Many, many thanks to @saessenach for the jurassic beta service and additions, ily.
Once upon a time, there was a Prince who loved the night.
It was his kingdom and his home and he loved to fly
between the stars with his Mother, the Queen, and his younger sister, circling
up and up in the sky on his little wings until the first rays of sunlight came
and dawn shone bright with the sound of their laughter.
His Mother was soft and wild, as was his sister, and the
Prince felt like his heart could burst with all the love he felt for them.
His Kingly Father, though, was another matter.
The Prince could see the thread between his parents, the
one that proved how destiny, how fate deemed them worthy of each other. But
alas, he couldn’t see any happiness, or love, in it.
And yet, he
couldn’t help but dream of when he would find that perfect someone, the one and
only for him.
He loved his life, loved his family and his kingdom and
his life was the happiest life a boy could ask for.
That is, until his Queenly Mother brought him to a
The Prince could remember her shaking wings as she walked
away from him.
Not that the Prince needed training, mind you. It was
just that his talents were more like starlight at his fingertips and not like a
fist between the teeth, and his Mother wanted him to be always able to protect
himself, in any occasion.
But there the Prince met a boy, a boy who was Fire made
Fire kicked the Prince up and down with a grin that
didn’t reach his eyes and that day the Prince came back home with several
pieces of clothing less. He found himself completely at loss in this new,
strange and unfamiliar environment, where his own powers where frowned upon.
But, while reading by his window in the house his Mother
bought outside the camp, the Prince saw Fire walking through rain and mud and
his soaked shirt seemed even bigger, the sleeves covering his hands.
The Prince’s brows knitted together.
It sure wouldn’t be safe to leave Fire under the rain,
what would it be of him?
So the Prince went to the boy’s tent, if one can call it
that, as silently as he could. Fire was asleep, but he awoke the moment the
Prince set foot in the tent.
“What do you want, Princeling?” Fire drawled, ready to
attack despite how tired he looked.
What did the Prince want?
Perhaps, a friend?
“How can you sleep in this?” the Prince asked, gesturing
to the tent around them.
“I lay down and close my eyes, Princeling. It’s not that
But there was no bed, only a strip of fabric on the cold
“I-I dare you to sleep in a bed!” the Prince said with
all the conviction he could muster. Fire raised an eyebrow, a challenge in his
The Prince couldn’t help the shiver of fear that ran down
He was a Prince, the moon was his confidant and the stars
were his friends but this boy-
He was a fighter, used to bruises and loneliness and
split lips and the blood trailing down his chin went only in the way of his
“I dare you to sleep in a bed.” the Prince repeated.
Fire chuckled, “And what do I get if I do?”
“A warm bed and clothes you don’t have to fight for.”
Fire stared at the Prince and the Prince looked at Fire’s
matted hair, his mismatched clothes, the bruises and cuts which no one would
“Where’s the trick?” Fire asked.
“I’m no liar!” the
Prince answered quickly, his temper rising.
Another chuckle, a disbelieving laugh.
“So you say. And if I don’t accept?”, this was a taunt,
the Prince knew it.
They both knew the answer.
“You’ll stay here.”
And the Prince was surprised to find himself thinking
that it would sadden him, should Fire be hard headed enough to remain in his
The boy hummed and then said, “Then by all means, Princeling,
lead the way.”
The Queen was not very pleased at first, but she quickly
grew to love Fire, much to the Prince distate.
Things would be so
easier, the Prince thought, if Fire
wasn’t such an ass.
He still kicked the Prince to the ground while training
and they both behaved in the house to not displease the Prince’s Mother, but
now there was always an outstretched hand for the Prince to take.
After a year, another boy came and tendrils of darkness
swirled in his wake.
Shadow was strong and had an outstanding, peculiar power,
yet silence fell on his marred hands.
After Shadow’s arrival, the three boys formed a strange
unit and soon a brotherhood was born, out of footsteps that didn’t bring mud and
legs shattered as a payment for loneliness.
But no one liked this kinship, least of all the King.
He tried and tried to separate the brothers, in armies
faraway or in a mountain of death and bounded wings.
And it was all in vain.
The brothers knew the one word on everybody’s tongue as
they passed: threat, threat, threat.
But they were family, and they were happy.
Until one day an Evil Queen sought to destroy everything
they all loved.
They fought her, and the Prince was taken.
But as faith would have it, he survived when so many of
his men did not because the army of the Evil Queen didn’t know of his mother’s
gift buried underneath his skin, her heritage, his wings. His Father rescued him but the Evil Queen won and a wall
was built, keeping immortals and the ones who lived with Death’s breath on
their necks divided forever.
And then one day, the current brought the Prince two
smiles frozen in death, hair black as night flowing in the current, and when
the boxes clashed on the shore all the Prince could feel was rage.
For he knew that that bloodshed had fingertips like
flowers blossoming all over it.
He knew who was to blame, he knew, he knew, he knew.
A golden Prince he thought was his friend, a golden
Prince who knew where his Mother and Sister were, a golden Prince he trusted.
So the King and the Prince of Night went to kill the
males that had blood filled with moonlight on their hands, who kept wings as a
reminder of cruelty. To kill the King of Spring, a dear friend to the Evil
Queen, a monstrous partnership.
But the Night’s Prince didn’t want to kill the Prince of
Spring, his one time friend. There was already enough blood after the killings
of the King of Spring and all his other sons and the Prince was ashamed of the
female blood on his Father’s hands.
An he was tired. So, so tired.
But the King of Night wanted revenge, more of it, and
moved to kill the Spring’s last Prince, but found his end instead.
And so the Princes became a Kings, through tears and
blood and loss.
After this events, the newly-made King came back to his
kingdom of starlight and Fire was nowhere to be seen.
In time, the loss and pain became memory and the King
knew there were two new beautiful stars watching over him from the skies above.
But he still had family through blood: the King had a
cousin, Light, and Shadows purred in her presence.
Cruelty wears many shapes, though. It can look like the
nightmares children fear or like a forest in the midst of October and a brash
decision whispered by a green monster can lit the world ablaze.
And with that, Fire, Shadows and Light froze in time.
But life went on and they were joined by a Creature of
Old and it felt like family.
Even then, when the Evil Queen returned, only two words
ringed in the King’s mind:
kill her, kill her,
So he went under a mountain built on madness, making the
Queen and everyone else think he was there for politics, to make pleasant conversations
with the sycophants that surrounded her, but the reality was that he wouldn’t
be satisfied until her blood ran cold. He brought no one of his family with him
and so no one could warn him of the poison in his cup that leashed his powers.
And as the King watched the Evil Queen slaughter half the
men he brought with him, he thought of his City, his lovely Kingdom blessed by
the light of the moon and the dark night, to what lengths he would go to
protect it, to protect the people in it, to protect his family.
So he bound his family to a shield he threw around the
He thought he heard Fire’s roar and Shadows sharp intake
of breath, the sadness in Light’s cries and the quiet rage of the Creature of
In that dreary place, the King of Night learnt pretty
quickly to play is new cold and ruthless role at the Evil Queen’s side, to give
pleasure to a monster who deserved pain, to close his eyes and see stars, to
imagine the wind in his hair and the booming of wings.
And it went on and on, names spat at him along narrow
corridors, cruelty beyond reason adorned with roaring laughter.
Until one day, a blur of an image made it’s way into his
mind; a slender, delicate hand holding a brush with care and love
It was the portrait of Hope.
And the King wanted to give something back to the
painter, to his Hope, so he gave her the night sky and the stars and the moon
and everything he loved and missed.
Those images were what kept him going, as he was forced
to do vicious, horrible acts in the name of the Evil Queen mad with loss. Acts
that even eternity would be enough to make him forget.
Until one day, the images weren’t blurry anymore, but clear
and perfect and as the King got over the shock, he recognized where Hope was.
The kingdom of Spring.
The King of Night felt the bile rising in his throat.
He need to get to her and why was she there with him, why.
So he lied to the Evil Queen, lied through his teeth and
she believed him.
The King went to the kingdom of Spring and saw his Hope,
so young and fragile and mortal and she was the most beautiful thing he ever
Even if the encounter was brief, it filled his heart with
such joy and so he tried to find new excuses to visit her, but-
The way she looked at the King of Spring, it was like
she…like she loved him.
And when he knew the Spring’s King sent her away to the
Mortal Realm, he was happy because
she was safe, she would not witness
the monstrosity of the Evil Queen.
So when he saw her under that damned mountain he thought
his heart would stop and his mind went blank under the claws of pure terror. He
could only see and hear Hope, his eyes wide.
I’m here to claim
the one I love.
And of course, the Queen didn’t make her quest easy.
She made Hope prove herself, again and again and the King
of Night couldn’t keep himself away from her, he felt the need to consol her,
to be there for her, to do everything he could for her.
More so when it was clear the King of Spring would not
move a finger for her; the only one that tried aside for the King of Night was
an Orange Flower, friend of both the King of Spring and Hope, who looked like
no one ever tried to give him water.
And as the last trial approached, the thought, the word, that slithered through the King of
Nights mind was more insistent than ever.
So the King made a bargain with Hope: he healed one of
her wounds and in exchange, she had to pass with him a week of every month. It
was foolish, selfish, but…it meant he would see her again.
And when the last trial arrived the Queen, the Queen was
killing her, his Hope, his love, his-
He wouldn’t stand there and watch, he had to try to save
her, he had to kill the Queen, he had to, he
Hope was his mate,
his mate, his mate.
But he heard the sound of the fragile bones breaking when
the Queen snapped Hope’s neck.
The King pulled on the bond, pulled with everything he
had and convinced the other Kings, prisoners no more, in giving their powers to
Hope, to give her another chance at life.
And they did.
His Hope was now alive and immortal and safe and he was
so incredibly happy.
Even when she ran to the King of Spring.
When they last saw each other, she looked at him and he
loved the way she looked at him, like he wasn’t a monster or a nightmare or a
demon but then-
Then he felt it, that string between them, like a constellation
tying them together, wrapping them in eternity and beyond.
And he was so, so scared; the King vanished in front of
In that moment he decided he would free her from their
bargain, he would give her the freedom to love whom she wanted, to do what she
wanted, to be free.
So he flew away, to his City of Starlight and when he saw
Light for the first time in fifty years his first words to her were,
Anonymous asked me a little while ago for Squad road trip AU. If this one goes over well I might do a ToG one too. As with everything I write; it got long.
Az, Mor, Cassian and Nesta take
one car; Feyre, Rhys, Amren, Lucien and Elain take the other (Nesta wanted to
be with Elain but she and Lucien are like superglued together at the hands and
no-one trusted Lucien and Nesta together in a confined space for several hours.
Someone would have died. And Elain is pretty attached to him so…)
Someone puts Cassian in charge of
navigating. This is a mistake. They get very lost before they’ve gone ten
miles. Feyre very wisely takes over. They have a lot more success when Feyre is
in charge of directing. The Moriel/Nessian Car:
Azriel drives their car. Mor
rides shotgun. Cassian and Nesta sit in the back (Nesta basically on Cassian’s
lap the entire time. Seatbelts are for lesser mortals)
The Moriel/Nessian car is
organised because they have a music playlist. Which is a really good theory; everyone
gets one song each and then they shuffle. In practice it doesn’t exactly work
because Mor skips all the ones she doesn’t like (ie Mor skips all of Cassian’s)
and most of the trip is spent to the tune of Cassian’s dulcet tones while he
whines about the unfairness of it all, Mor snickering, Nesta rolling her eyes
and Az sighing. A lot.
Cassian thinks that it’s distinctly unfair that Mor is allowed to
put her feet up on the dash because whenever he does that he gets
growled at. Mor just swivels round her in seat and waggles her eyebrows
suggestively at him while smirking. Az sighs some more.
Nesta and Cassian frequently have
intense make out sessions in the backseat. Mor and Azriel take bets on how long
they’re going to remain entwined before they surface this time. Az is eerily good
at guessing right. But they’re betting in kisses so Mor doesn’t really mind him winning.
Cassian falls asleep with his
head on Nesta’s shoulder. Nesta and Mor draw on him. (No-one is quite sure how Mor manages this from the front seat
but the girl is nothing if not determined) They take a lot of pictures which
they send forward to the other car. By the time Cassian wakes up at the rest
stop his pen moustache is a social media sensation. He decides to be proud of
it and refuses to wash it off until Nesta forcibly scrubs at it that night in
the motel because he looks ridiculous.
Amren + Feyrhys + Elucien:
Amren drives the other car.
No-one contests this. Despite the fact she drives at like 150mph constantly,
doesn’t appear to take any notice of things like traffic lights, stop signs,
junctions, or road markings and they all feel like they’re taking their lives
in their hands. She blithely reassures them that she hasn’t killed anyone yet.
(This reassures no-one. But still. No-one contests Amren driving. They’re not that stupid)
Nobody rides shotgun in Amren’s
car. Lucien is the only one that would have done but Elain needs him in the
back beside her for hand crushing purposes so Amren is going solo in the front
while the others all hide in the back thinking that, when they inevitably crash,
they might be safer in there. (Rhys does take a turn for a little while when
they stop after Feyre has fallen asleep (how she achieves this while the rest
of them are clutching onto the edges of their seats no-one knows) and he and
Amren chatter a bit. Or rather Rhys chatters, Amren grunts, nods, and tells him
he’s an idiot at appropriate intervals)
Amren controls the music in Amren’s
car. This is just the law. Lucien sings along with everything (Lucien is just
one of those people who has no musical boundaries at all. He knows everything.
He has heard everything. He can bond with anyone over music.) She only changes
it when Elain makes a polite request to have one of her songs on.( She gives
Rhys the kind of look that makes grapes shrivel to raisins before your eyes
when he asks the same thing)
Elain is in charge of all of the
food and keeps Amren well provided with snacks passed through from the back
while they drive. (Amren and Elain have a lovely little dynamic which mostly
revolves around polite/appreciated silences/occasional quiet conversation,
feeding and being out in the garden at the same time – Elain gardens; Amren
Elain also sorted the main group
picnic out. Azriel helped her with the organising and Cassian helped her with
the making of the food.(Elain and Cassian are the go-to work pair in the
kitchen. Az is very good at specifics but leaves the general stuff to the
experts, Mor is hopeless, Nesta got herself banned after setting the place on
fire (for the third time) Lucien is on hand to hand Elain things and provide
supportive kisses (ie get in the way but she never shoos him out) FeyRhys just
let them get on with it, they’re in charge of almost everything else so they’re
Lucien is the designated ‘are we
there yet’ one. (Elain makes him stop when she senses Amren is about to violently
Feyre takes her sketchpad and
doodles everyone/everything that inspires her while they drive. Rhys considers
any moment she isn’t drawing him to
be a wasted moment. Rhys gets stabbed in the arm with her pencil quite a lot.
Elain is the one with the camera.
Elain takes pictures of everyone and everything (mostly Lucien. They’ve only
just gotten together. They’re already sickeningly domestic and adorable) Rhys
considers any picture that he isn’t in as a wasted picture. Feyre stabs him
some more on Elain’s behalf.
Lucien is always last back in the
car. Always. Every single time. No matter what else the others do. No-one quite
knows why and Lucien isn’t telling.
Elain hands out her food and
makes sure nobody takes more than their fair share (Cassian gets swatted on the
hand a lot. I don’t care if you made it, or if you’re starving and feel like you’re about to die, or if it’s the
best thing you’ve ever eaten in your entire life. Share nicely)
FeyRhys always get caught
sneaking off for a quickie (Moriel slip off too but they never get caught)
Rhys brings a little portable games
set and a pack of cards and they play a few things with each other. Mor, Nesta
and Feyre watch (Elucien have wandered off to find food) when Cassian and Azriel
team up against Rhys at poker (Feyre has to do a lot of ego stroking (amongst
other things) that night to stop him being about it for the rest of the trip)
They all play Liar. Elain wipes
the floor with them all to everyone’s shock (except Lucien’s, who knows better)
Rummy results in a mixed bag and is called off after Lucien nearly ends up with
a pen in his eye courtesy of Nesta (to be fair he kind of deserved it) Rhys
gets some of what he lost to Azriel and Cass back when they play group poker Then
loses it all to Feyre. (Really, darling, I thought we were a team) Blackjack is
just a disaster.
They all play Monopoly (except
Amren who’s napping in her room throughout these games; which is the only reason the others risk playing) This results in three
fallings out, several bruises, enough cursing to make a sailor blush, countless
accusations of cheating, a lot of tag-teaming by the various couples, and a shocking
betrayal that does result in a lot of crying and yelling and almost results in a broken finger. They do not play Monopoly
Everyone wisely backs the fuck
out when Amren says she’ll play chess with one of them. Lucien and she have a
few games. The others mysteriously vanish off to a safe distance for an
extended period of time while this goes on. They’re shocked to find him alive
and in one piece when they return.
Alcohol is had a night, drinking
games are played and eventually they end up playing strip poker. This is
something that they all faithfully agree never to speak about ever again. All
pictures of the event are wiped from the face of the earth. They’re all very
pleased their memories are incredibly hazy the next morning (Amren remembers it
all. Amren has blackmail material on all of them to comfortably last her
several lifetimes. Amren wields this mercilessly) Bonus Destination Beach Day:
Azriel is the one who makes them
drink water/eat/put on sun cream/stop trying to drown each other in the sea. Azriel
is the mother hen of the group. (Supported by Elain)
Nesta is the one trying to do the
drowning. (Cassian and Lucien alternatively. Usually Lucien)
Feyre and Rhys break away from the
main group just before lunchtime and have sex under one of the old piers where
they think they’re very out of the way and inconspicuous. They return to a
collection of catcalls and raucous applause courtesy of Cassian and piercing
wolf whistling courtesy of Lucien when they wander back to their umbrellas.
They are fooling no-one. Ever.
Elain and Lucien spend most of their
time on the beach of all of them as Elain isn’t a very confident swimmer and
prefers watching most of the time and Lucien likes keeping her company (and
making sure she puts on plenty of sun cream. Which is a real chore for him to
help with, obviously)
At some point though Cassian and
Rhys do take it upon themselves to pick Lucien up between them and fling him
into the sea. Just because.
Elain takes some seriously
cracking pictures of the lot of them in the sea. She has a real knack for
getting the timing just right. She makes them all line up and do lots of arty
shots with the sunset in the background later on.
Azriel and Mor spend a lot of
their time surfing together (and making out) in a cove nearby that has awesome
waves. Later in the day Az surrenders his surfboard to be used as a float and
brings Elain out onto the water so she can join in more.
Nesta is a sun goddess and is
more than happy to spend all of her time baking in the sun beside Amren and
working on her tan. Cassian has other ideas. Cassian throws a bucket of water
over Nesta to try and ‘encourage’ her to join in them in the water. Nesta
nearly kills Cassian. He manages to convince her otherwise by kissing her when
she catches him and tackles him onto the sand (no-one ever really susses out
how Nesta, who is by all accounts very delicately built and a foot shorter than
Cassian in heels, manages to tackle her enormous idiot of boyfriend on the
sand. It doesn’t really matter that it defies all the laws of physics. She
Elain spends a lot of time putting more sun
cream on Lucien while huffing that he’s turning into a lobster before her very
eyes and he burns too easily. She makes him sit under the umbrella with her for
extended periods of time and he settles into his favourite position with his
head in her lap. They gossip shamelessly about the others and judge everyone
else on the beach because they’re clearly not as cute a couple as they are.
Mor and Azriel go exploring and stumble across
a number of rock pools and a collection of very pretty, very cool caves. They
show the others and they all wander around them a bit in the afternoon when it
gets too hot to sit stewing on the beach and they’re all tired of the sea (but
the keep the cavern with the waterfall and the lagoon to themselves)
Everyone is incredibly amused when
one of the local guys, who introduces himself as Varian, spends a lot of time
trying to chat up Amren. She plays with him the way a cat plays with a mouse,
or the way a lion might toy with dinner. They start a betting pool on how long
it’s going to be before he susses out he’s got no chance and either gives up or
Amren gets bored and casually murders him. Neither happens and while he doesn’t
get lucky he also doesn’t get eaten alive. Which is an achievement in itself.
Feyre and Rhys offer to wander
into town and get provisions. Which is an excuse to spend a little bit of time
away from their mad family; they love them a lot they really do but it’s also
nice to wander along the sand holding hands and not have to listen to Nesta yelling
at Cassian for nearly tearing her bikini top with his giant manly paws or watch
Az and Mor try and be subtle about the way they’re gazing at each other or
intervene every ten seconds to stop Lucien and Nesta growling at each other and
teetering on the brink of murder.
They all get quite sleepy in the
afternoon and break up into smaller groups. The couples all do coupley things
for a little while. Rhys and Feyre lounge together and he reads to her. Lucien
and Elain put headphones in and end up falling asleep together (Lucien ends up
with some hilarious tan lines from this) Mor and Azriel go back to that cave
where they found the waterfall and spend a good long time there alone together.
Nesta and Cassian wind up back in the sea together and spend a long time
floating among the waves kissing one another.
Amren and Nesta have an excellent
and intense bitching session with one another about everything and anything. It’s
cathartic, traditional and necessary.
Azriel and Elain have a very quiet but very
serious debate about the most recent Masterchef episode (which they both avidly
Mor falls asleep on top of Azriel
in the middle of this conversation and despite the fact he’s sweltering he
doesn’t shift her off, he just runs his fingers absently through her hair while
he talks to Elain and tilts the umbrella a bit so she’s covered.
Rhys and Cassian play bat and
ball a little ways away (but not far enough because Cassian still somehow
manages to hit Nesta on the head with a ball, accidentally, but that doesn’t
stop her snarling at him. Amren drily suggests relieving him of all of his
balls, since he clearly can’t be trusted with any of them) When Mor wakes up
she gets up and joins them and shows them how it’s done.
Feyre and Lucien have a friendly argument over
the latest football match they went to see about the various teams, line-ups
and tactics. (Amren joins in to support Feyre. Lucien and Amren then have a
much less friendly argument that ends when Elain deftly steps between them and
drags Lucien off to get them all ice cream and protect his idiotic ginger self
from Amren’s glower)
Mor and Lucien have a very long
talk about music, their favourite bands, their favourite songs, the best
concerts they’ve ever been to etc. While they’re doing this she insists that
Lucien let her braid his hair. Lucien consents.
Nesta sits with Elain and lets
her chatter away about her garden and Lucien and in turn lets Nesta talk about
Cass and she complains about what a pillock he is. (But Elain isn’t fooled, she
spends most of her time watching him with soft eyes because she thinks no-one’s
Cassian commandeers the camera
and starts taking lots of pictures of everyone. Elain always looks excellent in
every picture no matter the lighting/angle/how much warning she’s given.
Cassian always looks awful but he spends most of his time with the camera
taking pictures of Nesta until Rhys swipes it and starts taking a ridiculous
number of pictures of Feyre instead. Lucien can’t have that, he has to have
lots of pictures of his lady on her camera. Azriel confiscates said camera (and
takes several pictures of Mor, but subtly) then graciously returns it to Elain.
Cassian, Azriel and Rhys somehow
end up in the middle of a wrestling match. Everyone else is far too used to
this to really bother noticing. It ends when Amren sighs, trips them all within
the span of about thirty seconds and the ladies swoop in to retrieve their
idiotic boys and assure them that yes they were watching and yes babe, you were
definitely the best.
The sun goes down and they all
wake up a bit. Lucien digs his guitar out of the car and everyone puts in their
various requests and he does his best to oblige them all.
Azriel actually has a very nice
voice but refuses to sing much, he only consents to give them a couple of bars
because Mor coaxes him into it. Mor’s voice is terrible. She’s aware of this.
She doesn’t give a damn. Lucien isn’t bad; he’s musical enough to carry a tune
even if he doesn’t have the best voice. Nesta is loud and flat; so is Cassian,
they make a good team on their own but when set to music/anyone else it becomes
less so. Rhys is incredibly overly dramatic and can’t settle for just ‘singing’
he must perform. Elain has a very
sweet voice but is so quiet that no-one but Lucien can hear her. Feyre sings
more the more she drinks and the more Rhys encourages; she doesn’t have a bad
voice either. Even Amren sings when
Lucien plays one of her songs; Lucien claims bragging rights on this from now
until the end of time.
At some point Rhys pulls Feyre to
her feet and that starts all of them off dancing. Cassian takes a turn on
guitar at some point so that Lucien has a chance to dance with Elain too. (This
is short lived because Mor informs him he’s making her ears hurt and if he plays
that song one more time she’s going
to beat him to death with that guitar. Lucien swiftly steps in again to take
over and rescue his child (the guitar; not Cassian)) They all take turns
dancing with each other though.
They’re all exhausted that night
and they’re all late getting up and leaving to get home the next morning but
eventually they all pile into the cars (yes, Lucien is last again; Nesta growls
at him, he just smirks at her. Cassian and Elain tug their significant others
away from each other before permanent damage is done. Elain scolds Lucien;
Lucien “apologises” to Nesta. They spend the entire journey home bickering with
each other over text between the two cars. When Elain discovers this Lucien
gets another scolding and she withholds kisses from him (for a full ten minutes
before she caves in))
They all make it home in one
piece and a lot of sprawling idly over furniture and each other is done that
night as they sleep off their hurricane weekend in Azriel and Mor’s living
So I’m wondering, has any of our fandom’s great gifset creators, done a “Rise and Fall of Oswald Cobblepot” by season yet? Or if anyone has chart making as a hobby, I think that would be an interesting one to see.
I was thinking earlier about how far Penguin has fallen but then I realized him being shot and tossed in the bay doesn’t actually seem like that bad in comparison to other “lows” he’s had.
Take S2. You think him holding his dear mother as she dies would be as low as he could get, but then he finds himself in Arkham with his brain being melted out of his ears. And then, he loses his newly found father! It’s like does this kid ever catch a break!? But in the end he’s the one saving the day as Butch blows Galavan to bits.
It just seems like the lower he falls, the higher he rises. I think that depending on how he gets himself out of this, if he has his wits about him, he can turn this around rather quickly. He’s bounced back from worse! And even higher than before. I think it’s one of the things we all love about him. His ability to get up no matter what knocks him down.
Ed hurt him. He let himself be vulnerable and he was earnest and it didn’t matter. He still lost this fight. He is undoubtedly down right now. But he won’t stay there. It’s only a matter of time before The Penguin rises once more.
Where I would kinda personify all the shit I struggle with so I could make vent art with it
So here’s the 3edgy illness monster ocs
Blue is Bacillus / Baz, they’re sad and tired and made of goop so they constantly leave messy trails of slime around everywhere they go, they can’t really speak and prefer to communicate through gargles Pink is Socors / Scoots, they’re perky and reckless and eat everything that gets too close to their gaping maw- which they’re self conscious of, so they cover it with a mask, they also don’t have a heart
Summary: In the aftermath of the party, you sit at war with yourself before an unexpected visiter comes to call.
Authors Note: This, as always, is for my love @imhereforbvcky. What a marvelous human you are, I am so grateful for your support and friendship. If you all haven’t read her writing, she’s incredible, seriously. go check out her Masterlist. Anyway, hope you all enjoy it. Italics represent inner rambling.
Tags are open, just moved to the bottom. If you want to be tagged, just ask :D
For fucks sake… why won’t you work!? You silently curse at the equation sitting in front of you. A simple physics problem that Tony had asked you to address. It was predicted to support a correction to the suit that would allow for less wind resistance from the suit when flying, that is if you were able to prove it correct, however your brain was refusing to concentrate.
You try again, willing the numbers and figures to make sense, but the familiar pit in your stomach remained, distracting you from your solution. You could feel your heart pound in your head, your memory torturing you as the burn of his touch on your jaw flashes through your mind.
T’Challa in front of you… holding your chin… he wanted to kiss me. He was going to kiss me. He’s also engaged. You remind yourself flatly, quieting the excitement of the voice in your head. But he wanted to kiss me. He was going to kiss me… Wasn’t he? Your mind swims with the familiar argument that had been spinning in your head for the past 4 days, ever since that night.
“I find you very… appealing as well…” He had said that! Right? That’s what he said. Wasn’t it? He finds me… But he’s engaged! Your inner monologue roars, trying desperately to restore rational thought. Well at least he’s a Prince with princely duties and what not. He’s probably back in Wakanda by now, with his flawless fiancé and his brilliant mind… and his silken voice… his smooth confidence…