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Illusory Master Thief Aria

She hides in the shadows, a keeper of peace in the lands of Summer. Her name is hushed whispers on the lips of the people, a warning to corrupt nobles. She heads a legion of thieves known as the ‘Mirage of Ereve’. To gain membership into this elusive legion, if  you can trace their hideout, requires two things. One: A vow to never kill a person. Two: You must last three minutes in a duel with Aria.

Surviving a week in the harsh conditions of the Ariant desert is a lot easier than a spar with Aria.

The Nocantor flower

Cataloguing the local flora in the kingdom was one of Freud’s favourite past times. The specimen in interest, this cool autumn evening, was the Nocantor flower, the night singer. 

No one knows where the name originated from, or why was it called the ‘singer’. However, Freud suspected that the discover of this elusive flower might have been the venerable scholar, Kyna, hailing from the kingdom of Winter. 

Kyna, was a scholar unlike any other, despite her hearing impairment. She travelled far and wide, to the four kingdoms and beyond. She wasn’t just a scholar, she was an adventurer.  Perhaps she might have witnessed a patch of these flowers whilst travelling in the dark. Alone with her thoughts, she probably recalled how the people of Summer used to gather around bonfires to sing songs of celebration. Songs she never had the opportunity to hear and enjoy.

And yet right in front of her, with hundreds of gently pulsing lights, glowing and dimming at their own pace; she might have imagined the flowers ‘singing’. A patch of flowers glowing together in a choir, or one lone flower shining brightly while others glow softly around it, as if it was singing an aria with an accompaniment. 

Freud took a few minutes to admire the flowers, and tried to experience what Kyna felt when she stumbled across the Nocantor centuries ago.

Seasonal Kings: The King who wanted to be left alone.

I inherited not a crown; nor the right to rule. I inherited my predecessor’s sins, my people’s rage and the kingdom’s misery. So tell me, dear Sultan; tell me once again… How I’ve been pampered and naive to the world’s ways.

My Name Is Trouble || Serial Killer AU

London was a smudge of slate gray against the map in winter.  The reflection of Charlotte Eklund’s face against the window of the train from Oxford dulled the color of her long gold hair and brown eyes.  Another passenger bumped her from behind and offered an apology but her mind was far from the freight car approaching the city.  Charlotte’s mind was still in Oxford, stuck in an interchange some hours earlier.  The same hue of brown eyes had watched her from the upstairs window, though their age produced a hardened backdrop contrasting Charlotte’s warm, liquid brown eyes.  They locked each other’s gazes in the exchange, the daughter standing on the sidewalk in front of the family home with her duffle bag over her shoulder and the dutiful husband, father, professor, adjusting his tie and watching her from the window of the master bedroom.  He made no move to stop her, granted she had left for days dozens of times in the past months.  But that morning a sense of permanence in her departure hung in the air. William Eklund stood watch as his child peered back at him as if she were waiting for some sort of inevitable explosion until she simply gave up on her departure being seen as any sort of misfortune, turned on her heel, and made the several blocks to the train station.

Charlotte wasn’t sure what she was doing. At best her plan was spur of the moment, but that didn’t make her decision any less permanent.  If anyone asked Charlotte, which they never did, she’d tell the truth: their family had never been a unit so nothing had really changed. The fact that she was walking into one of Europe’s largest cities empty handed and alone didn’t scare her as much as it should have when she was, in truth, still only a child. In her mind what she had walked away from was worst possible way she could have spent her life.

It was only when the train had began to slow down its steady speed when it grew closer to the travel hub in the city of London that Charlotte realized she ought to have thought of a plan. She stared at the back of the seat in front of her thinking, pausing only to glare at any adult who might look her way. They all gave her the same look. It wasn’t personal; she was a teenager travelling without a parent. Charlotte pulled at a bit of dead skin on her lip, sucking her teeth when the train jolted to a stop and made her tear it roughly.  She ran her tongue over the spot and felt the sharp sting and felt the tinny taste of her own blood. She lifted her duffle bag to her body, shoving past anyone she had to so she could get off the train.  As soon as the doors to the train car were opened a slicing wind stung at her skin, turning her cheeks and the tip of her nose pink in nearly an instant.

There were few people Charlotte knew in the city, but meeting with one of them was her safest bet for a solution. Luca was the easiest. He was an Italian student who she met slumming in Oxford visiting her father’s office. He was an artist, sensitive, thought she was beautiful, and with the rebellious allure of an older boy her parents wouldn’t approve of subsequently ended up being the one to take her virginity before she became too much work. They were bonded, connected in a way that couldn’t be broken, or some shit like that.

“You know, Charlie, I would help you, but you aren’t the type of person who makes that easy,” Luca tried to explain. He leaned against the doorframe to his apartment. To any bystander he would have looked languid and casual, but really he leaned so heavily to keep the girl from slipping in past him. 

“You can’t even let me in to—“ she began.

“This isn’t my problem,” Luca said, looking away from her to try to distance himself from the charity case on his doorstep. “You try to play grown ups. Nobody has the patience or time to take care of you, and nobody really wants to.” Charlotte kept her eyes locked on his face, setting her jaw and backed down the steps. It wasn’t like she was emotionally slighted. She would have been using him anyway. She glared until the door was shut behind him and turned to walk on down the block.

The rest of her day was spent in a humiliating manner of trying to panhandle for money in whatever way she knew how. She had the most luck sitting on a corner singing, probably looking more like a broke college student than some homeless girl. Without much to account for by the time the streets were mainly empty she huddled close to some sort of exhaust fan in an alley that kept her a little warmer than she might have been otherwise. By morning her money and bag were gone.

Her rumbling stomach reminded Charlotte how hungry she was. She pushed herself up from the floor feeling stiff but she made her way into the streets.  A few blocks down she found a small food store with sleepy workers opening.  She slipped food into the pocket of her coat before sneaking into the bathroom. Charlotte locked a stall, opened the packages of food and ate them as quickly as she could before stuffing the wrappers into the trash bin.  She caught her reflection and stared at herself for a moment on the way out.  Her brown eyes seemed flat under a smudge of grey black and the rest of her skin looked greyish and dirty from the cold.  She hurried out the store, setting off and running down the block before the food she stole could be missed.

Her path away from the grocery store was only altered when a hand grabbed her roughly by the arm, yanking her into an alleyway and punning her against the wall.  Charlotte looked wide-eyed and bewildered at a man twice her size who kept her stuck there. She struggled a bit which was received by the man with a hard slam against the brick wall again that knocked the wind out of Charlotte without leaving an inch for her to hope to break free and run again. “ Thanks to your friend I’ve got a dealer breathing down my neck,” the man nearly growled at her.

“I have no money,” Charlotte began explaining quickly.

“Did I fucking ask, cunt?” he boomed, please with her response to his intimidation.  “I get my fucking payment, one way or another. Do you want to guess what another might entail?” He grinned as Charlotte shook her head no quickly giving her small frame a once over. “You’ve got three options,” he directed, grabbing her chin roughly enough to bruise her. “You send Luca my way with my money, you bring me the money, or we work out a nontraditional payment plan—I’ve got plenty of ideas.”  He jerked his hand away releasing her, his face close to hers as he smirked and reminded her, “Two days.”

Charlotte struggled to form a plan when she could only think how fucked she was.  She stumbled through the city trying to think but covered in snow and ice and near zero with wind chill it was impossible to focus on anything but how cold she was. She highly doubted Luca was good for the money, and London again seemed like the best option she had. It wasn’t until she was in line to buy a ticket and move on that she remembered she had didn’t have access to her parent’s money any longer.  She got out of line and sat in the waiting area curled up in a chair nearest the heater trying to be invisible. The only thing that caught her attention was hearing her name over the television on the wall near her announcing her as a missing person.

“Excuse me, miss?” a female worker said, waving to get her attention.  Charlotte’s stomach sank. She’d been found and she’d be sent home. Her face was plastered across the station along with her name for her new debt collector too. She looked at the woman sure she was going to be told she’d be driven to the police department and returned home. “We’re closing, you need to leave.”

Charlotte released the breath she’d held. Apparently she was as unnoticeable as she had hoped to be.  She stood up without arguing, hovering outside the building while the woman locked up and the gate to the parking garage closed. She glanced through the gate of the parking garage at the busses and cars. If it got too cold they’d freeze becoming useless. It struck her at that moment that the parking garage, though still cold, was heated and locked up for the night and seemed like a safe enough place to sleep.  She glanced down the street before grabbing hold of the metal gate and climbing to the top.  She rolled over the few feet at the top of open space before falling to the concrete floor of the garage.  She inhaled sharply and looked at the palms of her hands scraped and bloody before looking around the parking garage. 

In the far corner she spotted an elevator.  She pressed the button hoping it was still running..  It was noticeably warmer, though still chilly in the lift. She didn’t know if security was still in the building and figured t might be smart to lock the elevator on the garage floor so she didn’t wake up with an angry guard hovering over her.  On second thought, he could find her just as easily using the stairs.  Charlotte waited until the elevator doors had shut with only four or five inches of open space before locking the doors in place with the emergency key to let fresh air in.  She curled up in the back corner where she could watch the open space before falling asleep.  She wasn’t sure how long she had been out for, but when she woke up her lips had frozen together.  She forced them apart though it was a bit painful and ran her tongue between them, stinging the raw crease of her lips. She lifted her face, sleep streaked with dirt and pale from the cold, when she thought she’d heard a noise from inside the parking garage. She crawled on her knees closer to the open space between the doors looking from one side of the parking structure to the other to try and find the source of the noise. 

aishasauce said: last rose of summer?? youtube OqpIf5SSLsw

Evan yawns and curls up against the plush cushions. It has been a long day for the prince; studying hard and practising magic. He marks the page he was on with a leaf bookmark, tucks it under his arm and decides that a nap would be good right about now. Perhaps he could continue studying later; Freud would probably still be awake late at night in his study and he could ask to clarify some questions. 

He feels the cushion dip with the weight of another person. Evan was about to scramble to his feet before noticing a hand trying to sweep away his messy bangs from his face. He recognises the hand. Evan also recognises the voice that had begun to croon a soft melody. 

The prince struggled to keep awake, eager to listen to Freud’s gentle voice. Freud was no songbird, but the deep richness of his voice reminded Evan of his father. 

He feels his chest start to ache. Oh how he misses his parents so… He misses his mother’s cooking, his father’s lectures… He even misses his annoying brother. 

Now he is alone. 

Evan let out a soft sob, before reminding himself that he was not going to cry any more. 

“It’s okay, little one.” Freud wraps his arms around the young boy. “It’s okay to cry.”

Evan curls up tighter and tucks his face against the crook of his elbow. Though the young prince looks like he’s asleep, the hiccoughing sounds and the hand that clenched tightly onto Freud’s robes betrayed him.

So, I would like some help...

…with some fanfic names. I want to go ahead and get a good grasp on what I’d like the name for my fanfic to be. It was the same fanfiction I was talking about last night:

Sam and Dean Winchester are serial killers who carve their initials into their victims. However, they like to say they kill for the greater good; their victims are considered “bad” people, such as abusive parents.
Castiel is in a mafia type thing where everyone in it has angel code names. They deal with murder, kidnapping, drugs, and other crimes. Castiel unwillingly saves Dean Winchester while out on a mission. He becomes unusual allies with the Winchesters, and eventually friends. Castiel later rebells from his “family” to help the Winchesters.

I would like some help with fanfic names. I’m thinking along the lines of…
Abused
Battered
Dark
Shadows
Scars
Hidden
Secrets
and words of the sort. Also, maybe combining some words would be cool, like
Abused Secrets
Hidden Scars
Battered Shadows
Hidden Darkness
etc.
Please please please send me some suggestions, I will love you forever.

Please?

freezeflare  asked:

I keep seeing a lot about your Seasonal Kings AU, but I don't know what it's about. Would you mind telling me?

Seasonal Kings is a Maplestory AU, mostly centred around the 6 heroes.  Here’s a google document with more information! (It’s currently a work in progress, this document was created quite a long time ago and I want to change certain parts of it such as the key events and the Cycle.)

Thank you for expressing interest in this little AU! ^^