A Mixed Bag

Permanent (i think) hiatus

[shadovvlurking]

[north-of-annwn]

[north-of-annwn]

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[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

“Aye lass. Whenever ye wish te I’ll bring ye back myself.” He nodded, guessing that she was hesitant to go somewhere new after finally getting used to Auradon Prep. Hands moving to his hips in a comfortable manner he waited, a grin slowly spreading over his lips. “What de ye say? It will be about a two-week journey to Camelot from here. Although we can always take a few detours of course if ye wish. No point in not taking an adventure while on a journey now is there?”

It was his talk of adventure that really captured her attention. A small part of her had hoped that Auradon would be the adventure for her, but the more time she spent here the more restricted she felt, though it was still miles better than the isle. “An adventure, huh?” Her smile turned into a big, excited, grin. “I better get packin’! I’ve been dyin’ for an adventure, and I can’t think of anyone I’d rather go on an adventure with. What did ya have in mind, Dunbroch?”

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Tutoring

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

Running to the door before she could be yelled at to get it she paused, gathering herself for a moment before opening it with a soft smile. Waiting politely for him to state his reason for being there before biting her lower lip. The poor guy had no idea what he was in for. “Ah, yes. Right, this way please..”

Leading him through the halls to the family study she motioned to the table where their lessons would take place. “Madam said to have you wait here for them.” Pausing she then added, fidgeting with her hands for a moment. “Can I get you anything while you wait? Tea perhaps?”

Ivan couldn’t help but stare for a moment, her smile, though soft, was so warm and kind. He shook his head a little to knock some sense back into him before following along beside her. The house was large and homely, if a bit... eccentrically decorated.

Ivan was setting up when her words caught him a little off guard. “Madam?” The term seemed so old fashioned and oddly cruel. He didn’t like it. “Oh, uh, tea would be nice, if it’s not a bother, Ms...? I’m so sorry I never did catch your name?” He offered her an awkward smile, as he ran fingers through his hair. “How rude of me, my mother would have my head.”

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

“Would you now. Perhaps if you survive this we could discuss these various circumstances in detail.” He countered, the look on his features turning wicked as a Cheshire grin slipped over his lips. “We’ll I am one of three. It would make sense that a triplet would be a triple threat no?”

As she began moving forward he too started to move. Sidestepping so that she was forced to no longer be close to the window or the door, not believing her little act of giving up at all. “We are talking, although coming to an arrangement might be a bit difficult. Its been ever so long since I took someone’s head to add to Mother’s collection.” Waiting until she was within reach he then moved, grabbing her raised wrists and shoved, forcing her back against a wall. “You’re red hair would look lovely soaked in blood…Lydia.”

Now she had him right where she needed him, close range, body contact, this is where she thrived. “Ah, so you do know who I am?” Lydia allowed herself to be held in place as she positioned her leg between his thighs, slowly running her knee up along his inseam to tease him. Green, half lidded, eyes stared deep into his own. “It’s rather nice to finally get some recognition.”

In seconds Lydia broke the Prince’s hold, using her gifted strength made it easy to do so. She used the leg between his legs to throw off his balance, pressing him face first into the wall, and twisting one arm behind his back while the other was pinned to the wall. The redhead placed her chin on his shoulder, breath tickling his ear. “But if you know so much about me, little prince, then you should be aware that I am fully capable of breaking your pretty little arm in half.” Lydia gave the arm at his back a firm twist to prove her point. “Or your lovely neck. Didn’t your mama teach you to never wrestle with bears?”

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Tutoring

@wearethedescendants​ 

Ivan shifted the bag of books that hung heavily from his shoulder, it was full of Shakespeare, Homer, and various other ‘classical’ literature. He didn’t know much about the people he was hired to tutor, he’d just heard rumors that they were rather relentless. But he was asked for by name, and who was he to turn down a challenge. 

Ivan took a moment to check that he had the right place, before he reached out to ring the doorbell. It didn’t take long for the door to swing open. “Uh, hi? I’m Ivan Winship, I’m here to tutor the uh... Tremaine sisters?”

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌: 

Easily lifting her into his arms he spun her before putting her down. Pulling away but keeping his hands on her upper arms, as if getting a proper look at her after the time he’d been away. Nodding for a moment before grinning. “I’ve got good knew for ye. By the grace of King Ben, ye’ve been given permision to transfer to Camelot High. Alaric never stopped pestering him until it was granted.” Stepping back he then reached into his sporran and pulled out a sealed letter. “And me Mother would like to welcome ye to DunBroch for the summer holidays.”

“Wait, what? Really?“ Lydia took the letter in her hands, a finger grazing over the seal. She felt suddenly overwhelmed, a new school, under new rules, she’d have to start all over again. “Thank ya... and your mum. I’d love to visit DunBroch.“ The redhead paused, mulling it over in her mind, staring down at the papers in her hand. Deep down she knew that Camelot High would be a better fit for her, she’d be near her ancestral home, she could learn so much more about her history, and she’d be free to explore the few powers she had without breaking rules. But still, she was scared. “Would I be able to come back? For a visit I mean?” Lydia had managed to make a few friends here that she would really miss.

[devilsbckbone]

dear anyone who followed this blog under the impression that I was a quality writer I am so sorry 

[wearethedescendants-a]

@look-we-are-trying-ok​ liked for a starter from Galvin! (for Lydia)

“By the fates!” Striding forward he scooped her up into his arms, crushing her in a hug before putting her down with a lopsided grin. “Here I thought ye’d have run off te the woods by now. What’s keeping ye here in Auradon Lassie?” His words were joking but held a layer of concern. Alaric had been working on getting Lydia transferred to Camelot High, but the process took far longer then they’d thought it would. 

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

“Galvin!“ Lydia laughed, wrapping her arms around the broad man’s shoulders, unbothered by the strength of his grasp. “Well, I keep tryin’, but they always find me. I think they still don’t trust me.“ The redhead gladly joked back, giving his arm a playful punch. When she saw his concern her smile toned down some, but was no less genuine. “S’pose I just got nowhere else to go. Besides, good food, warm bed, could be worse.” Lydia shrugged before turning her gaze back to his. “Though I have’ta admit, it’s not the same without you here.” 

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Better Steer Clear

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

Pleased that she’d at least not fought him and was eating the food he’d made, he proceeded to remove her shoe and sock. Noting for later that both had holes in them and her size so that he could make sure something of better condition appeared for her. He’d be damned if his daughter, who should have been raised as a princess, didn’t at least have proper footwear.

Keeping his features neutral, fully aware that her gaze was not focused on him, he took a moment to examine the injury. Noting the purpling before carefully putting her foot down. Rising with a slight groan, his joints protesting as he moved to pull down a small jar, he then returned. Opening it and scooping out a small amount of the ointment, he gently spread it over the swollen area before finally starting to wrap her ankle. Her thanks caught him slightly by surprise, drawing a huff from his lips before he realized he should say something. “There is always a bowl for you at night if you wish for it Lydia.”

His touch felt gentle, which really surprised and confused Lydia. Gentle was a word that no one would ever use to describe the terrifying Mor’Du. It shocked her even more as he made a clear sound of protest as he rose. The redhead was lost in this train of thought as he took care of her ankle, she really began to take him in. He was older now, more tired it seemed. No less imposing but... well now that she thought about it she’d hardly seen or heard him so much as yell in years. She chalked it up to her being good at avoiding him but that felt like an inadequate explanation.

Mor’Du’s words pulled her from her thinking and she froze, not in fear this time, just at a loss for words. “I-” her words caught in her throat. It was a simple offering of food, but she couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it than that. Lydia was still wary and skeptical of him, but she began to feel her walls crumble some. Maybe it was the warmth of the stew and the fire seeping into her bones, or the exhaustion from running for her life, but old emotions began to rise up that she’d long since buried. No one had shown care for her like this since her mom died. 

“I don’t... I don’t understand.“

[wearethedescendants-a]

@look-we-are-trying-ok​ liked for a starter from Valerian! (for Lydia)

“When you say your father’s acting odd what kind do you mean? There are after all several options when that word is used. Violently odd, crazy odd, perfect muchness odd….” He let his words trail off after seeing the look on her lips, leaning forward to take her hand in his, brow furrowing as he waited for her to explain in more depth what was going on. 

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

“Odd like... nice odd.“ She squeezed his hand, taking comfort in his touch. “I got back late the other night and I tripped, made a lot of noise, and... well he didn’t get mad like I expected he just... wrapped my ankle and gave me stew.“ Lydia met Val’s eyes, and laughed awkwardly. “Like I know I should be grateful but... it’s odd.“

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Better Steer Clear

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

Pride flickered in his chest when she refused to show pain or weakness, yet pain as well since he knew it was because she was in his presence. It should have been only the world outside that she did such things for. Around her father, she should feel safe to be weak and need protection, as he once had with his own parents. Perhaps never his father, but his mother yes…..but he’d ruined that shelter that should have been during those first years here upon the Isle. Consumed by the raging emotions he couldn’t control and adjusting to once again being a man, not a bear. 

Sitting across from her in front of the hearth he reached forward, taking the bandages from her before she could protest or prevent the action. Reaching down to gingerly lift her wounded leg up so that her calf rested across his thigh. Turning he then grabbed the bowl of stew he alway poured when he heard her come in but she never came for, handing it to her with another order. “Eat.” With that, he began carefully removing her shoe before beginning to bandage the ankle.

She tried to snatch the bandages back from him, but then slightly flinched backwards when she realized what she’d done. But when all he did was hand her the stew she stared down at it in mild confusion. Nonetheless, she obeyed and began to eat as he wrapped her ankle, feeling awkward and unsure of what else to do. 

Lydia was unused to such kind touches from anyone who wasn’t her mother, and even less so from him. At a loss for words, she settled for watching his face as he worked, eating her stew as he did so. She realized after a moment that there were no signs of anger in his features and so relaxed further into her chair, though still wary. It was then she realized that he had to have had that bowl waiting for her, he hadn’t left the room for it, it was already there and waiting, and it clearly wasn’t his. “Thank you... it’s good.” 

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

“Oh did they? Then I suppose only half will lose their heads. As a reminder as to why failure is not an acceptable outcome.” He mused darkly, eyes gleaming in the shadows of the dimly lit room.

“If you’d prefer me over the guards then your more of a fool then I thought.” The chuckle that fell from his lips was almost sensual as he watched her begin to creep towards the window. Then, with no warning at all, body betraying no sign as to what he was about to do he moved. Throwing one of his smaller axes so that it whistled through the air, barely missing her face. Head tipping to the side he added in a dark tone. “Going somewhere little thief?”

“Oh I would prefer you in many different kinds of circumstances.” She smirked at him though it faltered when the axe whizzed right past her face. He was good, fuck, that meant more work for her.

“I’m impressed, little prince.” She barely spared the axe a glance, in case he tried to do the same move again. “Cute, smart, and quick, talk about a triple threat.” The redhead punctuated the words with each step she took towards him. Her hands held high in ‘surrender’, dagger clear in his view so he knew where it was. “Surely we can talk about this, hm? Come to some sort of arrangement?”

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Better Steer Clear

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

wearethedescendants‌:

He knew she’d come home, although like usual pretended to have not noticed. In all his years upon the Isle, the only ones that stood a chance of sneaking past him where the cats, and that was if they where lucky. It was easy for people to forget that he’d spent a lifetime as a bear and that even though he was mortal once more, he’d retained a few traits from his animal side. Such as heightened hearing. 

It was the sound of her crashing that had him rising from his seat by the fire where he’d been carving. Placing the piece and knife down before moving to the stairwell, arms crossed over his chest as he arched a brow down at her. “You’re supposed to bind weakened joints to prevent them from getting the better of you.” Turning back to the kitchen he added. “Come.”

Lydia sat up with a groan, eyes not meeting his. ”I know that.” She said, eyes glaring at the ground in front of her. “I didn’t have time.” The excuse died on her lips and was sure it fell on deaf ears. It didn’t matter if she had time or not, she shouldn’t have sprained it in the first place, much less paid so little attention that she tripped up on a piece of rubble. 

The redhead gingerly rose to her feet, swung the bag to carry it on her back, and followed behind her father. Her steps were careful, but she refused to limp, not in front of him. Without so much as a grumble she placed her bag on the floor and sunk into one of the chairs by the fire, letting the warmth seep into her bones for a moment. “Sorry to have disturbed you for something so trivial.”  Lydia’s tone was indifferent, though inside she was very wary, as she always was with him. She reached into her bag and pulled out a roll of cloth to address her ankle.

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Better Steer Clear

@wearethedescendants​

Lydia, despite the pain that radiated from her sprained ankle, was light on her feet as she snuck back in to the little shack, eyes flicking this way and that always on the lookout for any sign of her father. Lucky for her, she’d long since memorized which floorboards were squeaky and which hinges might give her away. 

Her bag of goods was held tightly in her arms, all to minimize the amount of noise that came from her. She didn’t want to risk her father’s legendary anger. It wasn’t always bad, but when he snapped... She was still feeling pain from the last time, and she couldn’t risk it happening again. She was doing great at keeping silent, but when a misplaced piece of rubble made it underneath her foot, her weakened ankle rolled, sending her toppling on to the ground with a whimpered:

“Fuck.“

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

Smells like teen drama

[look-we-are-trying-ok]

manix-s‌:

Fionna didn’t care about who’s “fault” it was. All she knew was that their relationship was public all over the school and on social media, and anyone who claimed to not have known any different would be labeled a liar in her mind.

“Whatever,” She sighed in response to Lydia, resting her knee against the edge of the desk she was sitting at. Her blue eyes flicked upwards to see Keaton walk into the classroom with one of his friends, hands in his hoodie pockets and laughing at something Hudson had said to him.

Fionna huffed at the sight, turning her head away and flipping her black hood up over her blonde hair to blend into her dark heart.

Lydia glanced at her friend feeling bad. She didn’t know what to do to help cheer her friend up, or at least get her to talk to her. She was at a loss, which only served to make the redhead feel more uneasy and fidgety. Lydia couldn’t help it, after everything with her father when people were upset she always blamed herself a little, even if she had nothing to do with it, she’d blame herself for not being able to help. Once she saw the traitorous bastard, however, she did feel well enough to flip him the bird.

“Ms. Oleson!“ The teacher said in a warning tone, causing Lydia to shrink just a little bit. 

“Sorry sir.“

[rockinrpmemes]

REBLOG if you rp with people despite not having the same “style” as you.

IE: You format, they really don’t. You use eeny teeny micro icons, they use regular/larger sizes….You don’t use icons at ALL but they do, etc etc….This doesn’t mean you quit writing your way, you still do you, but you don’t discriminate because someone’s threads and blogs don’t “mirror your aes” 

& BE HONEST!!!!!! 

Please don’t reblog if you say you are cool with mixed replies, and really aren’t. This post is meant for >>>networking<<< with fellow rp’ers that DO mix and match.