#crowsandmurder

The EXILED princess of England. A girl with no real social standing, and only allowed at court because of her mother, Little Minette tended to stick very close to her mother.

They called her Henriette Anne d'Angleterre. She didn't know very much English though, in fact, her first language had been French, she had been raised with FRENCH tutor's, and French maids, she was practically more French than her own mother.

The Fronde had recently ended, and she was welcomed finally to court. She could feel eyes on her EVERY TIME she moved about the court. She wasn't sure she was comfortable with the looks she received.

Lip bitten softly, she stood on a balcony watching all of those below. The court was AWASH with whispers that she might be put up as a bride for the King, but she doubted it. Her mother would never reach so high!

disappointment wasn't a brand new emotional struggle for haley: that had come long before nathan, too, thanks to her lifelong high expectations out of herself and everyone else. on the bright side of that personality trait, she saw the best in people and championed them to be better, but, whenever they fell really short of that perfect image in her head? she went nuclear, feeling incredibly betrayed, and defeated. it happened with lucas when he cheated on brooke with peyton, and it was happening again, and the situation repeated itself with the opposite brother and reversed roles. this wasn't just about pregnancy hormones, or even her and nathan: as a friend, she saw peyton be punished and iced out by brooke for months for what happened with lucas. to realize how hypocrite that turned out to be in hindsight, only made her feel double betrayed: one for herself, and one for peyton, and what she had to endure for a mistake her best friend had also made, but was coward enough to keep in secret.

hazel eyes look up at the sound of his apology, and, strangely, him admitting he was using the same excuse all over again gave her a sense of relief: like they could fix this because he acknowledged he'd done something wrong. but, as he went on talking, it was clear he didn't understand, at all. ❝ don't you get it, nathan? i didn't ask you to make that list for you to actually give it to me, i asked you because i was insecure, and i wanted you to reassure me there was no one else you'd rather be with other than me. if we're gonna make this marriage work, you're gonna have to start taking these kind of hints more often. ❞ a pause, before screeching in disgust at the number of unwanted details she was getting, ❝ i think me and the baby can live without hearing the rest about your past cougar encounters, thank you very much. as for your question, i knew you'd slept with other girls ― i'm not that naive, i was around school to hear the gossip, remember? it's just ― the boy i saw in that tape, and in that list, it's not the guy i fell in love with. not even close. but that boy is also a part of you, of who you were, and i guess a part of me was scared i've been blind to the less-stand-up versions of yourself. ever since we started dating i shut out everyone's warnings about who nathan scott is, and, in a way, i guess i fooled myself into thinking he didn't really exist, because you'd never been than nathan with me. last night, i was forced to meet him, and i didn't particularly like him. that's all. ❞

Plotted starter for @crowsandmurder

Merrin had known that this plan would go south since it was decided that Cere and Cal were going to infiltrate the imperial fortress located on the water moon, Nur. This place's force signature was dark and all over the place in a way that made her skin crawl, but she'd insisted on remaining where she could sense them, to make sure she could reach them if they were to need backup in the process of getting the Holocron back from the inquisitor that stole it.

Before long, she was able to sense their distress, somewhere in that underwater structure that could become their tomb, if she didn't do something to help.

She reached through the force, and used her growing connection with both Jedi to locate and teleport herself to where they were, a long hall made of glass and surrounded by water. The sight almost made her sick, being in such depths wasn't at all natural to get. But Merrin couldn't dwell long on what did and didn't feel natural to her, she had to protect Cere and Cal from the large armored warrior currently attacking them. Her heart raced as she pulled both Jedi back with the force, needing to put some distance between them and the one attacking them as she tried to come up with a counter attack to slow him down.

Creating an illusion seemed like the best option. Green tendrils of glowing energy seeped from the tips of her pale, tattooed fingers as she muttered the words in Dathomirian, and reached out with one hand towards the Sith lord.

Nightsister Magick made psych attacks easier, because they didn't target the kind of thing that those used to psychic attacks would focus on guarding. No, deception spells went after the wants, the longing, those things that were easier to reach. Merrin had honestly expected to see Cal and Cere dead on the floor, with the warrior towering over them, undefeated. But the illusion her spell created was not at all like that.

Instead of the underwater hall, now there was a balcony surrounded by miles and miles of vegetation and buildings, a clear sky and very delicately crafted architecture, and instead of the dark armored warrior with metal limbs, there stood a man, with only one metal limb, robes instead of the black suit he'd previously wore, and with his face exposed.

She could still feel Cal's hand holding onto her arm, and his voice right beside her but sounding so far away. But she was focused on the current predicament: if this was the same man that had just been about to kill them, then he clearly had some personal agenda of his own, that didn't involve the empire.

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YOU. DON'T. HAVE. TO. GIVE. YOUR. VILLAINS. A. VERSE. WHERE. THEY. DIDN'T. BECOME. A. VILLAIN. PEOPLE. CANNOT. TELL. YOU. HOW. TO. WRITE. STAND. YOUR. GROUND.

The one woman who thinks she can make a good man out of him, is such a stupid trope. I have hated that one, for years.

Villains can villain. They don't have to be someone different. They don't have to back down for someone, because they can't handle it.

Some of us villain writers are very characterization focused, and we won't make them softer for you.

           Stumbling in the sand, Reva finds herself scowling, holding onto her side. She’s surprised to find herself back here, but taking out the comm-link, she allows herself a small smirk as she replays the damaged video from Organa. She doesn’t know who this boy on Tattooine is, doesn’t know much - but she knows the name Owen, remembers the man well, which means surely - there’s some more information she can drag out of him. Taking a step, she finds herself straightening when she hears the recognizable, mechanical breathing of Vader, and she finds herself turning around with wide eyes.

Siggy had not left the ship’s rail since they saw the first fjord. She knew these winds. She knew these hills. She knew these waves. The wind stung, but she refused to go back into the shelter on the ship. She finally relented to assist Alfred into the clothes she had brought for him - it would do him no good to be dressed like a King of England. 

When they were closer she returned, this time with Aethelflaed in her arms. The babe was not yet a year old, but Siggy was sure she must feel the pull that her mother did to the shores before them. Kattegat. 

They were three unassuming ships. Alfred had insisted on some sort of a guard. So they were not imposing, but still a protection. Theirs was the first of the three to dock on Kattegat’s shores; they had just missed the freezing season but ice chunks still beat against the sides of the ship. Siggy wondered who would meet them - surely it would be Ubbe. He was always walking about outside of the longhouse. 

@crowsandmurder​