#|q.|

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     Supply runs are always dangerous, but Moran insists on going alone, equipped with a falchion sword stolen from a museum that he keeps strapped between his shoulder blades. No guns; they are too noisy. No support scouts; they are a liability. Just him, his sword, his instincts. It’s all he needs. All he’s ever needed. Occasionally, he’ll take a bow and quiver of arrows that he makes himself, but today is supposed to be just a short run to a supply warehouse that his boss has had control of since the start of this hellish virus outbreak. 

     Only, when he gets there, it’s not their usual workers keeping guard but swarm of the undead. Fucking. Perfect. Obviously, he can’t leave it like that. He can’t just... walk away and hope that some other fucking faction or even some goddamn kid sees won’t see this as an opportunity to dip in and take what they can. So he has to take matters into his own hands of executing security protocol number six. Total lockdown. And sweet jesus, it is a goddamn chore to do on his own. 

     By the time he returns back to base, the sun has set. Hours. He is hours late. And he’s covered in blood. But Jim knows not to send out a search party for him. Mostly because if he’s hiding, the search party will prove to be exactly what he’s always claimed. A liability. And he’ll end up having to go rescue them. He’s let in through a gate at the side, the young kid manning it gawks at the blood covering him, but Sebastian doesn’t even so much as smile or say something idiotic like you should see the other guy. They’ve all seen the other guys. The dead. The diseased. The decomposing. 

     He’s given a wide berth as he makes his way through the collection of people Jim has collected along the way. When he finds his boss, finally, he stands and waits to be acknowledged. “Armstrong Road is in Protocol Six,” he says and briefly wonders if he should have bathed before checking in. But no. Not when he’s this late. “We’ll need to select a new team of guards to monitor it as soon as possible. The lockdown will only last so long against someone who’s determined enough.”

@moriartease || zombie au ftw

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one minute he was stepping through a portal -- or falling through it would be the more accurate description -- and the next moment he was being tugged through a door and dressed and his hair was being trimmed and styled and he hated how much people were touching him, but he also couldn’t seem to get a grip on his magic to make everything just stop. this wasn’t his world, so he imagined there was something... something in the way that was keeping him from accessing it. 

what bothered him almost as much as the fact that he couldn’t access his power was the fact that nobody seemed to realize he wasn’t who they probably expect him to be. a lord, yes. (or a high lord, in his case, but the human realm had never kept that distinction.) but he’d never been here before. he certainly wasn’t planning on an arranged marriage to some... someone that he didn’t know. didn’t trust. but they called him lord rhysand as if he was exactly whom they’d been expecting. and this was fine. all of it was just. fucking. fine. 

ultimately, rhys was too overwhelmed to do anything but go along with this whole thing. claiming to be from another universe would likely only get him thrown in a dungeon somewhere. these clothes were uncomfortable compared to what he normally wore and his power was scratching against the surface, begging to be released. just get through this. get through this... wedding, and then you can run and leave the poor kid everything. that seemed... like his only option, really. so he stood on an alter, surrounded by people he didn’t recognize but who seemed to recognize him, and he watched as the doors at the end of an aisle opened to reveal his mysterious betrothed.

@ofthclight​ || because why not have an element of chaos and magic with our arranged wedding?

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@seesgood​ || i’m sure this won’t hurt

he’d woken with a start. pulling a stake from under his pillow. perhaps it was unwise to sleep armed with so many children around, but he’d learned to control his trigger impulse once lizzy and josie were born. besides, there was nothing here to attack him on this night. nothing he could fight off, anyway. he knew this dream. he’d had it before. countless times. killing bill forbes hadn’t really been his decision. it hadn’t been something he would have ever consciously done. but somewhere in the back of his mind, he could still feel that desire to destroy, that darkness that had ruled over him before. 

alaric looked at the stake in his hand and let it fall to the floor beside the bed. he sat up, pulling both knees to his chest and then pressed his palms against his eyes. of all the death’s he’d been responsible for, that one still haunted him the most. ric looked over at his phone on the nightstand, considered the time, and then snatched it up. two am wasn’t that late. 

caroline had been hurt in so many ways within the short span of her life and alaric had been responsible for so many of them. still, she somehow didn’t hate him. and tonight he needed to know that she was okay. he tapped her name on his recent calls list and listened as the phone rang.

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@corelliaforged​ || continued from here

“Y’know, just hopping down to the bodega.” The sight of the weapon was enough to keep Han’s temptation to bolt at a minimum. The man kept his hands by his sides, palms up to prove he meant her no harm - that he meant no further trouble than what he’d already caused. The lock hadn’t been easy, but he’d tackled worse. In his best estimations Han thought he would have managed to steal a good ten minutes in the dead of night to track down a pod and blow his way out of this craft… She’d caught him in what had to be less than four. “You let me down, I’ll pick you up something real nice, lady.” 

“you’ve been a thorn in my side since they brought you in,” she grumbled, waving her blaster back toward the hall, gesturing that he should turn and walk back in the direction from which he’d come. “i’ve never met a man, human or otherwise, who talks as much as you do.” but that was the thing about him, whoever he was. he didn’t seem to UNDERSTAND that he’d been defeated. captured. that within a matter of hours, most likely, he would be a dead man. another casualty in this war. “i should kill you on the spot for trying to escape. but people say anticipation is the worst part. so i think i’ll let you sweat it out for what few hours you have left.” mara started following him. “how DID you escape, anyway?”

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finding her had been the most difficult part. alaric had seemed... reluctant to help him, and kol couldn’t even blame him for it. it wasn’t like the youngest mikaelson brother had a stellar reputation or anything. but now... now he was the only mikaelson brother and he didn’t even know if caroline knew. there’s been a letter from niklaus. tell caroline i’m sorry. a message for caroline. something for hope. but hardly a passing thought for himself. 

kol swallowed against the bitterness in his throat. he should have fed before coming here, perhaps, but it was too late to think about that now. klaus was gone. elijah was gone. now it was himself and rebekah. he’d heard that stefan salvatore had died as well shortly after marrying caroline, though kol didn’t know the specifics of how that had happened. she was alone. just as he was, which was why he’d come to find her. 

with a deep breath, he lifted his hand and knocked on her door. maybe she’d see him through the peep hole and decide not to answer. maybe she’d immediately distrust him. but he needed to speak with her. he needed... someone who understood how fucking abandoned he felt. maybe she wouldn’t. maybe she would decide that klaus got what he deserved, a justified, poetic ending. but he didn’t think so. “caroline,” he said quietly, knowing she would still hear him. “caroline, it’s kol. can we talk?”

@seesgood​ || for a post-everyone-died feel good time

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currently reading a book and now here is a plot i need:

muse a is a siren and is known as the prince(sse)s’bane. every year on their birthday, they sing for and lure in a prince(ss) and steal the royal heir’s heart as they drown.  muse b is a prince(ss) who is not really about the royal life. instead, they’ve spent their life out on the sea as a pirate and as a siren hunter. they’ve devoted their life to ridding the world of sirens and making humans safer. 

muse a decides that muse b is the perfect target. muse b believes that muse a would be the greatest kill of their life.

after an accident involving muse a that leaves a mermaid dead and muse b very much alive, the sea queen is furious and punishes muse a by turning them human, giving them a fortnight to complete the task they’d originally set out to do: steal muse b’s heart. only now, muse a has to do it without their voice, without the strength of the sirens, the fangs or claws. now they have to try, as a human, to kill a prince(ss) and pirate who is always armed and on guard. 

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•| headcanon || emma thinks of her family with deep fondness, though she simultaneously considers herself to be on her own. 

when she was sixteen, her parents died in a gruesome car accident, leaving emma and her older brother eli (who was just nineteen at the time) to fend for themselves. the life insurance of their parents left emma and eli well cared for, but the children were at a lost as to how to continue on from there. 

slowly they regrouped, but when emma was just 21, she and eli were presented with some life-altering news which she keeps tightly under wrap unless it is with someone who she trusts entirely. emma and eli could not come to an agreement regarding solutions for the incident and the difference of opinions caused a deep falling out with the pair.

she hasn’t spoken to him since their last huge fight two years ago. |•