Remember, remember.

D&D Quotes Without Context

Invidia Arc, part 1

CW: CONTAINS DISCUSSION OF POSSIBLY MURDERING A CHILD.

As they come out of the mists Jonni’s hair Burt’s into fire. She doesn’t see me to notice.

Gorbash: “You know I'm almost less surprised by the surreal nightmare land. I think all this hopping between domains is leaving me jaded.” Jonni shrugs, “eh, all gonna be on fire soon enough.” Gorbash gives a concerned look. "Your hair has gotten a head start on that.” Jonni: “The what now?” Gorbash: “Your. Hair. Is. On. Fire.”

Gorbash: “Eh, things being on fire when you're angry isn't all that weird. It's just usually other people.”

Meats of evil! Meats of evil!

"No! Bad dog! No eating living meat!”

"TIme to bleed, let's see if you like being on the menu!” "I have a recipe.”

"That CAN'T be a good sign.” "Did you check to see if the batteries need recharging?”

"Probably ran out of warranty. Shoddy Hazlin work.”

OOC: Don’t forget Poom, who is here now. OOC2: Suddenly.

“Marsh, gives hugs to the little sausage boy, I gotta check something.”

"Voices thought I could use more varied artillery.”

"Might be a stupid question, but have you always been made of lunch meat?”

“It’s either laugh or cry in these parts. Don’t take it personal. We survive via snark.”

"Don't worry, from here we got it Mayor McMeaty.” “Dude, too soon.”

"It's magic, so it made her magic more magical.”

“Jonni? Can you still reliably light things on fire? If so then that's good enough for now.” The ground is now on fire. “Yes.”

"Uh, not to be rude but can this big guy talk with that mask stapled to his face? That looks painful.”

"I saw a bird. It was pretty. I kicked its ass.”

OOC: Dude's seen shit, man. OOC2: He’s gonna see all new types of shit.

"You are here for the governess position.” Irost clears his throat. "We are. I am Marty Poppins. Practically Snarky in Every Way.”

The devil leads you to the gates, you are lead into the gardens to a giant chess board, with life size pieces. “Kinky.”

GM OOC: You're overthinking this, it’s not a puzzle or trap. OOC: But...it's D&D.

As the party steps onto the board, Marshal only moves in an L-Pattern.

"Okay. Kid mad with power scenario Beta,” "I am NOT murdering a child!” "Scenario Gamma then.”

“Do I need you to make that stop?” “Yes." “Do I need you in one piece to make that stop?”

“So, how open are you to child murder? Personally, I’m [usually against], but I’m open to suggestions.”

"I have seen some of the stuff that kid has done with his powers. I've met Balors with more basic decency.” “That sounds like a kid.”

"Darklord. She'll respawn and learn nothing.” “I’m very creative.”

“Irost, you got magic eyes? My sexy dances arn’t working.”

Nyx: ”Then we need to hurry and get this search started. Let's split up, gang.” Nyarlathotep: "Whelp, they're goners.” Nyx: ”Nyarlathotep, I can always count on you for words of encouragement.”

Irost, Nyx, Marshal, you find the playroom on the ground floor. It is filled with a drawing easel, several boxes of toys, and an Angel chained to the wall next to several implements of torture.

"As the good book says: So much sadness as devils strike, but the truth is buckaroos always win in the end. Love is and always will be real, no devil can stop that. Amen.”

But that giant baby doll is beginning to move towards you. Gorbash: “You sit your giant baby ass down right now! I have an axe and I'm not afraid to use it.” It stops for a moment and just stands there, tilting its head. Gorbash reiterates in a commanding voice. "Sit. Down. Now. Thank you very much.” Baby doll sits down. Gorbash: “That goes for any of the rest of you that are getting the idea to get up.”

“Listen, I am Jonni Humantorch, and this lively flame is Leveshia, 37th Princess of Fuck Mountain. We are the greatest lovers of women in the multiverse.” The maid scoffs, "I am a handmaiden of Lloth herself, you believe yourself a better lover than the Queen of the Demonweb Pits herself?” Jonni: “Yes.”

"Well then we're gonna have a problem.” Jonni: “Can we settle it in a sexy duel?” The maid melts into a huge cyclopean tower of flesh with tentacles. Jonni: “That’s not a no.”

“Hey, no. We treat service industry with respect. We’re killing her cause she turned into a murderous flesh pole and won’t give us the bone board.”

Irost comes charging in, at the sound of violence. "Back up has arriv-- HOLY ONE EYED TENTACLE MONSTERS!” Nyarlathotep: "Yes, we are quite worship-able, aren't we?”

"She must mean the Headmaster and the Basement Boogie.” “They do anything nasty?” "The headmaster might assign really annoying homework over holidays?”

Gorbash: “Let's torch another basement dwelling abomination! We haven't done that since Mordent.”

"Oh, and Phil is the bondage angel in the kids room.”

"No, not a labyrinth. Next thing you know a sexy Goblin king will show up, but look totally human.” "We do not need a sexy Slaadi.”

When you come to the door of the basement, it’s dark, leading to a labyrinth of stone corridors with strange runes scratched on the walls. They are mostly gibberish, written in Slaad. Some nursery rhymes, and a recipe for fudge.

"Darn it, Nyarl, you know only Poom and I can hear that music when you play it.”

"Let's croak a toad!”

"I suspect magnets.”

Poom: "I call 'Not it' on hacking its stomach open.”

OOC: We got an Emperor Joker situation here.

You’re The Reason I’m Leaving

Chapter Three of I’m Your Villain

Words: 3063

Warnings: mentions of death, murder, all the usual things for a story about an assassin

The weather has turned from sun to pouring rain in the span of an hour, and Cadmus paces his room in a dour mood. 

There are a few hours till nightfall when he needs to leave for Greythal, and he’s trying to strategize and pack his saddle bag but the incessant sound of the rain is too distracting. It’s giving him a headache and he could really use a nap, or a drink, but he has no time for either. 

His pacing stops abruptly as he feels a presence at his back and he turns to see his door swing open soundlessly. It’s nearly impossible to sneak up on him after years of honing his instincts, and even his brother who has magical abilities that allow him to fade into invisibility can’t pass unnoticed.

“Come to see me off, then?” Cadmus smirks, taking in the sight of his younger brother leaning against the doorframe. Alastor looks expressionless as always, his demeanor cold as the icy color of his skin. The Durand family are all blonde, but Alastor’s hair is white. 

Alastor takes a step into the room and Cadmus resists the urge to take a step back to distance himself from his brother. Alastor smiles, a look that reminds Cadmus of his father in its unnaturalness. “I wouldn’t be so happy if I were you, Cadmus. This isn’t an ordinary mission.” 

Cadmus scoffs,“You’re just upset that father sent me instead of you.”

“No. I have missions of my own, far more important ones.” Alastor walks over to the window, peering outside with disdain.

“I doubt that, but since you’ve clearly come here to gloat about it- do tell me how important you are.” Cadmus rolls his eyes and turns back to the bag he’d been packing. If he has to stand here and listen to Alastor, he can at least do something more useful with his time.

“You have no clue, do you?” Alastor’s tone has gone even colder, his anger turning on like a light. Cadmus has the same temper, but while he’s fire- Alastor is all ice

“No clue about what?”

“You’re easily replaceable, if you fail someone will rise up to take your place.” Alastor sounds like he’s reciting the words from memory. “Father once told me that when you die there won't even be a funeral, you won’t get a burial. He said ‘Why would we make a monument to Cadmus’ failure?’ When you die it will be as if you never existed.” 

Cadmus laughs, this is nothing he hasn’t heard before. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I’d like to be cremated then! Makes things easier for all of us.” He crosses the room to where his brother stands staring at the rain. “Now, did you have a point to make or did you just come here to be an asshole? I’m a bit busy if you haven’t noticed.”

Alastor scoffs and turns to face his brother, his expression returned to blank stone. “Good luck then, brother.” The way he says the word is like a curse.

Instead of using the door, Alastor turns towards the stone wall and walks through it as if it wasn’t there. Another of his fancy magic tricks. Their mother had always favored Alastor, she’d taught him all of the magic she knows and as he’d risen in power he’d also risen as a threat. He’s only a few years younger than Cadmus, but Cadmus knows he wants the throne.

Cadmus doesn’t care much for ruling. He thinks being the Comte would be boring, too much administration, not enough action. But it’s his right as the eldest and he’ll be damned if he lets his creepy shit of a little brother take it from him. Alastor is clearly willing to kill for the position, and Cadmus doesn’t doubt he’ll strike when the opportunity arises. So he keeps his guard up, not trusting even the stones around him. 

Cadmus has got one more goodbye, and he’s saved the most important for last. His sister’s room is down the hall from his, around a winding corner where guards are always posted. Despite his cruelty, Daphne is the Comte’s favorite child by far. She’s kept in her gilded cage, only to be released some day when the perfect suitor arrives.

Before Cadmus can even raise his hand to knock on the door it swings open, revealing the excited face of his younger sister. She opens the door for him to enter and he takes in the sight of her room, drawn in by the color and vibrancy. Every wall is covered in paintings she’s done, and every window sill is full of plants. It’s her one sanctuary in this desolate place and though the room feels just as cold as the rest of the castle, it’s full of Daphne’s warmth.

“What did father say?” Daphne asks, pulling Cadmus further in so she can shut the door behind him.

Cadmus sighs, not wanting to disappoint her. “I’m afraid I have bad news. He wouldn’t budge.” 

“Noooo.” Daphne puts her head in her hands dramatically and Cadmus would laugh if he didn’t hear real despair in her voice. “When do you have to leave again?” 

“Tonight. But perhaps once Greythal has been secured father will be less worried about your safety. I’m sorry Daph.” 

Daphne heaves a heavy sigh that seems to reveal the weight of the world resting on her shoulders. “I’ll survive, I always do. I have my books at least.” 

“Don’t be too hard on Clarisse while I’m gone,” Cadmus says, thinking of the old woman who had been his governess and is now Daphne’s. She’d been strict, but kinder than his own mother had ever been. Or at least more present, which has to count for something,

“You should tell Clarisse not to be too hard on me! She’s practically made my fingers bleed with all the needlepoint she’s been forcing on me.” Daphne scowls, rubbing her fingertips together as if remembering the pain of a needle prick. “I want to learn to fight like you, or do magic! Anything would be more useful than sitting indoors all day. Mother says I’m too dull for magic but she’s never even tried to teach me!” 

“She said I was too dull for magic too.” Cadmus laughs, “And trust me, you don’t want to learn to fight.” 

“I think I’d look quite imposing with a sword.” Daphne strikes a pose, lifting her hand up as if she’s holding a weapon. Cadmus laughs at the sight of her, over a foot shorter than him and wearing a very impractical gown. She turns towards him angrily. “Nobody lets me do anything!” 

“We’re simply trying to protect you, Daph. It’s safer inside the walls.” Cadmus reaches a hand out towards her shoulder but she shoves it away. 

“I’d rather die than spend another day trapped in this drafty old castle.” Daphne crosses her arms and looks at him defiantly. It’s the same facial expression Cadmus wears when he’s pouting and while he thinks she’s being a bit dramatic, he understands the sentiment.

Cadmus sighs, unsure how to console her. “One day when you’re the Comtess or when you’ve married some handsome duke you’ll be able to see the world, but for now it’s safest for you here. You just have to be patient.” 

“Now you sound like father. I thought you were on my side.” Daphne frowns and he notices a sudden mist of tears cloud her blue eyes.

It’s gone from a casual conversation to actual emotions, and though this is his little sister, the person he’s closest too in the world, Cadmus still has no idea how to handle tears. She watches him for a moment as a tear runs down her cheek and then turns away, hiding her face from him. He doesn’t know what to do but he doesn’t want her to hide things like he does, he doesn’t think he even has the ability to cry at this point.

“Daph,” Cadmus hesitates, then pulls her into a hug. She buries her head in his shoulder and though she’s silent, he can feel her shoulders shaking and the sleeve of his coat getting wet. 

“Come back, please,” Daphne pleads, her voice muffled against his coat.“You have to come back. Don’t leave me here.” 

Cadmus sighs, understanding her outburst more clearly now. It isn’t just being cooped up inside that’s bothering her, it’s him leaving. She doesn’t know exactly what he does when he’s gone on missions, but she knows it’s dangerous. He’s come back injured before, been left bed-ridden or worse for days, but she doesn’t know how close he’s been to dying.

“Don’t I always come back?” Cadmus says, trying to be comforting. Daphne pushes back from his shoulder to look at him, her eyes red from crying. 

“But what if you don’t,” She sniffles.

“I will, Daphne, I promise.” Cadmus doesn’t like to make promises he doesn’t know he can keep, but he’s always come back before. 

“I just know Alastor will be a terror while you’re gone.” She frowns, angrily wiping away tears. 

“He’s always a terror. Just threaten him with one of your embroidery needles, that’ll scare him off,” Cadmus jokes. Daphne gives him a hint of a smile and pulls back from the hug, reaching into her pocket to pull out a needle. 

“En garde!” She says, brandishing the needle forward towards Cadmus. He lets her tap his arm with the needle and then dramatically puts his hand to his heart. “Oh no! You got me!” He fake swoons, falling to the floor in a heap as Daphne bursts into laughter. After a moment she holds out her hand to help him up and Cadmus pulls her down instead, causing her to burst into giggles again. When they both calm down Daphne sits up, leaning against the wall as she looks at Cadmus.

“If you don’t come back I’ll track you down and kill you myself.” She looks at him very gravely, and though the words are humorous, he doesn’t doubt she’d try.

“You sound more like a Durand every day,” Cadmus laughs.

“And bring me back a present,” She says imperiously, with the tone of someone who has never been denied anything in her life. Which is pretty much the truth.

“Yep, definitely a Durand.” Cadmus reaches out to ruffle her hair and she pulls away with an annoyed noise. “I’ll bring you back a flower.” 

It’s tradition that he always brings her something new for her botanical journal. He picks the prettiest flower he can find on his journey, whichever flower he thinks she’d like the best. Daphne catalogues the pressed flowers in her journal. and each entry is complete with a drawing and a label. Sometimes he brings her duplicates on accident, but she’s always just as pleased. 

He gives her one last hug goodbye and then he’s off to find Agatha who is probably busy hunting mice. By the time his familiar’s been located the sun has begun to set and it’s time to leave. As he’s saddling his horse he looks up at the castle one last time. Silhouetted in the late afternoon light is his mother, standing in the window of the tallest tower.

Her private library and workshop are up there, it’s where he used to take magic lessons before she decided he was useless at it. He’s not allowed up there anymore, not that he minds. The tower also serves as a torture chamber for enemies unlucky enough to be brought in alive. Or for Durand sons who misbehave.

Cadmus turns away from the tower and his mother’s keen eyes and gets on his horse. There’s no use thinking about the past when he’s got the present to focus on.

—————————–

It’s a two day ride to Greythal through some of the ugliest landscape Cadmus has ever seen.

He likes the ocean views of Avronne, the way the cliff sides are both beautiful and deadly, covered in plants and trees which cling to life along their edges. The road to Greythal is all pasture and cows and manure. The city itself is on the coast, but the road there is anything but a trip to the seaside.

It rains the entire night, and when Cadmus stops to rest the next morning he’s thoroughly drenched and grateful for the weak sunlight coming through the clouds. He sleeps fitfully beneath a tree, his instincts on edge in case he’s seen from the road. He wishes he had someone here to take watch shifts, but working alone is safer. He’ll take sleep deprivation over a knife in the back from a traitorous partner.

Cadmus isn’t entirely alone at least. His horse Alecto is very dependable, and although Cadmus wouldn’t admit it- she’s a very good listener as well. He talks to her, and Agatha, as he rides. He tells them about the landscape, about his family, about how he sometimes wishes he could simply relax. Animals are good confidants, they can’t tell his secrets to anyone nor can they try to give him advice or lecture him like another person would. 

The trip passes quickly, the landscape blurring together from rain and boredom. When he reaches the outskirts of Greythal on the morning of the party he stops to disguise himself and his horse, enchanting his hair brunette and his white horse spotted brown. He doesn’t intend to be seen by anyone, but it's a necessary precaution. He rides as close as he can get to the castle then continues on foot.

Cadmus surveys the area, looking for a path through the woods so he can avoid the road when he makes his escape later. He finds a well worn path in the dirt and commits the spot to memory. When he returns to his horse he finds Agatha coiling around Alecto’s neck. The horse doesn’t seem to mind the fact that a very deadly snake is in close proximity, Agatha poses no threat unless Cadmus instructs her to bite. 

She’s his best tool of the trade, stealthier than he is despite her large size, and deadlier too. One bite from Agatha, or one drop of her venom which Cadmus keeps in a vial, can kill a person in under 15 minutes. He’s built up a tolerance to various poisons over the course of his training, hardly anything can kill him but a blade alone, yet Agatha’s poison would be too strong even for him.

Normally he doesn’t bring her along on his assignments. She’s nearly twelve feet long and isn’t exactly the easiest to travel with, but he’d had a gut feeling to bring her this time- and he always trusts his instincts. 

Right now his instincts are telling him to run a perimeter around the castle to see what he’s dealing with. So he does just that, creeping through the underbrush of the woods until he reaches the low stone wall surrounding the castle on the hill. It’s an imposing building, larger than his family's castle. Greythal is a wealthy kingdom while Avronne is a smaller, if more powerful, city state. 

Avronne is small but mighty, the seat of a power that reaches far beyond the city walls- that’s what the Comte says at least.

Agatha scouts ahead of him, her movements silent despite the loose brush she slithers through. If something is amiss she’ll alert him. Cadmus keeps his eyes turned towards the castle, watching for the movement of guards. He rounds east towards the back of the castle where he’ll find the princess’ window. Sure enough, a blackthorn tree sits beneath an illuminated window as Xiphos had said it would. 

Cadmus takes in the vines which cling to the stone walls, likely strong enough to help him climb up. He tries to calculate how quickly he thinks he can climb it, his guess is around a minute, maybe less if he can get good footholds.

He considers hopping over the stone wall to enter the grounds for a better look when Agatha hisses at him in alarm. He instantly looks up, seeing a small figure he hadn't noticed waving at him. The figure stands from the bench they’d been sitting on beneath the tree and approaches his spot behind the wall, he’s been spotted. 

“Fuck. Agatha, hide.” He uses the blade of his sword to inspect his reflection, satisfied that he doesn’t look like himself. Agatha slithers into the underbrush, close enough to defend Cadmus if need be. He considers running, but that would be even more suspicious, and as the figure approaches it’s clear that this is a child. He draws his dagger all the same, just in case.

“Who are you?” Calls the child, a young girl around his sister’s age. He takes in her clothing- expensive, perfectly clean, she must be a noble then. Cadmus doesn’t respond, waiting for the girl to explain herself instead. “Are you here for my birthday party?”

It’s then that he realizes the crown on her head, this is the princess. 

He really should run. Instead he stays, stuck to the spot as he takes in the information that he’s been sent here to kill a child. That’s new for him. He’d known she was young- but this girl can’t be older than sixteen. 

“My mother said there are lots of guests coming, are you a guest?” The princess asks. She’s blonde, and Cadmus has to blink hard to rid himself of the image of Daphne. She’s so trusting, so naive, so stupid to approach a stranger with no guards around to protect her.

Cadmus should kill her now while she’s all alone and he has the chance. He can kill her painlessly, so quickly that she’ll barely even feel it. 

Instead he asks, “What’s your name?” 

“You don’t know who I am?” She laughs, taking a step closer to the stone wall that separates them. Cadmus grips his weapon more tightly, but he still can’t make his hand move. “My name is Melia. What’s yours?”

He opens his mouth as if to answer but his body finally catches up to his brain. Cadmus runs. He doesn’t stop until he’s deep in the woods and as far from the girl as he can get. 

He certainly hadn’t planned for this.

Like Mothers, Like Daughter

A/N: You have no idea how nervous I am right now, but I said I’ll post the first part, so I’m keeping my word, even though I feel like it’s not good enough. It has been rewritten at least 10 times and this is only some kind of introduction. For now it’s just my precious little Ellie. There’s no Mildred and no Wilhemina yet. But they’ll appear soon, I promise. Just bear with me, please 🙏🏼 Many thanks to @awildgothappeared​!!! Thank you so much for helping me with this series and thank you for convincing me to post this part!!! I’d probably never decide to do it if it hadn’t been for you Stevie <3  This story truly means a lot to me and all three of them - Ellie, Millie and Mina have a special place in my heart. They’re my new holy trinity. I put a lot of effort into this story - that’s why it’s taking me so long. 

Anyways, I hope you will all enjoy it!!! And just in case, I am sorry if this is shit, cause I actually sort of feel like it is 🙈 Also if anyone has any thoughts/suggestions/opinions do let me know!

Words count: ~3k

Tag list: @midnight-lestrange​, @natasha-danvers​, @stopkillinglilyrabe​, @welshdragonrawr​, @saucy-sapphic​, @yang12e​, @xixxiixx​, @pradababey​

Seemingly nothing had changed. Life was going on as it used to before, its usual way. Some governess would wake Ellie up at 7am, it wouldn’t be the same one who was there the previous evening. No, because for some reason the former one wasn’t suitable for the position. None of them were, because it was truly impossible to measure up to Mrs Staple’s expectations. Ellie knew, because she had been trying to ever since she had learned to speak. It didn’t matter how many languages she mastered or how good her grades were or that she became a champion of the fencing team. The woman, she was supposed to call her mother, would never be satisfied, the same as she would never be happy with the work all those governesses did. Some of them were fired, because they truly were useless, others were just unlucky and had a horrible timing - it really was an unpleasant experience to get in a way of annoyed Mrs Staple‒

Ellie stopped getting attached to them a long time ago. Not that she actually had a chance to. In fact, she didn’t even bother to remember their names any more and decided to give them numbers instead. Though sometimes, she did wonder where they find all of them. How many well-qualified governesses could be there in town? Where did they all come from?

That morning, the governess was bearing a name “241”. Quite impressive. Ellie thought as she was brushing her teeth. But it wouldn't last for too long. Perhaps it was only until the evening or maybe afternoon - depending on Lillian’s mood. And then the poor woman would have to leave, quicker than she appeared, just like 240 other women before her. That's how it worked with her mother. The demonic, callous woman really knew no limits.

Ellie was barely twelve, yet she was well aware what motives drove her mother's behavior. Each action had a perfectly explainable reason. The desire for power, the need of being in control. Though, the truth was, Lillian wasn't in a place to be a decision making one. She had never actually had a say and she knew, for a fact, that she would never have. She wasn't even close to it. She wasn't Staple, not by blood. And yet, despite this, she always introduced herself using her husband's family name - being boastful and vain as ever, nearly driving her only child apoplectic each time.

Lillian wanted to matter so badly, even if just for a moment, but still her actions, words, commands meant less than nothing. Even Ellie, though still a child, had more power than the cruel woman. And that's why Lillian hated her. She hated her only daughter, because Ellie was born Staple, she was born to the purple and carried an incredible power within her small body–

And all that appeared to be a good enough reason to terrorize 240 babysitters, who would not be needed at all if Lillian could just bring herself to care about her only child in the first place. But she couldn't and she didn't. She never wanted to have children, definitely not a girl. Maybe a son. Maybe–

If Ellie was a boy… maybe she'd be able to care, to love her child. But even then it wouldn't be the unconditional type of love. It would be yet another transaction, the tying agreement, which would, of course, be in her interest. Just like her marriage and all the relations within the family. But Ellie wasn't a boy and she didn't matter as much as a male successor would and so Lillian didn't care. She did what was expected of her, she gave birth to the next successor, and that was it. All she was willing to do and there was no way she'd put any more effort into it. She gave her husband what he wanted and was the least bit interested in her child's future. Lillian was too selfish to care, too busy fighting for her own position to even think about Elizabeth.

Ellie's father always told her that everyone had a little bit of the light and dark in them. People were complex like a cosmic system, both inside and outside. She liked that comparison.

"None of us are just black or white, or always right and never wrong. We have a universe within ourselves. We all have a little bit of the sun and moon inside. Everyone has good and bad forces working with them, within them and against them"

She believed it, but as much as she tried - she couldn't find any kind of light within her mother. There was nothing, just coldness and hatred - guiding her through life, leaving her blind to everything, but her selfish needs and whims.

"Elizabeth," her teacher's voice would bring her back to reality. And the day would carry on, as usual.

Ellie would participate in her classes and then have lunch downstairs. She would eat alone, as her father would be still at work and Lillian wouldn’t even bother to join the girl, preferring her own company over watching her little defeater, a perfect copy of her husband. Or maybe if they were lucky enough, the governess would keep her company. Though even if she would, even if somehow lady “241” would manage to keep her position and call it a day - Ellie probably wouldn’t decide to talk to her anyways. Why would she, knowing that the woman would soon disappear from her life forever?

But Ellie didn’t mind being on her own at all. She already got used to it. She had been a homeschooler since… always. She had been under lock and key her whole life, because that was their way of keeping her safe. That’s what they told her at least and she accepted it. That was the only way of living Ellie knew and she completely settled into it. She didn't ask, she didn't question their motives. She let it be, because there was nothing she could do. She didn't want to do anything.

She liked her life, well, she thought so leastways. She had nothing to complain about. She was safe, warm, had her books and her piano. Her teacher, constantly-changing governesses and servants provided some kind of company - preventing her from loosening her grip on reality completely. Her life wasn’t all that bad. Yes. It could have been worse after all. And homeschooling wasn’t the end of the world, right? It had both positive and negative sides, as everything - just like her father said. And that’s what Ellie was focused on.

After lunch her lessons would continue. The teacher would ask about some mathematical equations and she would solve all of them, before unerringly answering all subsequent questions. Ellie was a clever child and a fast learner. She was also stubborn and aimed at mastering whatever she wanted to perfection. She had to be good enough, she had to measure up, prove herself. And she was doing her best, steadfastly.

Everyone was foretelling her a bright future. She could do anything she wanted, those who didn’t know certain things were convinced of it. And those who knew the truth, the reality, the true meaning hidden behind the Staple’s name and the family roots - remained silent. Ellie was only a child after all, besides no one wanted to have a problem with her father, or even worse - with her grandfather. But they didn’t need to talk about it. Ellie, as a highly intelligent girl that she undoubtedly was, knew. She knew her future was doomed, because she was a prisoner, just like her father and grandfather, even her mother and the rest of the family. They were all prisoners, shackled with invisible cuffs - the life-long deal their ancestors had made ages before. They were prisoners to the nonreversible decision.

It may seem quite dramatic, sad even to some people, but they didn’t understand it. They never cared enough to comprehend the deep meaning behind the family’s actions, perhaps too ignorant or narrow-minded to decipher it. But they didn’t matter. Their opinions were irrelevant. 

Ellie never had a problem with that. She never truly allowed herself to think about the future, but she didn’t need to worry, not just yet. She had her father - her guardian and friend - who was there to keep her safe. He always knew how to make everything better. How to fix what appeared to be unfixable. And he was there at all times. He was there to hold his little girl, the apple of his eye. He was there to teach her and guide her. To grant Ellie the love and approval she couldn’t receive from Lillian. He was there, so that she could have a happy and peaceful childhood. And all that made Ellie feel lucky. Not all kids had what she did. Not all children were able to experience this kind of love. She knew. Elias told her about those children - left on their own, without anyone who would look after them, or love them the way he loved her. Whenever she remembered all those stories something inside her hurt. Her heart - it ached, every time Elias was telling her about that one little girl.

Ellie undeniably was compassionate and sensitive, her soul was still pure and free, untainted. She didn’t have to bear the burden of her decision, she didn’t have to carry it on her own like her father. That’s why she couldn’t understand his breaking down. She couldn’t figure out the reason for his tears, when she gave him one of her teddy bears, saying he should give it to the little girl. Ellie couldn’t know. Not back then.

And then, when her lessons were over, their butler - Leonard would take her to the fencing classes. That was the only time Ellie was out, freed from the thin walls of the castle they lived in. She always cherished every second of it, because every moment of freedom was like an incredible adventure.

She had been training for years, because fencing made her stronger and showed a certain set of thinking skills. The classes would go great, as always. Ellie as a wonderful fencer would win some clash, but she wouldn't even think about it, already engulfed by anticipation of the evening.

Ellie’s favourite part of the day was dinner. No, not the dinner itself - the whole process of it. The anticipation and preparations. Their servants would be preparing everything, putting a lot of effort into details, so as to avoid getting in trouble with Lillian. She was fabled for her choleric nature and no one wanted to be reprimanded. That's why they always did their best, striving to meet Lillian's expectations and avoid unhinging her.

The table had to be polished until it gleamed. Table covers had to be clean and smoothed. Dinnerware and cutlery had to be polished to a high gloss. And napkins… napkins had to have the right colors, because colors couldn't clash. After all those years Ellie learned the process by heart. She remembered everything, every little detail and the order of all those actions.

A plate in the middle. A napkin on the left, then forks - salad fork and dinner fork. The right side was where a dinner knife, dinner spoon and soup spoon were placed. And then glasses - a water glass and wine glass - on the right, above the spoons. It wasn't all that hard to remember. It definitely was far more complicated when it came to the formal dinner place setting, but when it was just the three of them - Ellie and her parents - the servants didn't have to worry about it. Informal setting was enough, unless Lillian decided differently.

By the time the table was set, Ellie would be fully in on her anticipation mood. After all it wasn't about the dinner or setting the table, it was about her father finally coming back home. Elizabeth would wait impatiently - pulled up to comfortably sit on the windowsill of the living room window. She did it every evening. Awaiting her father's car to turn into the driveway. Waiting for him to cross the doorstep and take her into his arms as he always did. She anticipated having dinner with him and then spending hours on talking and listening to his stories.

Ellie waited. One hour passed. Then another. Lillian gave up and ordered someone to bring her dinner upstairs, as she wasn't going to eat with Ellie even under those circumstances. They complied, Lillian got her dinner and finished it, while Ellie kept waiting, not moving from her spot even for a second, so as not to miss the moment of Elias' arrival. She waited, but he didn't come back. She fell asleep eventually and Leonard carefully carried her to her room. His heart was breaking for the girl, because he knew exactly what was happening. He already knew what Ellie didn't or maybe she did. She did, perhaps, but refused to accept it…

She kept waiting. For hours, days, a week. Whenever she heard some car, she would rush to the window, hoping it was Elias. Ellie found it hard to focus on anything else. She barely ate and sleep, she just passed out from exhaustion basically every evening. Each time Leonard would take her upstairs and tuck her in bed. Though in the morning she'd be back downstairs, most likely wearing one of her father's hats or shirts - almost three times too big for her- but it didn't matter. She didn't care. If she could, she'd most likely not only wear his clothes, but also spend every minute of the day in her spot on the windowsill.

Where did he go? Why didn't he come back? Every part of her aching heart couldn't accept it. She needed him… who would protect her now? Who would be there for her? Where did he think he's going and why couldn't he take her with him? He always did. They always did everything together. And then he was gone, just like that–

Honestly, she knew he wouldn't come back. She knew, but she didn't want to let go, not yet. She wasn't ready to do it.

And it was okay. Ellie could say it by the way their servants looked at her - so sympathetically. They hurt too. Perhaps not as much as she did, but they did in their own way. The only person who seemed to remain untouched was Lillian.

Even then, all she could think of was herself. She didn't display any kind of emotions. She wasn't sad or hurt and she didn't even try to pretend that she was.

"Will you finally pull yourself together?" Lillian growled, sipping on her drink, not even looking at Ellie "He won't come back. Ever."

Ellie frowned a little. There were a lot of things she could tell her mother, a lot of mean and hateful things. Though it didn't feel okay. It didn't feel like her, so she didn't. She held it all back, responding with simple "Why do you have to be like that?"

"Like what?" Lillian asked, looking at her manicured nails, acting the least bit interested in what her daughter actually had to say.

"Why can't you at least pretend that you care?"

"Don't be pathetic, Elizabeth."

Ellie sighed. There was no point in continuing the conversation. She wasn't pathetic. It wasn't pathetic. Feeling was a human thing, right?

A few days later a tall man dressed in black suit brought Elias' stuff from his clinic. They packed it all in a box. Over 20 years of his research, his work, his life - were enclosed in just one box. Leonard carried it to Elias' office and Ellie followed. She needed answers that no one wanted to give her, so she hoped she'd actually find something in the box. And she did. Her father left her a note–

Seemingly nothing had changed. Her body was still susceptible to pain, still breakable. It had to eat and breathe air and sleep. It still shuddered, as it had shuddered before. She still had to learn and she did, as she had done before. Life was going on, its usual way. Nothing changed - and yet everything was different. People, manners, course of boundaries. And amid it all her soul traipsed elusively. It disappeared, then came back, drew nearer and moved away from reality. She hurt, she cried. Feeling like an alien - at times certain, at others uncertain of her own existence. Trapped in her own grief and pain.

Ellie had been raised in a box - her father's castle, a perfect world he created just for her. But life was more than that. Life was different and not at all perfect. In truth it seemed to be far more unfriendly and sinister than she may have expected. She found herself lost in the new reality. The reality without her father. The world she knew had been shattered, completely destroyed. And learning to live all over again wasn't all that easy, but she was strong. Elias taught her how to be strong and she knew she could face all the obstacles. She had to - for him.

She was born into this goddamn family and that was the only thing she couldn't change. Though all the rest, everything else depended on her. He hadn't taught her all the things she knew without a reason…

"In life there are only two permanent things - happiness and existential pain. Life likes to gratify and hurt. It's a venom that heals and a rose that pricks. At times it's pretty good, although sometimes it's quite bad. And future matters are unforeseeable���" Elias' note said.

And so despite the pain she still believed there was more good than bad in life. She just had to look hard enough - like her father said.

Don’t be afraid of the dark

Genre | Supernatural AU, Witch/Warlock AU, slight angst, slight fluff

Pairing | platonic Min Yoongi | Kim Namjoon

Summary | The Empyrean Academy for gifted young men finally opens its doors after the tragic accident of 85. A new coven is formed as six new warlocks now call the academy home. But as one gifted individual finds out, someone already resides in this great house. But after 35 years, is this his home, or his prison?

Warnings | Mentions of death, brief descriptions of violence, brief descriptions of gore and wounds, descriptions of occult stuff? Implied member x member

Authors Note | Im SSSSOO glad to finally be writing something! Ive been in such a rut with creativity but Im so glad to get this out! This is my first member x member fic Ive written please be gentle! This reads a lot from Namjoons side of things but does switch to Yoongi more throughout!!

The Empyrean Academy, once the home of a great and powerful coven, now stood frozen and abandoned. The magical enchantments on the place made it as though no time had passed since it closed its doors. The rooms, still immaculate and not a speck of dust anywhere. The light still shone through the transparent white curtains and the dark wood flooring still looked freshly polished. Indeed it was as though no one ever left. But sadly, this was not the case. The once great house closed its doors back in 1985, 35 years to the day. The enchantments in place were powerful to say the least, no pesky squatters could enter, nor robbers nor locksmith could find their way inside. But while no one can enter, nor can anyone leave. And for one soul, this is a gift as well as a curse. Only with the emergence of a new coven would the academy open its doors again. But is our friend ready and willing to share the only home he’s known since afterlife…

12,146, twelve thousand. one hundred. and sixty two days…to the day… how time flies when you have no need to keep note of it anymore. A hand gently brushes the ivory keys of the grand piano situated in the portrait room. He contemplates the melodies his hands remember, anything to block out the unbearable silence. 

Min Yoongi sat on the bench, his eyes dully reading over the sheet music, each one a beautiful melody, but overplayed. He only had himself to blame, spending so much time at that damned piano has left him growing bored of one of the few things he took joy in during his life. But 35 years has started to chip away at him, making him unable to think of a melody to key. It was always the same, he would wander through the house, he would read the books, he would light the candles, play the piano, and every single day since he died, he would repeat the now tedious activities. He never felt hungry, he never grew tired. But everyday would end up the same.

No one knows what happens to you when you die, no one in this big blue world knows what awaits you on the other side, and had Yoongi known what awaited him, he never would have gotten involved that day. He never would have tried to intervene. 

That’s what he likes to tell himself, he tells himself that he should have let them blow themselves up, let them be stuck here for decades with no one but themselves. But he knows he could have never stood by while someone else was in harm’s way, that is not the way of the coven, in this house, we protect our own. He knew in whatever scenario, he would be there trying to stop things escalating to a shit show like before. His mother had always said he was too nice. Even if his face didn’t always register his kindness. 

He missed her. His mother, god only knows how she reacted to the news of his death. He missed talking to her over the phone about classes and what he had been learning, he missed her letters,the swirl of her handwriting telling him how much she misses her boy, the way the pages would smell like her perfume, reminding him of her. The letters he still had were so old now, the scent had dissipated and he now only remembered it in his memory, ivory soap and lily of the valley. It’s a scent that reminds him of home. A home he can never go back to. This place was his home now. His tomb. The dorm room he once shared with friends now is a place for him to wallow in his memories as he watches the days turn to night, a cycle that repeats itself in his endless eternity.

The day Kim Namjoon found out about his gifts, he had accidentally set the curtains of his family home on fire. He had been terrified of what had happened, unable to explain it. It wasn’t until his mother sat him down and revealed her family secret, the gift of the craft that had skipped her generation, he finally understood. It was odd to say the least, he still didn’t fully believe that he was a descendant of a powerful witch, and he had manifested one of many gifts their line was known for having. It wasn’t until his mother explained that she had made a call to an old friend, and he would be going to a private academy to learn how to control his powers that it all became real. He didn’t know how to feel, on one hand, he would be leaving his whole life behind, but he would be learning how to harness his powers to control them, and hopefully not set fire to anything anymore. He just hoped the people there were willing to help him. And he prayed there was at least a lunch lady, curtains weren’t the only thing he’s accidentally set on fire…

The trip down to Peninsula Bay was long, 5 hours in a crowded bus with no stops, his legs were numb and his back arched slightly. It wasn’t all bad however, the man escorting him had introduced him to two students who would be joining him in his schooling. One was a young man, younger than himself, named Jeon Jungkook, he was welcoming, he had a nice smile that set Namjoon at ease ever so slightly, The boy was dressed in all black and had combat boots that could crush your windpipe, a complete 180 from his personality.  The other young man, his name was Jung Hoseok, his smile was even bigger than Jungkooks, eyes crinkled with how wide he smiled. He was a ball of energy, his blonde hair like the sun and his clothes were all bright summery tones and double denim, not what you would expect a warlock to dress in, but then again, Namjoons shirt had flowers on… were warlocks supposed to dress a certain way? if so, Jungkook didn’t have to worry at least.

They made their way off the bus to be greeted by their new  governess, Mrs Song, wife to the supreme warlock of this new coven, A welcoming woman but she had an aura of power that made it clear she was to be listened to. She led the three men into another car that took them up a steep hill, the sea seemed to go on forever and stretch further the more they travelled. The car arrived at the gates of a beautiful white stone mansion, The Empyrean Academy, Empyrean meaning the highest part of heaven as Namjoon recalled, no one would bother them up here, convenient given what was to be going on inside.

It had taken a while for the other student to arrive, to Namjoons surprise there were only six of them in total. The other three names he learnt were Kim Seokjin, he was the oldest of the lot,Park Jimin and  Kim Taehyung knew each other before coming to the academy, both coming from families that actively practised their craft, Namjoon could see the bond the two shared. They were led inside my Mrs Song, after reciting an enchantment that made the wind pick up, and the gates creak open on their own. The dead leaves of the autumn swept themselves from the driveway and the doors to the house unlocked themselves.  The boys were given a quick tour of the house, it was so beautiful. Namjoon could see himself sitting by the windows in the sunlight, his potential new study spot. 

It didn’t take long for the boys to each pick a room, Mrs Song had mentioned the rooms used to house up to 3 boys each back in the day, but since the numbers had dropped to 6 they could decide to share or have their own space, Namjoon found it not surprising at all that Jimin and Taehyungs rooms were next door to each other. Jungkooks room was down the hall from Jins, Hoseok had chosen the room right across from Jimins, which meant that Namjoon was left to decide between two more rooms on this wing, he made the decision for the room closest to the stairs,heading to open it. The door opened ever so slightly before it was slammed closed again. Oddly, he found himself unable to open the door, he felt as though someone was holding the handle on the other end, it wouldn’t even budge. Mrs Song had reappeared in this time and watched the small struggle unfold.

“Id pick another room Namjoon. That room has too many bad memories you see.” There was something in her eyes, something that looked almost sad. She waved her hand and the other room’s door opened for him, and then she was down the stairs and he could see her heading into a large room, her office perhaps.

Namjoon let go of the handle, he had a feeling, an odd feeling. He Felt like there was something inside that room. Something that didn’t want anyone to enter. 

Indeed there was something on the other side of the door, and he didn’t at all feel like sharing his room. Not with all his things being still here, the last thing he wants is some nosy new student rifling through his belongings. Yoongi may have lost his powers of the craft when he died, but being a spirit bound to the house you died in gave you some abilities, abilities he would put to use. He’s been here 37 years, now he finally had some company, but when you’ve been alone for so long, new arrivals can be jarring. He would hide out in his room for now, sure they couldn’t see him unless he wanted them too, but he would scope them out when he was ready.

The boys had settled nicely into the academy in the weeks that passed. Namjoon had found himself becoming fast friends with the whole group, he grew close with them all, Jin he was particularly fond of, Namjoon swears to himself it’s not just because Jin can cook, but it is a heavy factor for him. 

The boys each had their own special talents, Jin was gifted in a herbology, gifted with botanical magic, he would often be seen in the greenhouse or the kitchen cooking up all sorts of smelly things.. Jungkook, the youngest of the group, was developing his gifts of divination and clairvoyance, he could read objects and people enough to know something about w said person. He was also interested in the world of spirit contacting, liking to read tarot cards and scoping out the veil. Hoseok and Jimin seemed to share the most gifts with each other, their favourite pastime was seeing who could levitate the most stuff, a lot of broken or smashed things to the bemusement of Mrs Song and Taehyung, who would spend this time sharpening his transmutation powers, Taehyung would always catch the others by surprise by flitting from one room to another, many times he’s heard Jin cry out in surprise, and Jimin and Jungkook laughing hysterically.

Namjoon had also started developing his powers, his pyrokinesis had come a long way in just a few weeks, no more setting curtains afire. He had learnt enough control over his fire powers to understand his power surges were brought on by stress and anger. Namjoon could understand why, at the time of the curtain accident he was under a lot of academic stress with college entry exams. Just as well he set them on fire, in truth, he’s never felt more at home. The others were his home away from home. 

But with all this comfort Namjoon felt, his mind couldn’t help but go back to the locked room. Jungkook had asked him one night if he felt anything weird about that room. He looked like he knew something but if he did, he was keeping it quiet for now. Namjoon had explored quotes around the house during his stay, he had found a door in the wall in the living room,and stumbled upon the portrait room in the east wing. The walls were decorated with portraits of all the former supreme warlocks, but there was one he found out of place. It was smaller than the others, and instead of being hung on the walls, it was framed and sat upon the grand piano. 

The portrait was of a young man no younger than him, his hair was neat, while his uniform was black and pristine looking, it looked dated. Namjoon looked at the plaque below and read the name Min Yoongi - 1958 - 1985. Twenty seven when he died. This was an old photo, but then Namjoon had thought. 1985. This was the year the academy shut its doors right? Was this man connected with it somehow? Namjoon had so many questions about the academy, it was in his nature to be curious.

Yoongi had eventually come out of his room, shifting from one room to the next, he had observed each of the new students, and so far he didn’t see anything that would cause him to be weary. He would often watch the group during their lessons, following along with what Mrs Song was teaching them, he was surprised to see the curriculum had changed. No more dark magic history lessons it would seem. 

`Good. Maybe things will turn out differently for this coven.` He couldn’t help but think. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but the boys were growing on him. He often had a chuckle to himself overhearing their conversations or observing their antics. But there were two of the men he wasn’t sure of. The first was the youngest one, he learned his name was Jungkook, he found himself tiptoeing around this kid. 

Yes this `kid` was 22, but had yoongi lived, he would be 62, everyone of these guys were `kids` or `Young men` in his eyes. 

Jungkook always seemed to get off feelings whenever Yoongi had appeared around him, obviously he couldn’t see him. But it seemed this warlock had an affinity for sensing when spirits were near, even if he didn’t fully understand the depth his powers yet, Yoongi would catch The kid looking up to where Yoongi situated himself, with a gaze so intense that Yoongi often wondered if he could in fact see him, but he knew he couldn’t if he didn’t want the kid to. 

The second was the blonde that tried to get into his room the first day, Namjoon. He had observed this one the most. He was a curious one. He had spent a lot of time in the library, studying anything and everything. Yoongi had to stop himself playing tricks on the man by making books slide off the shelf, most of these books are older than the house and he wouldn’t risk damaging such an old relic.

He found himself hovering around Namjoon more than the others. It was interesting to see the man looking into the house, most students just focused on their powers. But Namjoon went searching all over the house for all its hidden mysteries, He could relate, he remembered the hidden room in the back of the greenhouse he stumbled upon with his roommates back in the day, there was nothing in it. But the thought of more hidden spaces in the house made Yoongi shiver. The thought of unlocking hidden places excited him.

He had followed Namjoon into the portrait room, he would spend so many hours in here playing the piano, his own portrait staring at him. He watched Namjoon observe his portrait, a curious look on his face, his thumb brushing the name plaque gingerly. 

Yoongi didn’t know what compelled him, he felt himself materialising before he could reason with himself not to be an idiot.

`Not my best look, but they got my face in a good light at least`

He never saw someone jump up so quickly.

`JESUS, w-what`

`what, you never seen a ghost before…` Yoongi felt like an idiot, he hadn’t spoken to anyone in 35 years, his tone wasn’t exactly welcoming.

`a-a ghost, wait, your, your, your a`

`Dead guy? yeah…

There was a long silence, Yoongi could practically hear Namjoons heart beating out of his chest. What the hell should he say now…

`so, you were a student here back in 1985?`

`Yeah, me and twenty other students, it was so different back then, I’ve told you this already.`

`I know, I’m just thinking, your pretty old now, you must think its all new to you, the laptops, phones… we don’t ride broomsticks anymore haha`

Yoongi gave a deadpanned look to the man laying on the bed besides him, the hint of a smirk evident on his lips. In the past week he and Namjoon have spoken a number of times with each other. It was nice to talk to someone again. He honestly thought Namjoon would run a mile after seeing him, but as surprising as it was, he remained with him. Namjoon had calmed himself, figuring that, if witches and warlocks were real, why not ghosts. That’s what Yoongi liked about talking with Namjoon, he liked that he was openly curious about things. Namjoon would listen to Yoongi talk for hours about his life way back when, and Yoongi craved all the attention he was getting from the man after decades of solitude. 

He hadn’t revealed himself to the other students yet, he wouldn’t admit it to himself, but he just wanted to sit with Namjoon, he did other things to give the others a hint he was there, he would open doors for the others when they had their hands full of books, or he would leave relevant books on the tables in the library whenever they needed to research something important. Of course none had caught on yet, thinking it was one of the other students, but Namjoon had mentioned that Jungkook often stared at him with an off look in his eye, not bad nor good, it was like he knew, but didn’t elude to anything. Given his abilities, Yoongi wouldn’t be surprised. 

Namjoon didn’t jump at telling anyone yet either, he knew that Yoongi had been alone for years, and while he had told Namjoon his story, he had kept some things hidden, his death was something Namjoon was eager to learn about. Morbid yes, he had learnt from Mrs Song that a student had died and two others had been injured years back and the details were kept secret, but there whispers that dark magic was surrounding the young man’s mysterious death. Namjoon had pieced together that Yoongi was the Man in question, and when he questioned Yoongi about what happened, Yoongi had clammed up, nervous almost. 

`It’s not something you need to know about, drop it please?` 

Namjoon had not brought it up again, it clearly upset Yoongi and he didn’t want that. He wanted Yoongi to know he can trust him. He let Namjoon into his room, eventually. The others had gone out for a trip into the town down the cliff, a chance to get out for a while. Namjoon decided to stay behind, wanting to catch up on his reading, that’s what he said. In truth, he just didn’t want to leave Yoongi inside the house alone, he’d been alone enough. Namjoon had wandered through the house searching for the ghost, and when he didn’t find him in his usual haunts, he had thought of the one place he hadn’t checked. 

He was hesitant to knock on the door, he knew Yoongi now only shut himself in his room when he was particularly down and didn’t want to be bothered. He rapped softly on the door, his voice finally coming to him.

 `Yoongi, are you alright?` 

Nothing. No answer.

`I just want to know your alright… If you don’t want to talk that’s fine…`

He waited a couple of seconds, before deciding to leave him alone, when the handle clicked, and the door slowly creaked open. Namjoon hesitated before stepping over the threshold. He didn’t know what he expected, but the room was almost like his own, the curtains were still immaculately white, the bookcase and desk were riddled with all kinds of books, the beds were perfectly made and the clothes in the closet were neatly folded. Namjoon also noted the other furniture in the room, two empty beds, two empty closets. 

He approached Yoongi, who was sitting on the window ledge looking out of the window that overlooked the sea, in his hands was a photo frame. Namjoon sat by his feet, Yoongi looked deep in his own thoughts that Namjoon thought he didn’t notice him, but he let him into the room.

He didn’t speak, he waited for Yoongi to open up to him, he let him in for a reason, he just knew it.

` Do you ever think about what would have happened if you decided something different.`

`sometimes`

`I find myself thinking more and more about what would have happened in my life if things worked out differently… I would be 63 today if i was alive. I’d probably have been teaching you and the others in this coven.

His eyes didn’t leave the sea, his head pressed against the glass as Namjoon looked out to see the waves crashing on the rocks.

`Yoongi, you’ve never told me. You know, how you died. I know you don’t like talking about it, but it’s pretty obvious it was what you were thinking about…`

Yoongi’s eyes downcast to the photo in his hands, and then to Namjoon. He held out the photo frame for Namjoon to take, He saw the photograph, it was Yoongi, and two other young men at a bar, they looked happy, these must have been his roommates.

`they were my best friends, we all came to the academy together.`

`Are they, were they involved?`

`yes, and no… it was, something else.

`something, else?`

Yoongi sighed, he sat straighter now, his legs crossed and he rubbed his face with his face. 

`It was something dark. My roommates, they had been looking at some dark stuff, black magic and conjuring spells. Our coven had been under attack back then, witch hunters.`

`witch hunters?` 

`yeah, they were nothing but persistent, no one got hurt but it was getting worse and worse by the day. They wanted to conjure a protection spell that would ward the house against the hunters. When I was alive, my gifts were a lot like your friend, Jungkooks, I had an ability to see into the veil, to see spirits and commune with them. My friends found if they could channel me and my power, they would be able to conjure a protective spirit. But I saw the books they were reading, there was no certainty that the spirit that would come through would have been a good one.`

Yoongi had gotten up by now and got a book from the shelf, he opened the book and handed it to Namjoon.

`This, this is dark stuff, where did they even get this book.`

`The coven used to teach dark magic and its history back in my day, a way to make us aware of the danger, fat lot of god it did right? I told my friends they were getting into some dark stuff but I didn’t want to leave them, if something went wrong they would need someone versed in magic of the veil to help.`

Yoongi sat down near Namjoon, their knees touching as Namjoon listened to every word with sympathy.

`what happened.`

`The spirit they conjured, it was anything but good. It attacked one of my friends, He didn’t even have time to defend himself. We tried to send it back but it kept getting more aggressive. I used my powers to look through the veil and see what it was… it was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve never felt a spirit that dark before, a black heart surrounded with occult magic… but I knew what I had to do, being versed in the veil, I knew I could send it back, but when I tried to force it through the veil, it attacked me, it let the others go, but, I guess I wasn’t lucky….`

Namjoon could see Yoongi shaking slightly, his smile was undermined by his eyes watering. Namjoon couldn’t imagine what Yoongi had seen that night, but it clearly left him fearful, even decades later. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around the shaking spirit. Yoongi takes a breath and continues.

`By the time it was forced back through the veil, that thing did enough damage to me to make me bleed out, the others tried to stop the bleeding and get help, but by the time the supreme came running in, I was already standing over my body. I knew I had died. My friends said nothing, they knew how the coven viewed dark magic and conjuring, they would have been blamed for my death, and exiled from the coven completely. They told our supreme that I conjured it.`

That was a surprise he hadn’t seen coming. Yoongi’s best friends had blamed their dead friend?! Namjoon would never meet them, and he was almost glad he never would. His blood boiled at the thought of friends betraying someone whose death they caused.

Eventually the blood was cleaned up and the room was closed up, they said my things were probably riddled with black magic, and best to shut the room up and let it be forgotten. I saved my best friends, I died for them, and they blamed their stupidity on me, that hurts you know. I just tried to keep them safe.`

Yoongi had broken down at this point, he didn’t know he could cry this much being dead, his retelling the events had caused the phantom wounds to itch, by the time the whole ghastly event was finished, his chest was ripped up, the scratches inflicted upon his arms and legs had nicked an artery, He remembered every tear of his flesh and the sticky warm liquid soaking his shirt. And when it was all over, when the supreme listened to his so called friends retelling of events, he felt his ghostly heart break. 

Namjoon didn’t say anything right away, but held Yoongi, what could he say? He had no idea Yoongi’s death would have been shrouded with deceit and betrayal. Yoongi was a gentle soul, he died protecting his friends, and they spat in his face. Namjoon held Yoongi and let him cry as much as he needed to. He ran his hand through Yoongi’s hair, a small comfort to the spirit. Night had fallen without other noticing, and Namjoon still held Yoongi, the only light in the room was the candles Namjoon had lit. In spite of his little breakdown, Yoongi now felt calm, he almost felt at peace. It was Namjoon, he was comforting. The most comfort he’s felt In years.

Some other nights

Chapter 1 for @sdavid09​ ‘s year long writing challenge. Prompt for the chapter: The answer was written in her eyes.

Story’s summary:  Follow Rionna’s and her brother's adventure across the worlds and dreams. There will be more to see than what you know of the story, and more dangers than just orcs, and wargs and Sauron.

Pairing: Dain Ironfoot x Rionna (not mentioned yet in the chapter)

Words: 2625

Warnings: Despriction’s of violence and death, blood.

Masterlist, all the chapter's can be found from here!

The forest was silent, expect for the distand screaming of what sounded like a man. But a man it was not, not anymore. A young woman was crouching next to a spruce, her brother behind her. Two other man were crouched on their left side. They all had gun's ready and eyes glued to what appeared to be an gigantic, blood red dog with multiple spike's growing on it's back. But dog it was not, never had been. It was called SCP-939 by the goverment and scientist's, and Doggo or giant dog by the rest of the people.

Or what was left of them.

An sudden movement from behind the spruce got the little group's attention, as well as it got Doggo's attention. The monster-like dog turned away from the four to the noice and growled.

"Shit!"

"Sound the alarm!"

"There's no time, fire the dimensional bomb!"

"But..."

"FIRE IT!"

As the four heard the shouting of the men, probably the soldier's of goverment, slowly and quietly they got up and started to move away from the men and Doggo. But since they couldn't walk fast or run away, they didn't get far when an explosion sounded from behind them and then the air around them started to pull towards the spruce. They all turned to see what had happened while trying to keep their ground. There, on the ground right next to the tree, was an big black hole. And the gigantic monster was being pulled to it like a magnet. And then it disappeared.

The soldier's were nowhere to be seen.

Just as the group was about to turn and continue, the girl let out an scream, when her legs gave out and she started to slide towards the hole.

"Rionna!" her brother shouted, running after her.

"Gabriel, no!" dark haired man shouted after him. But when the other didn't stop, the dark haired cursed and glanced towards the other one next to him. "C'mon" he said and then sprinted after Gabriel, the brown haired man right after him. Rionna, the younger one of the siblings, had already disappeared in the hole. Without hesitating, Gabriel dived in, after his sister.

And then the hole let out hissing like sound and closed, the air around it exploding. The two men, who were left behind, flew through the air before hitting the ground. Groaning they both sat up.

"What the hell was that thing?" the brown haired one asked, rubbing the back of his head.

"I don't know, Alek. But I suppose the Einstein's found a way to sent those shit's to another area" the older man says, then he turns to the sound of someone speaking. "We better leave, before those soldier's find us" And so the two left, not knowing what had happened to their two young friends.

  Rionna fell to the ground from the hole, and groaned. And then she saw her brother nosediving from the hole over her. She had a mere seconds to roll to the side, before he thud's to the ground. Rionna sat up and watched how Gabriel groaned and then lifted himself to sit. He looked pretty pissed.

"We're been falling for tihrty minutes" he hissed. Rionna jut uplifted her brow while rubbing her back. There was going to be bruises there, and laying down for the night would hell.

"Doggo seems to have been here too" Gabriel suddenly says. Rionna looks at him and then to ground. Indeed, big marks of the beast's paws were on the soft ground. Then Rionna frowned. There was an campfire not far from them, and what seemed to be an empty camp. The kettle over the fire let out bad smell of burned food. Quickly she counted 19 backbags. And since the campfire was up and lighting the area, it was already dark. Or early morgning, she wasn't really sure. The sky was illuminating the stars, but the sun was coloring the horizon.

"And who ever were camping here got an unpleasant surprise" she finally said grimly. Gabriel nodded and stood up. Just as he was giving his hand to Rionna to help her up, they heard screaming and seconds later shouting. Rionna jumped up and shared an look with her brother.

"We could save our ass from Doggo, but those people could be our hope of finding our way back home" she said. Gabriel stared at her for a second before he nodded. So in the woods they went, nearing the sounds of shouting and the distand light. Until someone ran right in front of them, before stopping. Rionna and Galadriel had stopped too, both having identical frown.

The person was old and was wearing grey ropes and grey, pointy hat. Slowly he turned to them and was frowning. Then he pointed at them with his wooden stick and told them to follow him. Then he turned and ran to a big bolder, without even checking whatever they were following him or not. The siblings shared an look, before they walked to the boulder, stopping next to it.

There they saw Doggo and three gigcantic monsters, two already laying on the ground, as dead as they could be. Their bodies were ripped open, blood still flooding out from the deepest cuts. The other monster was missing half of its face. And then the third creature, seemingly horrified, died, collapsing to the ground.

Just then did the old man jump down from the boulder, sword in hand and his stick pointing to Doggo. And before neither of the siblings could take the gun and point it to Doggo, the man was murming some weird mambo jambo and Doggo started to fall back, tail between it's legs. And then it turned and ran away with snarl. Rionna sighed, but was still ready grasp the gun if needed to.

Gabriel took a step from behind the boulder to the clearing and all the eyes turned to him, and to his sister who had followed him. The older man was staring at them wearily. Rionna couldn't help but stare, for these weren't the kind of people she had expected to see. She should have known it when she saw the older man. Small men, probably head smaller than she was. She couldn't really tell, since half of them were in sack's and half being barbequed on a stick over the fire. Everyone else expect one had beard and long hair.

Rionna looked up to Gabriel, who was eyeing the companion. Then she turned to look at the old man and their eyes met.

  Thorin could still feel the horror in his gut as he stared at the three now dead trolls. He didn't blame the hobbit for fainthing after first troll went down.

After the red dog-like monster had appeared from behind the boulder and attacked the first troll, and after it went down so easily, all hope had lost from Thorin and the company. For surely the wizard would not make it in time, and Thorin even suspected if the wizard could take this monster down. But the wizard had appeared there just in time to somehow drive the monster away, instead of killing it.

And then he finally let out an growl. Kíli and Balin sent worried look to their king, but before neither could say anything, a young man walked from behind the boulder.

And Thorin's eyes were glued to him. He had honey blond hair, just like Fíli's hair was, that he kept on a ponytail, well trimmed, short beard, about as long as Thorin's own. And his eyes were brown, taking in every danger there might be, untill their eyes met. Then there was the young woman and for a second Thorin tought that they were married. But it couldn't be so.

The woman had also honey blond hair that she kept open, and she was smaller than the man. Her brown, observant eyes were taking in the scene there had been mere minutes ago. She seemed shocked and surprised when she saw the trolls, even more surprised when her eyes finally stopped to the company. For a while she stared at them, before she turned to the wizard. And for a while they stared at each other, before Gandalf turned to the company.

"Well, shall we get you back on the feet" Gandalf says, instead of questioning the siblings. Thorin turns to look at Gandalf, who walks over to him, crouching down next to him and pulling the sack down.

"Those two came through a portal of sorts near the camp. But fret not, they didn't touch anything nor took anything" Gandalf murmur's to Thorin, and he frowns. They came trough a portal? But from where? For clearly they were not from this world. When the sack was down enough, Thorin turned enough so that Gandalf could cut the rope open. "I am not sure if the monster came from the same portal, but given the fact that I have never seen anything like it before, I can only assume the worst" Thorin could hear the wizard continuing.

"So they are at fault of that monster coming in this world" Thorin says bitterly, feeling a little bang in his gut. They didn't need anymore monster's in ths world, they had their hands full of with the orcs, wrags and dragons and what not.

"That I do not know" Gandalf murmur's just as the rope loosens and Thorin is free. He turns to help his younger nephew and sees how Balin's questioning eyes are on him. The old advisor had heard their conversation, and whatever he had his own questions to ask, they had to wait. They needed to release the company first.

When the rest of the dwarves and now awake Bilbo were freed, Gandalf finally took it upon himself to question the siblings, who had helped to free the ones over the fire. The dwarves didn't seem too happy about it, but since the woman - Rionna - had assured them enough many times that she didn't mean to hurt to but help them, the dwarves let them help.

"And now, who might you two be and where do you hail from?" Gandalf asks, his voice soft and eyes concerned. Thorin steps next to the wizard and Dwalin and Balin appear behind them. Thorin's eyes rise and meet the young man eyes. They were attentive and hid some of his worry. His hands were resting on his broad hip, his person being a bit relaxed yet ready to trike if danger approaced. Then it hit Thorin, this man standing next to him was an warrior, yet Thorin didn't see him carrying any weapon's with him.

"My name is Rionna and this is my older brother Gabriel..." Thorin hears the woman tell to the wizard, since he and this man - Gabriel - were having a staring contest. So, Thorin tears his eyes with all his might from Gabriel and looks at the woman. She was a head taller than him, but much shorter than her brother. "... And, well... We come from Scandinavia's United Nation. And... where exactly are we?" Thorin's eyes narrow. United Nation of what? Skandi...?

"There's no such thing in all Arda" Dwalin grumbles. Thorin and Balin throw a look to him, silently agreeing with him, while Gandalf leans a bit more to his staff.

"No, indeed there is no such kingdom in Arda, my dear fellow. Our new friends seem to come from completly different world" Gandalf says, his wise eyes studying the siblings, who in turn share a worried look.

"That bomb those soldiers were using... It must be some sort of new SCP" Gabriel says as his brows knit together. Thorin's mouth opens a little and he feels confused. Never had he heard these weird words. But then he frowns. He had to admit that they were from different world, it was the truth.

"What are you talking about, laddie?" Balin asks, also seemingly confused of what Gabriel had just said. Gabriel's eyes lift to the white haired dwarf and it is Rionna, who explains the situation they had been in before being pulled in the hole on the ground. They had been hunting for food, but had instead stumbled to the dog-like monster and then the soldier's had stumbled upon them, or rather to the monster. The dimensional bomb was their new weapon they used to kill these monster, or at this case, to send them somewhere else.

"So, ye mean tae tell me that yer not the ones who sent that beast tae kill those trolls?" Dwalin asks. Gabriel snorts, as Rionna just looks at him with small, sad smile. Dwalin sends an glare to the older sibling.

"Those monster bow to no-one, takes orders from no-one. We're not their masters!" Gabriel says, deathly look on his face as he spats the words from his mouth. He talked about them with so much hatred in his voice that Dwalin almost believed him. That kind of hatred came from the heart, not from acting.

"Indeed, we're, as most of our people, been trying to kill those kind of monsters for the past 24 years. They've been terrorising our lands and other kingdom's to the point where the population has lowered to over half of what it once was" Rionna tells. Their eyes snap to her and they stare at her in shock. They had been figthing and trying to kill those things over two and half decades?!

"So, you come from different world where these kind of monster are roaming freely around you. Why don't you plea to your king and ask him to send an army to kill them off?" Gandalf asks. Rionna sighs and Gandalf turns his eyes back to her, as does Thorin, Balin and Dwalin. Thorin swallows and turns his eyes away. The answer was already there in her eyes. The hopless, disapointted look. There was no help coming from their king.

"Because, the goverment takes care of those who are seen as noble, important and have enough money to assure safety to themselves. If you are nobody, normal citizen like the two of us or the thousands and thousands of others, there's nothing the goverment and army would do. They don't care about their people, they never do" Gabriel spats out. Thorin feels his throat tightening. Not everyone were like that, he wanted to tell him.

"Uncle, we found the troll's cave!" Fíli shouts.

"Mr. Thorin, the ponies are dead!" Ori pipes right after the older prince. Thorin closes his eyes and sighs. He had better things to worry about that these two, and he would do a favor for himself if he'd just drop them out of his mind. The dog was gone, but would come back and he wanted to get his company out of here and from that creature before it would come back. And so he turned and addressed what should have been mattered to him more this whole time than attent to a meeting with the wizard and the two strange siblings.

"Fíli, Dwalin, Glóin, Bofur and Nori, we'll go to the cave. The rest of you, go back to the camp and back up. We will leave shortly" Thorin orders and turns to follow his older nephew to the troll cave. He can feel the brown eyes over his back, and when he makes the mistake and glanses over his shoulder, Gabriel's is looking after. And his words come back to him, and Thorin sighs.

"We could use a little help, especially if that monster comes back!" he announces. Gabriel and Rionna share an surprised look, while Gandalf admits aloud it to be the best thing to do. So, Gandalf and the siblings follow Thorin and the other dwarves to the troll's cave. 

Headcanon meme: (answer for whoever you can think of things for I guess) 1, 8, 11, 12, 23, 26, 29, 30, 34 :3

Okay okay okay. This got long because some of them turned into vignettes, so it’s gonna be under thecut.

1.) Love

Forsomeone who professed to be a loner, Lyra has loved so many people in her life.Her mother, first and brightest and most dearly, murdered on her way back fromher shift at the pub, the Stone Crows, her gang growing up, including her bestfriend Kora, who got scooped off the streets when some passing mage saw her set something on fire with her mind (which now strikes Lyra as ironic, consideringher current travelling companions, and her own predicament).

And then her newfound family,her Magpies. The ones that were murdered so cruelly in front of her.

Love and loss are intertwinedfor Lyra, the brilliance of lightning followed by world-shaking thunder. Whichis why she has, wholeheartedly, decided to stop caring about people. They won’tleave if she doesn’t get attached, and even if they do, well, she won’t feelanything right? Win win.

8.) DreamsIt’s not uncommon for Whisperto dream of water. Even if it wasn’t literally her element,she spent so much of her life surrounded by it; snow and rain pattering on thestone, the underground inlet, the blighted mermaid tank, that it of course itwould enter her dreams at some point.

Tonight though, tonight isdifferent. Tonight she dreams of depths, of an ocean so deep there is nogranulated sunlight to illuminate it, and even her comfort with the dark isn’tenough to make it feel less… crushing. She sees in staticky black and whitehere, feels the way the currents tug insistently at her. She has to remindherself that she can breathe.

There’s movement there, in thedepths. It takes up the whole of her vision. It’s just the suggestion of agreat thing slowly winding and unwinding, pulsing slightly as if with laboredbreath. It does not move against the current. It directs it, and it makes herown breath catch in her throat. Not with fear, but with excitement. 

When she wakes, she swears shecan still feel it, the current tugging at her, the great thing directing herforwards. The letter appears the next day, and the day after that, she isgone. 

12.) Worst Enemy

According to Az’ar, her worst enemies are the Godsthemselves.

The Gods are arbitrary and cruel things, starting and endinglife as it pleases them, for mere entertainment. They set up laws,contradictory and unforgiving, a universe full of pain and misery, and createdsentient creatures to wade through the mud and experience every bit of it.Growing up in the Shadowfell, Az’ar has witnessed it all, and grew to despisethe traditions of the Shadar’kai, the same traditions that honor Hala by tryingto protect the living things she holds so dear, especially from the unnaturalundead things she abhors, the traditions that pretend to honor Her brother bysending them back to His domain, and by dying well.

She left her people, somethingelse that was forbidden, and fought and killed far too many of them in order tocross over to the Prime Material Plane, the tear she made between worldsallowing a few of those undead monstrosities to cross with her. It was aregrettable loss, ones that she lays again at the feet of the Gods; if herpeople had not been obsessed with their supposed sacred duties, they would nothave needed to die.

Az’ar intends to wrest their claws from her chest, by making itso she can never die, and then, she will end their grip on the rest of thePlanes, even if it means killing them. She hope it does. That would be a sweetirony indeed.

23.) Romance

Orianais a romantic. Probably in the classical movement sense as well as in thehopeless romantic sense. She has this ideal of herself: knight in shiningarmor, a blazing paragon of Wahreight’s mercy and light, beating back thedarkness and protecting the innocent.

She also is kind of obsessedwith romance novels, and novels that we might consider romance novels due tothe way books are sold, but, unlike Whisper, prefers the ones that hold a highideal of love than the vulgar. Which isn’t to say she won’t read books with sexin them, only that she prefers more comedies of manners. Jehanne Augere’s Dignityand Discrimination remains her favorite novel (and she finally got a copyof her own the last time we visited Fantasy Half Price Books), and she’s morelikely to blush at the scene where the elven hero confesses his love for thevery human Elisabet. 26.) Beauty

Thecostume is… well. It’s tight. And barely there. Whisper runs her hands thelength of her torso, fingers skimming cut-outs in the shimmering golden fabricat her sides where her midnight skin provides contrast, and she lets out ashuddering breath. She doesn’t know whether its nerves or awe that’s making herstomach clench uncomfortably but… either way.

She sneaks a peak in themirror and looks away almost immediately. Salt and storm, she is glad hermother will never see her in this, or she’d be dead. Brutally and messily andall over the place.

She sneaks another look, outof the corner of her eye at first, then straight on. The leotard is almostblinding in the way the golden cloth catches the light (Ignatius’ choice, nodoubt), small black stitching and sequins giving the illusion of scales downher stomach. At her hips is this strange, diaphanous half-skirt, more like thefrills of a tiger fish than an actual garment. The neckline—if it can be calledthat— plunges far deeper than anything she’s ever worn, and she mutters a quickprayer that she won’t spill out of this thing at an inopportune moment. Or anopportune one. She is not being paid enough for that.

But the effect… She takes astep back, so she can see the whole effect, the golden ribbons wrapped aroundher horns and pinned in her hair, the ridiculous amount of eyeshadow, thestreaks of gold shimmer on her cheeks, she looks… ethereal. Magical. Shestretches one indigo hand out, and her reflection does the same, lightlymeeting her in the mirror. She watches herself smile.

“It looks beautiful on you,”comes a voice from behind her, wobbling like the owner is about to burst intotears. “You look beautiful, Whisper. Just brilliant…”

She whirls around, a scowlslotting into place. “I can’t believe he wants me to wear this, Terrance!”  

The huge man doesn’t seem tohear her, dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief. “Oh, I outdid myself. Just wait until the audience see you. You’re going to dazzle them.”

Whisper laughs under herbreath, and sneaks another look at herself. Okay. Maybe it’s not so bad afterall.

29.) Bedroom (and 11.) Best Friend).

She wasclose, she was so freaking close! If she could just figure out thethaumodynamic stabilizers and the aetheric channels and how to connect them tothe theurgic couplings, then the armor would definitely be finished beforeschool started. Her tongue peaked out of the corner of her mouth as sheconcentrated, wand on one hand, tweezers in the other, a soldering ironfloating above her, held by her mage hand. 

The workbench in front of heris littered with such tools, awl and a few other small sharp blades and hergrindstone, linen thread and an assortment of needles, little colored glass ballsshe’d spent weeks making and enchanting so they wouldn’t break when she used them,and small gems that had cost quite a chunk of the money she made from selling herclockwork toys, not to mention all the other tools she didn’t currently needfor this project. The bed next to her, on the other side, had the rest of thearmor, chest plate and second gauntlet, both nearly finished save for the collectorsthat would collect the untethered thaumic energy from the aether.  

She’s so close. She can feelit.

“Celandine!” her mother calledfrom downstairs, “Celandine, your friend is here!” 

“What?” she freezes, and thewand released the spell it was holding… at the wrong part of the gauntlet. Andsomething started smoking. “Shit!”“Celandine?”

A quick prestidigitation puts the fire out but it definitely smelt like magic gone wrong and scorched leather.“Oh, hell. Coming Mom!”

”I’m sending her up!”  

“Shit!” Celandine cast a lookabout her room. Her chairs were full of clothes and her bed was covered in armorand there was spare leather and clothes and books all over the floor and why hadn’tshe learned the invisible servant spell.

“Hey, Celandine? Your Momsaid—” Caela pauses in the doorway, the top of her head nearly brushing thetop of the doorframe. Her eyes widen as she takes in the state of the room. 

“I know! It’s messy I’m sorry.I got uh…” she looks down at the gauntlet and then back up at her best friend,smiling weakly. “I forgot you were coming over. I’m sorry.” She puts the gauntleton the workbench and reaches over the small space to her bed, which at leastonly had the breastplate and the other gauntlet on it. “Sit down and give me asecond, I’ll have this place tidied up in a…”

But Caela is already bendingover, gathering up the nearest books that had fallen over. “It’s okay. I’llhelp. Why don’t you tell me what you were working on?”And Celandine beams.  

30.) Sex

Oriana pressesthe pillow harder over her head, trying to block out the sound from the onlyother bed in the room. Since she’d been knighted in the service of Wahreight,she’d been moved out of the general barracks and into a shared room;unfortunately, her roommate decided that that was enough privacy in order tocarry on her… assignations with one of the paladins still in training. And theidea of actually talking to Ritika about it was blighted mortifying, so hereshe lies, pillows piled on her head, face burning as she tried to pretend shewas not hearing what she was hearing.

34.) AffectionIt’s not that Whisper’s family was not affectionate. Sheremembers her father’s hand on her head, her mother’s approving smile. Hugsfrom her brothers, kisses on her forehead from the governess. But compared tothe carnival, her family was as touched-starved as any dwarf.

Affection wasphysical and platonic and above all, free among them, holding hands and huggingfor no reason, kisses on cheeks and foreheads and lips, giant cuddle piles inone of the main tents the afternoon after a big show, all of them just waitingfor the inevitable cry to start packing up. 

And the sex. Oh, seaand storms, the sex. There was just so much of it. After the first year she’dgone from having sex once in her entire life to having had more partners thanshe could count, of so many genders, in several different… permutations. Things would just…escalate. Someone would be feeling bad and a cuddle pile or a platonic kisswould turn into make-you-feel-better sex, someone would decide that they wereboard and seek someone out, or two people would be fighting and suddenly they’dbe up against the wall (that happened with Ignatius and a few of the othersmore than she would care to admit), or they’d be coming down off a high of asuccessful heist or a show, adrenaline still singing high gospel within them,and next thing you knew you’d be tearing off someone’s clothes. Maybeseveral someone’s.

But the real world doesn’twork that way. And after a bad experience or two on her way to Hazelscar, she isthoroughly aware of that. Most people don’t like being touched.

She meets Adoraor and Keithiafirst, and she makes sure to keep her hands to herself. Even when Adoraor isbleeding out and she has the stupid idea to stick a knife in his chest to seeif it’ll heal him, because, hey, it worked on that orc, or when Keithia (notThia, not yet) places a hand on her shoulder to press healing magic, warm andtingling, into her skin. Not even when they’re barring the door of a cold stonechamber and waiting out the night, and she knows she could stop them both fromshivering. 

She’s almost starving from it,achingly aware of where people are in relation to her at all times. She finallygives in and hugs Keithia about two weeks in. She feels Keithia freeze up for ahalf a second and she closes her eyes, waiting for the rejection, before Keithiasqueezes back, just for a second, before she eases back. Whisper has to forceherself not to cling, to let her new friend go. 

Oriana, she learns, hatesbeing touched at all and the boys are weird about it, so she has to make ithigh fives and playful slaps and punches to the arm. She can hug Frank, atleast, he’s not strange about it. Sing-songtoo, until he vanishes. 

She nearly cries when it getscold enough that they have to huddle in the Magnificent Bubble (also screw Leomund,she’s the one casting the spell, she’ll call it what she wants), and the Bubbleis just big enough for them. If they huddle. It’s almost like the piles she’sused to, and she plays it off with a few sighs and rolled eyes, but when sheends up cuddled next to Twiggy and Isao of all people, she has to bury her headin her arms, so no one will see her face. It’s almost good enough.

Yooo for the detailed headcanon meme would u mind doing like... all the ones ure able to for Hanschen? Like feel free to skip as many as u want but itd be cool to hear ur thoughts on my Best Boy

Um? Little Hansy Rilow? Jackass Extraordinaire? Love of my life? Ofc I’ll do as many as I can!! Thanks so much for sending these! I hope you like them and I’m sorry they took me so long! (Also I answered these out of order and towards the end I was running a bit low on steam so there are some answers that are Not So Good mixed in there, sorry)

Under the cut or on Ao3 here :) 

1. What does their bedroom look like?

I think for the most part it would be tidy. Bed made, desk (mostly) clear, etc. He’s got some laundry on the floor, a couple of books lying about, and his jacket as well as his school things are never put away but everything else is in it’s place. 

His desk is by the window so he can make good use of natural light and It’s usually got assignments for school on it as well as whatever books might go along with them when he’s not using it. 

He keeps a small collection of books in his room- his favourites. Whatever he’s currently reading is kept on his bedside table and everything else is stacked by his desk but they should be on the shelf in the living room. 

He’s a nerd.

2. Do they have any daily rituals?

 I don’t think he would, not outside what he needs to do (school). Not unless you count him monologuing while he masturbates as a ritual, I have a feeling that’s a daily thing. 

3. Do they exercise, and if so, what do they do? How often?

 He does not, he would much rather lounge somewhere comfy with something he finds enjoyable. A book, a person, a puzzle, etc. 

4. What would they do if they needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

I can see him being like “Everybody, get out of my way” (This is meant to be read in John Mulaney’s voice from the thing where he followed this with something like “I’m just here to feed my birds”) but I can also see him just clearing enough space for himself and getting to work. I guess it depends on who’s in the kitchen making what and what he’s going to be making. He’s not going to be interrupting someone that’s making cake or pastries just so he can cut vegetables in peace. 

5. Cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

His parents/governess were somewhat strict about cleanliness when he was a child so he makes an effort to keep himself well groomed, especially when adults are present. No dirt under his fingernails, his clothes and hair are neat etc. He’s less concerned about it when he’s with the other boys and even less when he’s relaxing, either by himself or with Ernst, but he still somewhat pays attention to how much dirt he’s getting on himself or how much work it will take him to make himself look properly presentable before he finds himself around adults again. 

I think I got into workspace okay with his bedroom? He’s mostly tidy because he has to be, any disorder in his room can easily be taken care of. 

6. Eating habits and sample daily menu

I think he would love sweet things (candy, fruit, berries, etc) and he’s always a slut for baked goods. I have no idea what kind of things ppl usually ate in 1890′s Germany. 

7. Favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

He only really considers time wasted if he’s not spending it on something he likes to do or needs to do. So he has no favourite way to waste time, he only feels as though he’s wasting time if he’s bored out of his mind for no good reason. 

8. Favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

Ernst. It really isn’t safe for him to be smooshing booties in a vineyard with another boy but? He’s doing it. And being all poetic about it too ofc, he really likes Ernst. 

If he can indulge he will, he loves it. Life’s too short to deny himself pleasure, so long as said pleasure doesn’t harm him and/or get in the way of him becoming a millionaire.  

9. Makeup?

None. I can see him maybe trying, or at least wanting to try makeup at some point? Never with anyone around or if there was a chance of someone catching him though. (I’m a sucker for boys in makeup tho and I think modern Hanschen would enjoy makeup. If u want to hear a bit more abt that u know how 2 contact me)

10. Neuroses? Do they recognize them as such?

Neurotypical Hans™

11. Intellectual pursuits?

Literature and languages. He loves reading, loves diving into a book and analyzing characters, plot, symbolism, all of it. He loves talking about them as well, he could talk for hours about his favourites. He’s fascinated by other languages and speaks a handful rather fluently as an adult. He probably also enjoys reading the same book but translated into different languages because no translation is exact and it’s always interesting to see a slightly different take on things. 

I can also see him having interest in biology? Because science is fascinating and it’s amazing how diverse and intricately designed living things can be. 

12. Favorite book genre?

He talks about the books he likes when he’s jerking off so I don’t think I really need to get into that lmao 

13. Sexual Orientation? And, regardless of own orientation, thoughts on sexual orientation in general?

Multisexual. Bi/pan/ply/whatever. A pretty person is a pretty person & all that.

I think he might see the idea of sexual orientation as a little silly or perhaps performative? He understands that he’s expected to only like women and knows that once he’s older he’ll be expected to marry one, to have children etc etc. So for the most part he keeps his attraction to men to himself (Ernst being a very obvious exception, likely not the only one but it’s not something he would ever reveal lightly) and he thinks that most people are doing the same in order to avoid being judged negatively by their community.

Something along the lines of “everyone is only acting like they’re exclusively attracted to the opposite sex because it’s what’s seen as normal. They don’t want everyone else to point fingers at them calling them sinners and sexual deviants and condemning them to hell so they deny themselves half the beauty the world has to offer. For this same reason, they’re quick to attack anyone around them who might be revealed as queer. They’re so focused on keeping their own secret safe that they never realize everyone around them is keeping exactly the same one.”  

14. Physical abnormalities? (Both visible and not, including injuries/disabilities, long-term illnesses, food-intolerances, etc.)

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

15. Biggest and smallest short term goal?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

16. Biggest and smallest long term goal?

Biggest: “When I am amillionaire”Smallest: I don’t think he has any small goals tbh ? 

17. Preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

I’m not rly sure what this one’s asking tbh?? He likes looking nice tho.

18. Favorite beverage?

Hot chocolate 

19. What do they think about before falling asleep at night?

Have you prayed tonight, Desdemona?

(I think a recurring theme would be his future- what he wants, what he can get, how he can get it etc.)

20. Childhood illnesses? Any interesting stories behind them?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

21. Turn-ons? Turn-offs?

I’m stickin 2 sex ones bc otherwise it’s Too Vague and stresses me tf out tbh

Turn-ons: hair pulling, necking (he loves hickies but he’s strict about not having any that might be visible), being straddled, nice thighs, a good ass, little gasps and moans, begging

Turn-offs: bad kissing, poor hygiene, not listening to/paying attention to his feedback, going too fast (Mr. “half-closed eyes, half-open mouths, and turkish draperies” would Def love foreplay and teasing,, trying to skip right over it is? A no.)

22. Given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

23. How organized are they? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in their everyday life?

See 1  

24. Is there one subject of study that they excel at? Or do they even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

See 11 (he’s pretty good at everything tho)

25. How do they see themselves 5 years from today?

Long dead because it’s 2017, but 5 years from the show he probably sees himself in university. 

26. Do they have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t workout?

I don’t know what his plans would be but I’m sure he’s got some cushy career in mind that he wants to work towards. He’s a Rilow, he doesn’t need a backup plan. 

27. What is their biggest regret?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

28. Who do they see as their best friend? Their worst enemy?

Ernst. His worst enemy is probably whoever is second in the class rankings, if you go by the play. Melchior in the musical. Little Hans is In It To Win It. 

29. Reaction to sudden extrapersonal disaster (eg The house is on fire! What do they do?)

His brain shuts down for a minute and then he realizes that yes, this is happening and oh dear god I need to get out of here. He tries (and fails) to give the impression that he is calm, cool, and collected but he’s doing pretty good for someone who is screaming internally as loudly as he is.    

30. Reaction to sudden intrapersonal disaster (eg close family member suddenly dies)

He just keeps going. He tries to act like everything is fine, to show that he’s strong. The second he’s alone he deflates. He’s depressed af but does everything he can to hide it. 

31. Most prized possession?

I’m not sure what exactly, but it’s something fancy and adult that makes him feel sophisticated. He won’t admit how much he loves it though. 

32. Thoughts on material possessions in general?

👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌there👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit

33. Concept of home and family?

He thinks of it as faintly ridiculous. 

“Why are these people somehow more important than others simply because you share blood? Shouldn’t the value of your relationship with someone have more to do with how well you get along and care for each other? What’s the point of marriage, you put on a show so you can have children as you’re expected to and this absurd cycle repeats with your children and so on.”

34. Thoughts on privacy? (Are they a private person, or are they prone to ‘TMI’?)

He greatly values his privacy, he usually only shares exactly as much information as is necessary. Unless he trusts you, in which case he doesn’t s hut the fu ck u p 

35. What activities do they enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

See 7

36. What makes them feel guilty?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

37. Are they more analytical or more emotional in their decision-making?

Analytical for the most part. He knows what he wants out of life and  what he needs to do to put him on the path to getting it. I feel like he operates with a mindset a bit like “people can leave you but things are forever” and so he’s pretty okay with making decisions that hurt people (himself included) if it will benefit him financially, academically, raise his social status etc. 

38. Would they consider themselves a Type A or Type B personality?

A? I don’t know tbh, my knowledge about this is limited to the 30 seconds I spent skimming the wiki article   

39. What recharges them when they’re feeling drained?

Peace and quiet, being alone. Bonus points if he’s somewhere pretty and/or rly comfortable.  

40. Would you say that they have a superiority-complex? Inferiority-complex? Neither?

I don’t feel I know enough about either to say lmao  

41. How misanthropic are they?

He thinks people are ridiculous, h

ryan sent me a post abt dragon dicks which got me rambling abt this one furry i follow and. lowkey shattered my train of thought, I don’t remember what i was planing 2 say here and I’m too tired to start the Thought Translation Process over again lmao 

42. Hobbies?

Reading, puzzles, Ernst, calligraphy, 

43. How far did they get in formal education? What are their views on formal education vs self-education?

He completed university. The only real difference between formal education and self-education is if you have a diploma people will believe you when you say you know what you’re talking about.  

44. Religion?

He’s whatever everyone else is. I don’t what religion everyone is in the show,, I don’t know shit abt religion tbh. But he believes in god, though he’s not as devout as everyone else. 

45. Superstitions or views on the occult?

Foolish. Ridiculous. Absurd. Childish. He believes in them.

46. Do they express their thoughts through words or deeds?

Words mostly. He’s excellent with them and loves to talk and talk and talk. 

47. If they were to fall in love, who (or what) is their ideal?

Ernst, probably. I don’t doubt that Hans loves him dearly but I don’t think he’s in love.  

48. How do they express love?

He talks about milk. 

I can’t think of anything lmao

49. If this person were to get into a fist fight, what is their fighting style like?

Tbh I can’t imagine him fighting. He probably just says something that pisses someone off and then gets knocked flat on his ass. 

50. Is this person afraid of dying? Why or why not?

I don’t think so, I think he feels almost like. I don’t think invincible would be the right word, but he sees no reason to fear it at his age. Yes, Wendla and Moritz died, but he has no plans to kill himself and he can’t get pregnant so a botched abortion isn’t a threat to him. He’s in good health and he’s got his wits about him. What is there for him to be afraid of? He can worry about dying later. 

Jane Eyre - 1934 - 4/5

Vodka-less and tired and very cold, we begin our journey to the very first talkie version of Jane Eyre.

ow my bra hurts. I wish I had vodka. this is so sad. wait i have a rokerdelig brb. depression strikes syet again - i drank it earlier. alright lets get started in the 30s whoop. wow audio quality 10/10 lolol. opening with john reed hunting her down and she's blonde oh no she's been found.  holy fuck he's throwing shit at her - SLAP BITCH GET HIM. nooooooooNOOOO why is it errored. okay fixed. aunt mary? oh damn she collapsed cause he pitched that cup at her what an ass - bessie is reading to her naw. she's cut out of a lot of them and never shown so kind at the time she's actually. oh shit. ahaha 'they're bad and i hate them.' 'since you hate us so much i bet you'll be happy to know i'm sending you to an orphanage.' 'yes i am happy' looool. 'go away! GO AWAY! goodbye!" hell yeah lil Jane you stand up to that bish. not quite the snappy shebang she says in the others but very satisfying nonetheless - a lot braver and more obstinate love it. oh no her curls snip snip. ohh her hair is cute af. and very 30s ahaha what a coincidence. wow she talks back like hey ahah. she's looking down at lowood preacher dude down her nose ahah. didn't say hell? ahahaha omg this is great so far. she's the best lil Jane I think I've seen. ohh interesting way to show passing of time - the flipping book pages and the showing of the top of the next chapter - skipping quite a few ahead. skipped helen? straight to her ahah oh shit -- teaching. she's standing up to brocklehurst like no ones business. 'you're dismissed! get out!' 'I'll get out - gladly!' ohmygod she's great she's so great none of that simpering and passivity she's taking the world by the balls.  'you cruel dingy childbeater!' 'you ought to be tarred and feathered you ugly old crocodile!' lmao im in love with her. she walks off laughing and happy about being dismissed. miss temple loves her and gonna miss her so sweet, brocklehurst was like holy damn wtf. ahaha her drivers a drunk, fukn flying across the road she's like bye m8. she's proud and above him and annoyed she has to walk rather than die in a carriage crash. oh damn now she meets no? yeah she's not even made it --oh fuck that horse FLIPPED. she helps unprompted and isn't hesitant in talking back and speaking up oh my god she just stalked off after helping him up ahaha. ahaha oh shit the drunk driver works at thornfield and when they asked why she walked instead of taking the carriage she covered his ass and said she just wanted to walk through the meadows and he's like oh thank fuck thank you jesus she just rolls her eyes with a smile. she speaks 3 languages and draws and plays - very accomplished. he's adele's uncle? Samuel Poole ey what a g m8. and he warns her out of the blue to keep her door locked at night. that 30s makeup is crazy awesome. round face, rosy cheeks, long brows and dark eye makeup and lips. short hair. Adele gives her the tour. she's proud and self-assured. poh damn they're only allowed on one side of the house - sam is married to grace poole. just dunno why she's blonde? probs cause she's supposed to be like angelic? anyway she's gorgeous and the angles are nice and the lighting is good--andw what era are these dresses jfc there's no way she could afford that dress fuck. and who curled her hair and that's a low bow whats happening it looks like a southern gone with teh wind situation. he's smaller than she is. he's bathed in darkness - the light is dimmer on him than her. she's even got a necklace. they're not sitting by the fire. he was too busy looking at her to notice her giving his tea. awkward sips ahaha. it's got like a diamond on the necklace. he looks like he's squatting on that tiny chair. oh shit she's gonna sing instead of play. yikes i hope she can--she's literally taller than him. oh she's gonna play and sing. she looks like blanche is supposed to look? and of course she can sing - all framed by candlelight and hanging crystals. the audio is crackling ahah wow incredible they can do it at all - one of the first talkies damn. 'lovely' wow she a mary sue? please don't be a mary sue.sings and yeets outta there not even finished her tea. far out that dress is not doing it for me. what world would a governess be dressed like that? she wears nothing but white. and journalling is never a good idea. but my god she's gorgeous---lots of SCREAMINGGG. and they're telling Jane that its just a servant and its clearly not grace poole doing the screaming? Fairfax knows? Jane can't blame Grace? Jane's like not freaked about it - i suppose she's journalling about it. Adeles a 'mischief' lol nice. she's ran from her lesson and climbed a tree and now she's stuck up there and Jane like doesn't hesitate just scales that tree after her 'uncle edward help! my foot's caught!' 'her foot's caught' 'her foot's caught, so i gathered.' he seems so gentle and kind and pleasant. gets adele out of the tree - 'and where would you like this package delivered, miss eyre?' ahaha cute ooh they know when rochester is leaving to london. he's handsome i'll give him that, it's better --wait when was blanche introduced. asking him when he's getting married and he says next month and adele asks if he's gonna marry blanche and he avoids the question and she starts on but is interrupted by a frantically gesticulating Jane shaking her head, and she cuts herself off and skips away all innocvently lol til she slips moron kid hit her knee ahahaha what a dumbass. Jane's helping clean the chandelier? and Adele is helping as well, that's cool. wtf this kids a moron getting herself headdown stuck in a vase and JAne smashes that shit and snaps at Rochester's amused quip at breaking his shit and blanche laughs and Jane turns on her lol what a savage and storms off. dancing around her room to the sound of the music downstairs that's nice and cute I'd do the same thing ahaha. she's all petulant cause brought blanche who hasn't been introduced properly? is she gonna put her fancy dress on? no? i hope not. damn they're in a ball room? nice. blanche has dark hair and looks much older than any other, not a bad thing just different. they call her beautiful and pretty - not even trying to pretend she's plain and simple. he's suddenly all over her staring intensely and accompanying her into the room and now they're dancing no way? no? no. governesses and landowners don't dance? she's down here without adele. he's sad she didn't dress up - she didn't want to appear as anything than what she is : a governess! at least she's proud of it. he's amused. and charmed. she thinks he's mocking her. now they're being introduced - an interesting way of doing things but rather natural compared to immediately knowing each other. Adele's sitting here with some old guy talking shit about people wow that's mean. fkn kids and this lord ingram is encouraging the hell out of her ahaha. but when she taunts him suddenly its not so funny ahaha. blanche is nice but sarcastic? it's a wedding party ooooh? adele m8 letting things slip? it's 2am and she's dreaming of him - and damn she's going straight for the curtains with that candle and its not lighting? then we see an altogether put together lady return with teh candle to the room upstairs before crazy cackling. god Jane is pretty. oh shit the house is on fire. nah just his room. there's no dramatic music - yes! she's the one to tear down the curtains and open the window - she's legit the most assertive main character i've seen - he's woken up and the fire is like already out. she's got this sorted all he has to do is give her a blanket 'why didn't you call for help?' 'I didn't think it necessary...' noice. here have some alcohol - from the same cup: might as well kiss. she burnt her hands and HE KISSED THEM. she's like bye. she is outies not taking any of his affections like she got better things to do, like sleep. he's in her room? he brought her a book. they're standing very close. he wants her to help redecorate the west wing - he's quite sure he's getting married in a month and that she'll have things to suit the lady's taste. eyeyeyeyyy. its a pupppppppppppyyyyy. oh it's adele's room. ohmygod so fuckin cute rochester is putting adele to bed and she's saying that she wants an aunt that she can choose and she wants it to be miss eyre and he says she wont have them and she says he has to ask her and she'll make sure she says yes. 'that'd be very nice'. cute af ma8. 'don't forget to ask her!' he grins happily. she chooses a cutain (?) and rochester jumps in 'we prefer this one!', and ol mate says 'i congratulate the lady on her discerning taste - the room will look delightful!' what a thing to say. she looks fkn miserable lolol she thinks she's choosing shit out for blanche - they're choosing out jewels now. she's fkn despondent. she flees the jewellers, he follows her and she cries and tells him she's off on holiday. he's not happy like did you think that would go well?? she's not even saying goodbye to him ahaha bye adele and fairfax nevermind here he is marching up the stairs weren't you gon' say goodbye????? tajes her bags and back upstairs to show her the room she designed? she loves it and he's happy and taking the coat off - 'it's incomplete' 'incomplete? everything seems to be in its proper place - what's missing?' 'you.' ohmygodddddddd. 'can't you see i've been falling in love with you all of this time?' rochester yaaaassss. she's not about to argue lol. whoops - 'you must never decieve me again' she chides lovingly and he laughs and shakes his head. like duuuuude i haven't forgotten this is Jane Eyre. okay he's very handsome and she's gorgeous what a lovely couple. now she's dressed in enormous dresses and jewels much more fitting now I suppose, though she did just say she didn't want to be lavished and pampered. oh what the fuck lol what 'edward my husband!' ahaha oh shit bertha just popped nicely out of nowhereeeee -'you can't separate me from my husband again! no one shall!' oh shit. oh shit. wow that was so brushed over - 1930s sensibilities??? Jane's like uhhhh what was that explain yourself he's like I love you you make me so happy i didn't want to tell you I was married to a psycho that I keep in the attic and take care of. she almost forgave him then he rushed off to help with his violent wife - what she gon do?? she waiting forever surely not she's better than that. yas ohmygod is she gone? SHES GONE AHAHAHA YAS DAMN GO GIRL. she wrote a goodbye note to Adele but not him ahaha savage I love her. ohh a star wars cut noice. he's just gon sit in his library? took mrs fairfax to be like yo dude she couldn't have gone very far ahah she's hiding from him in the shadows all misery and rain. searching for her in the dark- thornfield's on fire! oh yikes it's seriously on fire.  get out of there ya;ll. it's so odd not to have any action music oh damn he's going into the house to get bertha he's in his tophat ahaha fire effects! fire effects! fire effects! whoo. she's found herself in a soup kitchen very nice Jane you're an angel. she's going to india huh oh damn we speeding through this bit - 30 seconds after we meet Rivers he's proposing ahaha. she looks insulted, thanks him and storms out. she's pouring soup an hour before her wedding to Rivers and Sam's just popped up looking fucked uppp. i think he's just drunk tbh. bertha burned to death. Jane's frantic and upset m8 and yeah Sam's drunk af. so JAne went to him - he's blind and angry and an't see her and she's crying and he's shocked my god he's in the light and he's in the dark and he's reaching toward the light and touching her face - lol she raced back to thornfield in a day. lol you want some tea Eyre, it's nice for you to call. he's convinced ---ohhhhh--- "strange, you pity me when I'm blind and yet when I was worse than blind you had no mercy.' he's sending her awayyyyy noo he literally just told her they never belonged to each other and they never did like damn son that is fuckin colldddddd. she's so emotional and he's like yep I guess. She was awesome, he was handsome and had his fine moments. It was cute af m8 noice.