One Thousand and One AUs

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Post by no mom its ironic on Thu Sep 25, 2014 3:24 am

I did the thing where I switch tenses again, God, me, get your shit together

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Post by Death is... kinda hot on Thu Sep 25, 2014 9:42 am

Yayayayyay

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Post by no mom its ironic on Fri Sep 26, 2014 1:04 am

i have run into an issue

should hagrid still be teaching at hogwarts or not, because if so he would be the one escorting the first years.

what do i do with teachers. can i just pretend they dont exist because theyre not important and mostly this is just the lox crew fucking around

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Post by no mom its ironic on Fri Sep 26, 2014 1:08 am

also i dont think valon would be a death eater but he would definitely be the sort of person you wouldnt be surprised to be a death eater

he was slytherin, obv

saivels mom and dad prob were hufflepuff, i think

i imagine the family tended to be either hufflepuff or slytherin; you put others before yourself or you put yourself before others

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Post by no mom its ironic on Fri Sep 26, 2014 1:30 am

i feel like maybe saivel has permission to use some magic despite being underage? as long as shes supervised by her dad i guess
like

for reasons
(she becomes an animagus during the summer and every now and then (by which i mean a lot of times) arthur wakes up to see a magpie on the windowsill)

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Post by no mom its ironic on Fri Sep 26, 2014 2:06 am

fuck it, random thoughts in general

saivel makes her crush on arthur almmsot PAINFULLY obvious but arthur really sees it as nothing because she and venia are hella affectionate because thats the way they are and its still a platonic relationship

finally something happens either christmas (mistletoe) or february (duh) where saivel goes 'listen up you fuck how oblivious can you be' and arthur goes 'wait what oKAY'

aaron is a slytherin who venia encounters when visiting saivel and basically attaches herself to liek 'HEY HOW ARE YOU HOW WAS YOUR DAY LETS BE FRIENDS OK. FRIENDS. BEST FRIENDS.' and aaron is obv less closed off by now so he relents and he becomes Good Friends with people

arthur would def become prefect and possibly head boy

same with kaime, actually. 

anyway over the summer between third and fourth year or somewhere around there a) saivel learns to become an animagus and b) aaron gets bitten and basically becomes invisible around school because it was a really tentative decision to let him keep attending anyway

except then theyre all like 'ok dude what the fuck were not gonna fuckin stab you with a stake or any sort of shit like that' and eventually relaxes but hes still more closed off than before

cyrus alberdine is an older slytherin who saivel absolutely hates. practically everybody knows that he is in love with this girl Diana (who my brain is saying is ravenclaw, god knows why) but she's with this gryffindor dude

he's an asshole to the lox crew, p much, and once even put some garlic in aaron's food. it was all they could do to keep venia from murdering him

anyway after they graduate they p much decide yep, aurors. thats what were gonna do and were gonna do that shit tOGETHER but kaime is all 'nah im cool im not really one to fight people' so they nag him but eventually give up, so kaime replaces hagrid eventually

but a few years after they graduate, everythings going fine, oh wait no, saivels granddad is going to die. and then of course you know what happens, kinda, at least valon gets rid of veren and inherits his fathers wand and immediately sets off to be a terrible person but arthur stops him, somehow, just barely, and in turn gets the wand himself

however in the process he gets really injured and loses a lot of memories which is obviously prETTY TERRIBLE FORT HE LOX CREW

bUT VALON HAS A HORCRUX. and so he BECOMES EON

YEAH

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Post by Death is... kinda hot on Fri Sep 26, 2014 9:19 am

ROCK ON!

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Sep 28, 2014 3:11 am

chapter two: a hymn yet there is no god

She breathed, unsteadily, in her mouth, out of her nose, wings still stretched out behind her, muscles tense. Steel flashed in the late morning light and her eyes unwittingly looked towards the edge. Red. Dull, dark red. Sticky, shining darkly. Blood. Her uncle’s blood.

Saivel’s hand shook, almost imperceptibly. Her eyelids fluttered closed. At least, she thought, I gave him more honor than he gave my father. And yet this thought enraged her because then he did not deserve what she gave him, he deserved to fall into the ocean and be forever forgotten, he deserved to die like a dog.

What should she do with his body? she wondered, questioning whether perhaps she should dump him in the ocean or perhaps—

Perhaps, she should tell her grandfather.

The girl exhaled and gritted her teeth as wings receded into her back and jagged scars sealed themselves back together. She looked down at Valon lying on the floor, blood trickling from his neck, limbs splayed unnaturally. His eyes were still open. With a wave of her hand she lifted a jacket and draped it over the corpse.

Time to pay a visit to Grandpa, she thought to herself.

*~*~*~*

He sighed the moment he saw her walking in, a long, drawn out sigh. It seemed to drain him of the little remaining color he had left. “What?” he whispered, voice wavering. Saivel could barely hear him, he spoke so softly. “What is it?”

She pressed her lips hard against each other, reaching out a hand to rest upon her grandfather’s shoulder. His purple eyes stared up at her, though they did not seem quite purple anymore. They were watery, glassy, as drained of color as the rest of him. Slowly, his own hand covered hers. It felt too light, his bones felt too brittle and his hand too thin.

“Valon,” she began. He closed his eyes and sighed again, mouthing the name.

“I know,” he said, his eyes opening again and staring at her. Yet they did not really seem to be looking at her, past her really. It made Saivel feel slightly uncomfortable, that blank stare from those glassy eyes.

“…what?” Her shock was quiet, unusually so. It simply felt wrong to be loud, even for Saivel, the one who would also stand out from the crowd. There was a quietness in this room, the stillness of death coming.

“Jealousy,” he said. “...terrible.”

Saivel swallowed. “You knew he killed my father.”

Her grandfather nodded, slowly. “I know you killed him.

“You said nothing.” Now the silence that covered the room, such that it seemed tangible, could not stop Saivel. “You said nothing! He killed my father—he killed your son—he killed his brother—and you. You said—you said nothing.” A strangled noise came from her mouth, her hand springing from his arm to painfully clench onto her face.

“What would my words have done?”

“He would—I would—he would’ve met justice long before.” Her hand left her face and she instead fisted it. “Why did you say NOTHING?” The silence was shattered as she practically screamed the question.

He paused and closed his eyes again, licking his lips and opening them slightly, breathing in before speaking a word.

“I did not want to believe it was true.”

Saivel was not sure why this made her cry, only that she was unable to keep a choked sob from forcing its way out of her throat. Tears began to spill onto her cheeks as she thumped her fists against the table next to her grandfather’s bed. After a while she rested her head against it, her fingers entangled in her black hair.

“He’s dead,” she said in a choked voice, staring at the ground. “Valon’s dead. I killed… I killed him.” Another sob came and her shoulders shook, robbing her of speech for those moments.

Even though she could not see the gesture, her grandfather nodded. “I know, Saivel.” His voice rattled from his mouth, buried underneath his granddaughter’s sobs. And then came a different sort of sigh, not really a sigh—rather it seemed to be a long, purposeful exhale, one that carried great weight with it.

After this there came silence. Saivel sniffed and looked up. Her grandfather lay still on his bed, white sheets and white skin and white hair. His eyes were closed and his head lolled backwards, even propped up as it was on his pillow.

“No” came out of her mouth before she even knew what was happening. “No!” she screamed it now, fully aware of what was to come. “No, not now, not now, you can’t die—stop it!” She had to sniff again, her cheeks still damp. “Stop it, come back! Come back!

Instinctively, she had backed up a few steps. There was now a fair distance between her and her grandfather on his bed—still, too still… dead. No. Not dead. That was not—she could not—she was not—why?

She fell to her knees, covering her face with her hands, crying again. Dead, dead, dead, they were dead and gone, her father probably lying somewhere she would never find him, somewhere he would be forgotten and left to rot. Her uncle was hidden beneath a jacket, eyes still open, blood no longer flowing from the slit on his throat. Those eyes were staring, unseeing. Her grandfather almost looked as if he was sleeping but no, she buried her face in the mattress and somehow her hand fell upon his and immediately she had to draw back.

There was a glow all around her, at once flowing like water and at once solid like stone and at once spiked and at once bright and dark and fiery. “No, no, no, no…” she whispered, tears falling onto the floor. Her red eyes took in all that was happening around her. “Stop. Please.” But of course, Chaos would not heed her word.

Immediately she felt imbued with power and yet weaker and more vulnerable than she had ever felt before. She turned and leaned against her grandfather’s bed, hair a mess, eyes puffy and red, still sniffing. Angrily she balled her hands into fists and screamed, not really caring what she was screaming, not really caring what it was she hit.

Blood, she realized, that was what the sticky feeling was on her knuckles, but who cared? Certainly not her. An abomination of a laugh came out of her, not a laugh at all but a deranged sob.

Time seemed to get lost somewhere. Eventually she was aware of the door opening and her mother’s voice whispering her name and the fact that her hands were practically covered in her own blood by now. There were words of concern being spoken. She didn’t really hear them; it was as if they were echoing around her, indistinct reverberations that weren’t really coherent, that didn’t properly form sentences.

“Saivel.” Her mother placed her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and this brought Saivel back to reality. She looked up into her mother’s eyes. Blue met purple.

“I’m sorry,” she said, in what was more of an exhale than speech. Her legs shook, but somehow she managed to make her way to her feet. Part of her was just numb, shocked, unfeeling. Another part of her was still screaming, still angry, still wanted to strike out and just hurt something, someone. Finally, the last part of her felt such sorrow that it outweighed everything else.

Tight-lipped, her mother nodded. It wasn’t really confirming anything, it was more of a comforting gesture. Saivel watched her leave the room and looked down at her hands, sticky with blood. They hurt, or they should hurt, at least. She didn’t really care.

Uncertainly she rested against the wall for a moment before walking back to her room slowly. The moment she opened the door and got close enough she practically collapsed onto her bed. The bleeding had stopped, at least, and she could just clean anything that got onto her sheets.

She slept a dreamless sleep.

*~*~*~*

Saivel rubbed her knuckles thoughtfully and watched the black box descend into the hole they’d dug into the ground. She felt a sort of detachment from the whole process; they weren’t really lowering anything into that hole. Her grandfather was not there, no, he was gone, disappeared. Somewhere she did not know.

She touched her thumb to the corner of her mouth. Perhaps her father was there too.

There were people, more people than just her family. Of course there was Kaime, who stood next to her. Usually they were comforting, calming; there was just something about them that made people relax. But Saivel was still tense, uncertain. Everything felt wrong and the air was too cold, biting her lungs as she inhaled and exhaled through her mouth, watching her breath fog in the cold air.

A man stood nearby, but he was no ordinary man. He had brought musicians with him, first of all. They were playing a hymn, as far as Saivel could tell. A hymn, yet there is no god, she thought to herself  with more of a grimace than a smile. Secondly, this man simply had an air of importance about him; not of pride, no, but the way he carried himself and just some part of him was important. Thirdly, she had heard of this man before. He walked over to her, and she knew he was going to talk. Saivel did not want to talk.

She breathed in and prepared herself mentally. “You are Varyl’s granddaughter, correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” she said, trying not to make it sound cold.

“I…” the king paused, uncertain of what to say next. Saivel bit her lip. “I’m sorry. Varyl was a great man.”

“He was,” she agreed. Her eyes flickered over to the man standing next to the king. Judging by the fact he was dressed in full armor and the way he held himself, he must be military. “I can only hope I will be half as good as he was.”

“I trust in you, Miss Athess.” The king smiled but Saivel could not find the heart to smile back.

“I don’t,” she muttered, then said, “I’m sorry, I just…” She passed a hand over her face. “I would prefer to be left alone for now. Perhaps we can talk later.”

The king nodded understandingly and Saivel mentally thanked him for that. Kaime looked at her worriedly and she just shook her head and sighed. She did not have the strength right now. Instead she walked back to her home, but paused at the door to listen to the music, still playing, but now fading off.

A hymn but there is no god, she thought again, opening the door and stepping inside.


Last edited by elder on Sat May 23, 2015 10:26 pm; edited 1 time in total

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Post by Andrew on Sun Sep 28, 2014 9:29 am

           “Aw, who cares about the other students.” With a happy sigh, Saivel sat down next to Venia. “I care about my chocolate and nothing else.”

           “Would you marry chocolate, though?”
The dialog matches up with the actual books almost perfectly

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Sep 28, 2014 5:54 pm

Wait really I

Brain what the fuck

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Post by Andrew on Sun Sep 28, 2014 6:05 pm

You have become the ultimate fanfiction writer.

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Sep 28, 2014 6:58 pm

also tbh i expected a comment on aungst central up there (see what i did? yeah? yeha?????? yeha????????????????????)

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Post by Andrew on Sun Sep 28, 2014 7:05 pm

dangit

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Post by Death is... kinda hot on Mon Sep 29, 2014 10:01 am

It was angsty.

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 05, 2014 1:52 am

i started work on the last chapter of myth au which isnt really writing but im like. 2/9 done. someone give me a high five here

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 05, 2014 3:36 am

to be fair i should actually write the like, second-to-last chapter

so ill do that

tomorrow

because i should go to sleep

*finger shotguns*

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Post by Death is... kinda hot on Mon Oct 06, 2014 11:54 am

I'll high-five you!

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 12, 2014 1:42 am

Chapter Thirteen

My head hurt.

I already told you that, but I want to emphasize that point to make you understand exactly how much my head hurt. Initially it had just been a slightly annoying pain, then it had turned into the sort of pain after you’ve just stubbed a toe. With every step I took downwards, it steadily increased.

I swore. Loudly.

Max looked back up at me. “You okay?”

I grimaced. “I’ll still have to go down, won’t I?”

She didn’t answer, just turned back around and kept walking. I stopped there on the step for a moment. They couldn’t make me go down, could they? Well actually, I thought to myself wryly, they’re gods. They could probably make me do anything if they had a mind to.

But I could resist, perhaps? For how long? Eris had said I was a weapon but weapons aren’t particularly known for wielding themselves. I didn’t know half of what was happening at any point in time or have the ability to control any of the things I’d learned I had the ability to do. Algebra confused me.

In my mind, I went over what I’d done. When Elder had scared me, I’d unintentionally made the fire enlarge. But it hadn’t been on purpose, it was just instinct. Like a cat puffing up bigger to look more threatening.

The second ability was the sight thing, but that wouldn’t help.

For that matter, what was the thing with Max and Elder’s theory? They’d called together a meeting and immediately regretted it afterwards. It hardly seemed a ‘theory,’ more a ‘quickly cobbled together idea which is mostly just conjecture.’

“Arthur.” Max’s resigned voice brought me back to reality. I blinked and looked down at the stairs below. Only thirteen steps were between me and… the complete unknown. Hesitantly, my hand firmly gripped on the railing, I began descending again. The moment my foot hit the step below me, I felt the pain returning with a vengeance.

After taking a breath, I grit my teeth and steeled myself. The next few steps were agony. I looked at Max, trying to get her to show some pity. She just had to shrug and smile. She seemed more worthy of pity at that moment than I did.

“Max, my head hurts like shit. If I walk into that room I’ll probably, I don’t know.” I shrugged.

“Pass out from pain?”

“Yeah, that.” I nodded and immediately regretted it. My vision flashed for a moment and Max was silvery white, then she was back to normal. Well—‘normal.’ “…do I have to go in?”

“They’ll make you.”

“They can’t make me.”

Max laughed. “Well, I suppose not really. But… don’t make them make you.”

“Nice sentence, Max. Alright. See you in hell.” I grinned. She didn’t.

“Don’t joke about that,” she said instead, walking forward briskly to open the door. I gulped, thoughts racing through my mind at a million miles a minute. Oh God. They could die. I could die.

“According to your… ‘theory,’ what will happen?” I asked nervously, shifting my weight from one foot to another. I wanted to delay my entering the room for as long as possible. (A/N: and I wanted to stretch this on for as many pages as possible)

“It’s not a very definite ‘theory,’” Max said with derision. “Hence why we made a decision then immediately did a 180 and said ‘Wait, no, we fucked up, stop.’” She sighed. “But of course, gods. Idiots.

“Anyway,” she continued. “…just. Don’t joke about ‘seeing me in hell.’”

“Oh,” I said, or maybe I just thought it. My voice was so soft I could barely hear myself.

Every step brought more pain until I could’ve sworn my head was going to burst. My vision flashed; everything turned bright white and the entrance, through which I could see nothing of the inside of the room, glowed. Waves of power rushed over me.

I had to stop and take a breath multiple times. Max purposefully looked away and swallowed, looking scared.

Not as scared as I am, I thought rudely.

Then I gathered myself and managed to step through the door.

The first thing I saw was Elder, who stood in front of me. Immediately she placed her hand firmly on my head and I felt the pain alleviate somewhat. I looked at her somewhat. She quirked a not-smile and turned around swiftly to face the room in front of us.

I blinked. I couldn’t see anything that was happening; it all blurred into an indistinct image. Elder’s voice rang clear in my ears, though. She was trying to hide nervousness, but her voice shook almost imperceptibly.

“Here you go,” she yelled to everyone. “I told you so in advance.” With that, she turned around swiftly and exited the room.

The sensation was… overpowering. Have you ever been on the beach and then you got the bright idea to walk into the waves? At first, in the shallow area, you could easily walk. The waves were gentle and you could barely feel them. It was great fun, you thought, because you were a child and foolish like that.

As you went deeper though, the waves began to get stronger and the water came higher. You began to struggle to walk forward. The water came up to your chest and it was all you could do to keep it from knocking you over. Finally you had to retreat and run back to the shore, to your parents, because otherwise the waves would sweep you away and you would never be seen again.

It was like that; like waves crashing against you, threatening to push you over and pull you with them, into the depths of the ocean. I’m not sure if I screamed or not or if I fell to my knees or if I cried—I only remember everything in the world seemed to be crashing at me, an immense wave of sheer power. I remember everything at once was around me; gold coins clinking against each other, the salty spray of the ocean, a chilling cold, the roll of thunder. Bones click-clack-clicked and the sun rose with the moon. Earth cracked and moaned, fire crackled and I felt its burning heat against my skin. Spring bloomed around me and winter’s cold took the flowers away just as quickly.

Now that I think about it, I am fairly certain I did scream. You would have too, don’t lie. Well, if there is a you.

Not sure if she’ll share this. I doubt she will. Probably she’ll just read it over and laugh and maybe if she’s feeling particularly cruel—

Nevermind. I shouldn’t think about that. Writing this is pleasant, somewhat. It was pleasant. Writing this… is terrible.

Voices echoed around me, but I couldn’t quite catch them. It was as if they were bouncing all around me, and yet never came close enough that my ears could hear. I can only guess at what they were saying, but they were probably confused at why I was closing my eyes tightly shut and appeared to be in terrible, terrible pain.

I remember I opened my eyes and then, yes, then I screamed. The world itself unfolded in front of me. The universe began and ended. I saw every tree sprout and every tree die; I knew how many waves had crashed against the shore since waves had crashed against the shore. I saw every man die and I saw where he went. It was terrible. Some would have said it was beautiful as well in some sort of ‘poetic way,’ but if I’m to be completely honest with you, it was terrible. It was terrible and horrific and I wanted to escape it.

After that my vision went black.

*~*~*~*

When I woke up, I was in my room again. On my bed, to be specific.

Immediately I sat up, terrified. Adrenaline was coursing through me. Everything around me was in various shades of dull, colorless gray.

Practically against my will, I looked to my left. I tried to resist turning my head, but I heard a snap and bam, my eyes were looking upon something I didn’t want to see. It was worse than earlier.

Her hair was so dark a black that it seemed a hole in space; her skin so white it almost radiated light. But her eyes were gold, gold all over—there was no pupil or iris, just gold.

Eris smiled. I opened my mouth to say something—rather, I thought to open my mouth to say something, but nothing happened. It was like it was glued shut.

I wanted to look away but I couldn’t look away. It was like I was just watching through eyes that weren’t my own. My hand reached out and I realized she was holding something in hers.

She held it up, spinning it delicately, admiring its shine in the light. I felt sick. After so long, she turned back to me with those eyes, those eyes that were pure gold. Somehow I knew they were looking at me, despite their lack of pupils.

Eris held out her hand, offering me the apple. I leaned forward and took it.

“Thank you, mother,” said my voice.

“Make me proud,” she said in reply.

I held the apple in my hand and looked at it. And then suddenly, my head was filled with knowledge. I knew everything. I knew my purpose and my power and I just knew. No question I had had was left unanswered; or at least, none that I cared about now. Because now I had one purpose.

Discord.

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 12, 2014 1:45 am

if you're wondering about my progress on the last chapter.............


its not good

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 12, 2014 1:59 am

ok guys do you think murder is more 'accent' or 'makes shit more exciting' or 'sudden difference'

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 12, 2014 2:03 am

or OR alternatively i could do 'fortepiano' because meanwhile peaceful things are happening

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 12, 2014 2:04 am

and it also wORKS because a lot of times you do a crescendo after a fortepiano

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Post by no mom its ironic on Sun Oct 12, 2014 2:12 am

OH MY GOD I KNOW WHAT IM GOING TO NAME THIS ONE CHAPTER AND YOU'RE GOING TO BE REALLY CONFUSED and then and tHEN IT wont actually make sense because music terms

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Post by Andrew on Sun Oct 12, 2014 9:02 am

Algebra confused me.
Accurate. Very accurate.

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Post by Death is... kinda hot on Sun Oct 12, 2014 1:50 pm

I don't know what to reply to.

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