel shook his head, "I had to."
"Had to! Do you have any idea what will happen now?" Caroline demanded.
"She'll be buried." Marcel said softly.
Caroline nodded sharpy, "And she'll find peace. She doesn't deserve peace! Not after what she's done!" She shouted, tears filling her eyes.
It wasn't fair!
Why would Janne-Anne get to be in peace?
After she killed her own daughter!
Destroyed Caroline and Davina's life!
"She doesn't deserve peace." Caroline said, her voice coming out hoarse as a result of the lump that was growing in her throat.
Marcel flinched as he saw tears well up in the young woman's eyes. "It's no fair Marcel. It's not fair."
"I know." Marcel said, trying to sooth her. "But it will all be over soon."
"When?" Caroline demanded. "Either we die, or we lose our magic and everything we've ever known." The blond confessed. As much as she was looking forward to putting this nightmare behind her. She knew that it wouldn't come without a price. The witches would lose all their magic, but Caroline and Davina would too. They would be giving up everything they had ever known.
"I-"
But Caroline shook her head, she didn't want to hear his excuses, or worse, see his pity. She turned around and ran out the door.
----------
Davina was practicing lighting a candle on fire, well Caroline finished up an essay, when Marcel walked into the attic.
The blond glanced at him, her anger at him for giving away Janne-Anne's body still not completely gone.
"I assume it's all quite out there?" Marcel asked.
'The witches know better than to use magic." Davina answered. "They know we can sense it when they do.
Caroline sighed, "Still doesn't stop them from testing out powers here and there. Can't they just learn." She sighed. "Better to be alive, then cast a silly spell. It's not like we cut off their connection to magic. They can still feel it."
"Well they are going to lose their powers. And it'll all be on them." Davina smirked, and Caroline couldn't help but smile back.
"What about the old ones?" Davina asks, turning to Marcel. "They're dangerous, and I don't want them to hurt you."
"The originals?" Marcel asked.
Caroline nodded, going to stand beside her cousin.
"Girls, as powerful as you both are, they don't stand a chance." He told them confidently.
"Really?" Caroline asked, not sounding too sure. "Do we really need to fight them head on. Can't you just dagger them, like you said they used to do to each other?" She asked, remembering the stories Marcel used to tell them.
"Won't work on Klaus." Marcel shakes his head.
Caroline nods, "I guess it's time to make a to-do list." She says, causing the other two to let out a groan. "It may be handy to actually get close to an original and see what makes them tick."
Marcel nods, "I think I may know just the thing. Give me half a day."
----------
Just as Marcel promised, when he came to visit the girls later that night, he brought a coffin with him.
"No way! You actually managed to get one of them!" Caroline gasped, jumping off the bed and running over to open the coffin.
Marcel smirked, "Did you ever doubt me."
"Kind of." Caroline teased.
Davina opened it and the girls looked inside intently, taking in the graying body of the man in the suit.
"This must be Elijah." Caroline notes.
Marcel nodded, "He is." When he saw Davina's hand inch towards the dagger he quickly stopped her. "No, don't remove the dagger."
Caroline nodded, turning to the brunette she said, "We should start putting some wards up."
"Don't you already have some?" Marcel asks. "Ones you review every week."
Davina nodded, "Yeah, well these won't be to keep things out, but to keep them in." She smiled.
Caroline touched the original, and felt a spark as she felt the magic running through him. And for the first time, she truly began to question if they could pull this off.
She shook her head, turning to Marcel and Davina, she knew that failure wasn't an option.
They needed to protect their home.
----------
An amazing Guest commentator on FanficNet brought up the idea of killing Hayley off, an excellent suggestion I definitely will be considering. So, should Hayley die in childbirth?
Like I of course didn't plan to have her around forever, but just killing her off in childbirth. It is a great idea, and I can see the benefits of both. Keep her around to bash her some more, or kill her off and be done with her entitled attitude and have the baby grow up to call Caroline 'Mama'. Or better yet, keep Hayley around - but she can't get her head out of her ass fast enough - and Caroline still becomes 'Mama'. (Personally, I'm leaning towards option 3). Because my original plan was for Hayley to die in season 5 for this fic, (but I basically ignore her for most of it, because Klaroline is the main priority here.)
As for Cami, let's be honest, would you use a cheap knock off purse (Cami), when you can have the real thing (Caroline). Yeah, I didn't think so. So why would I make Klaus? (I am sorry if that came out a little too sassy. I saw something similar in a movie once, and honestly thought it could be a funny way to reveal that yep - there will DEFINITELY be Cami bashing.)
And I gotta admit, I wasn't a huge fan of how Elijah went around using Klaus' blood for leverage (when I think they were still not getting along at this point because he was trying to shove a baby down Klaus throat) so he could free Hayley. Like it's not your blood - you can't go around offering it like cash. It's like spending money that isn't yours - without asking the person who actually earned the money. In general, I liked Elijah a lot more in TVD, where he was actually cunning, and wasn't just high on baby fever.
Anyways,
KLAROLINE FOR LIFE BECAUSE I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP!
#The Hybrid & The Harvest Witch#davina claire#Davina#Elijah#Elijah Mikaelson#Marcel#Marcel Gerard#klaus#Klaus Mikaelson#Mikaelson#Originals#Vampires#Hybrids#Blood#caroline#Witch Caroline#Witch Caroline Forbes#Klaroline#Klaus Mikaelson x Caroline Forbes#klaroline fanfiction#klaroline for life#KLAROLINE FOR LIFE BECAUSE I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP!#Klaus x Caroline#Caroline x Klaus#Fanfiction#romance fanfiction#Originals Fanfiction#Witch#anti-cami#cami bashing
11 notes
·
View notes
Note
• previous ask anon here! I saw the positive response on my last ask so might as well say some more (imagine getting happy from being praised on your own praise, can't be me/j)
• you may feel like Dear Stanley doesn't get many reads but I assure you, if the fic was a youtube video I would put it on loop (they are so silly and the metaphors and the way he cared so much about those little details?? same fr)
• Tomato getting more content. oh no. my heart. you better prepare to pay for the damages that will be inflicted on my soul.
• I decided to tour your ao3 works and read Bad Luck! …I checked all the tags, no worries. (Love, Falling and All Things did came up first but it's in a series so I put it for later)
• 27k. That one hour of reading was quite something. It's so wrong but it's so good?? keyboard smashes I won't dive into details here, but the words hold so much feelings. They are so,,,a (Fanfic writers my beloved good job you two)
Question: how are their lives after that. are they happy like really truly happy. it's an au but i need to know if my blorbos are ok.
• I'm probably going to read the soulmate bodyswap series next, and I'm really excited since 1. omg tooth-rotting fluffy gay men, I need this and 2. planetariums, aquariums and animal facts are my absolute favourites stop hitting my soft spots (once again thank goodness for fanfic writers amen)
• sorry if this is too long and possibly confusing! I'm not the best at writing anything out...maybe retreating to ao3 comment sections now that I know anonymous/no account commenting exists (because of you, I finally found out about it after all these years, thanks). Have a nice 365 days!
Anon please my gosh I just opened tumblr and I saw I had a message and just to hear my reaction for your comment meant a lot means a lot to me ofahioasi we are rn in a very silly loop and just please know I told my close buds about you writing these asks and just it means so much to me, and to see you wrote such a long comment (I checked, wow, 307 words, dude I appreciate you sm if you would ever want to reveal yourself be my guest IOHFSOIFSAO I just, I truly appreciate you)
Now lemme just respond to each point under the cut but PLEASE THIS IS NOT CONFUSING NOR TOO LONG THIS IS JUST SO PRECIOUS
Dude I am so glad you liked the metaphors!! I really wanted to make him project onto different things and just, Narrator feels like a man who would care so much about details that others wouldn't
If I ever get back to writing haha, but the prequel is gonna be a cute slowburn of how they got together (no angst tho haha noooo sir don't look how I mostly write angst hahahaah h a ) ; while sequel is their trip to the mountains which would have similar tone to the original!! But gosh thank you you really make me want to write it hehe
Bad Luck is one of my collabs with a user who left TSP community so now I am left as the only creator listen but they were the ones who came up with the idea for that and Good Luck Charm, which is the fic this one kinda comes from !! We were a bit scared if people would think we agree with Stanley's actions (esp since I was the one who wrote them fihfsoiafsih) but I am glad you like it!
And well - we actually discussed it and haha no they are not good they are far from good in that au, what we intended to do was (SPOILER: DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW IF I EVER WRITE IT) that Stanley would confess to Narrator that he drugged him and Narrator would be very mad but since he got bitten and it was found out that he was omega, he would lose his job since the world is omegaphobic and Stanley would only later learn just of how much he fucked up. But since the damage is done and Leo would not want him to have easy way out, they kinda stay together and Stanley develops and anxiety disorder. They kinda make it all work and let themselves explore the feelings but Leo never forgives and good for him, good for that man
Gosh to hear you want to keep on reading my work???? That just means so much to me??? I wrote this one with Surf and the amount of silliness that series has just still makes me giddy with how I pulled some of my fav moments in my TSP fanfics so I hope you will not only have a nice read but if you do write, you will share your opinion if you will want to!!
You reminded me I have to check ao3 iohfashiosafois I haven't really been logging in so I prob been slacking off with responses but please, wherever you choose to write, it will always mean so much to me. You already spending time writing the first thing meant for me a ton, esp since this semester has been hard and I've been in art block overall but please anon, know that your words truly make me feel not only good but just grateful to you. Know that your words mean more than you can imagine and they can affect people in a good way.
Thank you <3
Have lovely 365 days! (or 365/2 days, if you are a Kingdom Hearts fan)
#ask#307 anon#anon ask#tsp#my writing#Anon pleasae know that this means so much to me#I kneel before you#I owe you me life / silly#i have a few tbh tsp live written fanfics i still have to upload#maybe i will work on that#but please just#my gosh#please know#that this means#to a small creator#a whole world#<3 thank you#The stanley parable#dear stanley#bad luck#tomato
1 note
·
View note
Text
ABOUT ME !
hello! you can call me khoi!
i’m just a simple person who likes to write, that’s all. i also like drawing! this blog was made after i accidentally deleted my previous one so that i can better my writing and let others enjoy it too… and maybe give into tumblr and silly interactions
╰ if you ever want to chat without sending an ask, my discord is @/minatohse ! i prefer discord because i’m almost always online on there.
my pronouns are he!
╰ i use every term except fem terms
for some basic info on me, i’m nonbinary, gay (nwlnw) and aroace :3 i’m a minor (16), don’t send me explicit nsfw asks (esp if u arent close to me), dirty jokes are okay
i’m canadian and my timezone is EST (or GMT-5, GMT-4 during daylight savings). my ethnicity is viet-cn and my main language is ENG, however i speak vietnamese too… i can’t type/read in viet, nor can i write/read or speak in chinese. i’m just too silly /j
please feel free to tag me in things!
╰ mutuals or not, you can tag me ^^ i may not necessarily respond but i don’t mind :3
BYI !
— i'm socially anxious and bad at interactions, however on the internet it's a bit more comforting? regardless, if i don't talk with you first and you wanna chat, don't be scared to chat with me! i will often never go first because of this. my social battery is also kind of low, so please don’t take it hard if i ghost you ^^
— i type in all lowercases most/sometimes, and for what purpose? absolutely none, i just think it looks neat :3
— I MIGHT COME OFF AS INTIMIDATING, RUDE, ETC. however, please know i don’t mean to be. i struggle with tone (both vocal and over typing) and this is just how i type
— i’m actually kind of a slow person sometimes, be patient.
charisma house, Genshin Impact, HSR, twst, pjsk, idv, ensemble stars, sky; cotl, love nikki, vrchat, roblox, ponytown, etc.
╰ VOCALOID/UTAU/SYNTHV, drawing, editing (i use VS!)
favs; wriothesley. neuvillette, octavinelle (JADE ALLERGENIC floyd chewtoy), blade (hsr), sampo, gepard, ALKAID, AkiKuro (zeno), rikai kusanagi, fumiya ito
╰ i luv rinne amagi so muc guys he’s like my bf totally
( due to be edited at anytime )
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
R&J (+ WSS, Oh God) Clown Takes Round ♾ + Part 8
Featuring a shiny new clown take of the Balcony Scene as a comedy skit and a truly terrible article on WSS that sounds like it was written by a high schooler who read a book on literary criticism, like, once. Spoilers of course
Infamous Balcony Scene
Two teens having crushes on each other and saying nice things to each other? Inherently triggering!!!! Something something heteronormative whiteness something something outdated gender roles. #GetWoke
Also…infamous. Infamous. Samuel Pepys, is that you?
Three interesting notes about this clown take.
1- Technically, yes, there is no mention of a balcony in the text, just “Juliet’s window.” But also, no one cares. Seriously, no one. It’s 200+-year-old fanon that has existed before you and I were even a twinkle in our great-grandparents’ eye. Shakespeare himself would probably give up and include it as elevated canon in his ShakespeareMore website. I won’t censure you if you call it anything else, but c’mon. C’mon.
2- Playwrights in the Elizabethan Era did not use Act or Scene markers/divisions in their scripts nor in performance, and neither did Shakespeare. That only began in the Jacobean era ~1600s when indoor theaters rose to prominence and candles were employed. As they needed time to re-light the candles after an hour, a curtain call was instituted. Shakespeare’s later plays in the Jacobean era thus had act and scene divisions. I wouldn’t put it past the Victorian editors to censor Shakespeare in this way out of prudishness, but it’s clownish to imply that Shakespeare meant for Mercutio’s scene and the Balcony scene to be one scene. He quite literally wrote plays as one whole scene. As for the choice in labeling the balcony scene Scene 2, it makes logical sense—after Mercutio and Benvolio both leave, the scene radically changes tone and subject.
3- Tag yourself, I’m “dominatrix date night dinner theater.” Seriously, what’s with this fanon of Juliet being aggressive???? She’s not! First Greer, then this one! Yes, she leads the balcony scene—as is typical, since she’s the one to decide to continue the flirtation and its development or stop it in its tracks. That is actually the traditional role of gender in romance—the woman is the gatekeeper, guarding her virtue and makes all the decisions while the man is usually the supplicant/suitor/wooer. On the other hand, Juliet is also in a very vulnerable position and clearly understands herself as such—hence her long monologue and anxiety as to Romeo’s intentions. This vacillation doesn’t even read as comic—it’s more about the *insert snapping fingers meme* tension, if you know what I mean.
“nO sUch tHING as A timEless classic!!1!”
THE WHITE ETHNIC CHARACTERS ARE ALSO GANG MEMBERS. That is literally the premise!!! Hell, the Jets are more characterized as a gang than the Sharks. Not only that, but the story has a basis in real life—literally ripped from the headlines. Puerto Rican gangs were definitely a thing!
As for hypersexual spitfires, that’s Anita. That is literally just Anita. And as she is a direct analogue of the bawdy Nurse from R&J, it’s straightforward adaptational mapping. Nothing to do with Latino stereotypes.
As for the Latinos who think WSS is racist…I’m willing to bet cold, hard cash only white (millennial) liberals think WSS is racist, period. Except, of course, for the ~Latinxers and Chicanos whose whole personality/shtick is that kind of shallow identity politics masquerading as actual criticism. It’s a hustle, after all. No judgment, but still.
This writer has never even heard the phrase “West Side Story was based on William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet” and it shows. Or that it even had the classical double-suicide (sort of) as its ending. The musical makes it painstakingly clear that Tony and Maria’s romance isn’t doomed because miscegenation bad—it’s doomed because of gang violence is bad (“Now I have hate!”). This reads like a high schooler who thinks tragic ending in play=they had it comin’.
Tfw your critique of homophobia is homophobic, ngl.
Considering that the original musical almost had the two sides be Catholic and Jewish gangs, the Shark side being the Puerto Rican means jack shit. Robbins et al. just rotated through various ethnic groups before finally settling on PRs and white ethnics in New York. They were certainly not salivating for a chance to have hot (non) Puerto Ricans on stage. Nor are Tony and Maria analogues to queer desire—at least, you’ll have to really twist canon a lot to come to that conclusion. But go ahead and fall into the trope of the predatory gay gaze, OP.
Also, it must be said that for their musical adaptation (really inspiration) of R&J, the gay and bi creators of WSS consistently shied away from the eroticism of Shakespeare’s original play, both at the musical and the dramatic level. They were much more concerned with the politics of inner-city fighting and critiquing American societal racism than the forbidden love story, which Sondheim bluntly stated they didn’t care for and marginalized almost to irrelevancy. WSS just doesn’t say anything about the nature of desire of any kind except the most basic—young love is powerful, love can trump ethnic division, etc.
You have never even heard of Shakespeare, classical music, ballet, or the words “You’re fine” from a doctor, OP. And it shows.
#west side story#cristina metas#romeo and juliet#rj meta#r&j meta#this is what happens when you let the identity politics people write about art#a whole lot of nonsense and prejudice#rj clown takes#wss clown takes#that article was seriously skin-crawling#ew ew ew
6 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
prosebrne
generations cup grief
sinoptics
sin
htjhytjytjy
Untitled
1the-black-roses8
Al lado del camino.
xuxudio
crying over pixels again