#didn't you ever think about why the good side is all dark and brooding and self-hating and struggling | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oo-delallymrcrow · 7 days

Text

The Casting of Stars

Summary: Cooper Howard lands the lead role in a major period drama, playing a brooding aristocrat. Aurora, an up-and-coming actress, is cast as the young debutante who catches his character's eye.

A/N: Hello! This is so exciting this is my first chapter on this series. It’s not too long with this one but expect longer and better chapters in the future. It’s going to be fun and a rollercoaster of emotions.

No warnings yet. It will bit of a slow-burn but there will be smut later.

Cooper Howard felt like a broken man. He sat in his chair just staring at the dark television. A lamp in the corner of the living room filled it with a dim light. He drank the dark liquid in his glass, making the back of his throat burn from the taste. Yet, he still drank it to try and get rid of his sorrows.

He couldn't sleep, his mind just swirling with thoughts of how it all went downhill so quickly. Finding out the love of your life worked for a company that wanted to destroy life as they knew it. Then realizing that you were roped into it and was the face of said company. So when he said he wasn't doing it anymore, that he wasn't going to be with someone who was apart of it, they quickly knocked him down.

First it was the divorce. Barbara had Vault-Tec on her side so she had the very best lawyers. They were like vultures, picking away at him until he was left with the clothes on his back and his loyal canine, Roosevelt.

Vault-Tec didn't stop there, oh no. They had to make sure he wasn't going to let his voice be heard so they dragged his name. First it was rumors of staying out too late. Partying with the wrong crowd. Until headlines stated he cheated on his wife. How he was a terrible husband. Only caring for himself.

It made him feel sick. That everyone that he called friends turned him away. They knew Cooper. They knew he wasn't like that. But no one wants to be in bad press. So he was cast out, literally and figuratively. No one wanted to hire him anymore. Every movie that he auditioned for was an immediate no. He no longer got calls from his agent. He had to start finding work elsewhere. Turning into an entertainer at children's parties.

The worst of it all, he could barely see his own daughter. Janey was his entire world and to only be able to see her on a few weekends. It was breaking his spirit. He just wanted to rip his hair out and scream.

But he just sat in the nearly dark room and drank. He wondered what would have happened if he just kept his mouth shut. Just smiled and posed for the camera. He would still have a career. He would still have a wife, yet a marriage that he wasn't happy in. He would still be able to see his daughter.

Cooper rubbed at his eyes in frustration, keeping the tears at bay. He just didn't know what to do. He scratched at the stubble that he hasn't shaved in awhile. Honestly, he hasn't really been taking care of himself like he used to. His hair was getting a little longer as well. He tried to keep a routine after everything but without having a purpose to go anywhere or do anything, what was the point.

The phone ringing made him jump and spill some of his drink onto the carpet. He cussed as he sat it down on the coffee table before getting up to answer the phone. He didn't know why it was ringing. It was late into the night so no one should be calling him at this hour.

‘Maybe a last minute birthday booking,’ Cooper thought as he picked up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Cooper Howard! How are you sir?”

Cooper blinked a few times, his brain catching up to the voice he just heard. It was his agent, Jeffrey Smith.

“Jeff? I'm well,” Cooper glanced over to the glass on his table. “How are you? Haven't heard from you in awhile.”

“Yeah sorry about that Coop. Show business is tough, you know.”

Cooper did know. He just didn't think he'd ever hear Jeff's voice again at this point.

“What can I do for you Jeff? It is rather late.”

“Sorry about that Coop but I have good news!”

Cooper couldn't help the grimace when he shouted into the phone. But smiled as he let some hope fill him at his words.

“Cooper Howard, how would you like to be a star again? I got a call from Crow Studios and they wanted you in their next movie.”

Cooper couldn't believe what he was hearing. He thought for a minute a nuke had struck and he died. He didn't think he'd ever get a call like this. Especially hearing that a studio actually wanted him.

“Cooper?”

“Yes!” Cooper took a breath and cleared his throat before answering more calmly. “Yes sir. I would like to star in their next movie.”

“Wonderful! I knew you would take it. I mean, not like you have other options, am I right?”

Jeff laughed in the phone and Cooper rolled his eyes but bite his tongue before saying something. He didn't want to lose out on a roll he just got. Even if Jeff was being a bit of a jerk.

“Sorry Coop, sore subject I know. Anyway, I'll have the script sent over to you. It's a roll you haven't really done before but I'm sure you'll fit the bill. A brooding aristocrat in a period drama.”

That surprised Cooper. He was always casted as a rough cowboy or a man of action. He didn't really have rolls that he wasn't getting shot at. It was something he hadn't done before, but if he got a job out of it then he wasn't going to complain. Cooper told Jeff his address as he thought more on what the movie might be. Jeff was about to say his goodbyes before Cooper stopped him.

“Do you know who my co-star will be? If I have one that is.”

“Oh yeah, there's a new actress on the scene. Uh let's see I think her name is Y/N L/N. You know, the one from those Nuka-Cola commercials. She's been signed on as the love interest I think.”

Cooper nodded along as he thought of her name. He doesn't think he has seen the commercials as he hasn't really been in the mood to watch tv. He might just have to turn it on to see if he can catch one before bed.

“Alright thanks Jeff. I really appreciate you calling me for this.”

“Of course Coop. You're my favorite actor, just don't go saying that to the press.”

Cooper again rolled his eyes but said his goodbyes before hanging up the phone. He looked at the glass on the table before he let out a loud cheer. He turned off the lights before heading to his room for bed. He just couldn't believe his luck. Maybe this was his shot at starting a new chapter.

~~~~~○~~~~~○~~~~~○~~~~~○~~~~~○~~~~~○~~~~~○

You were at home when you got the phone call. You were reading a book next to the large window looking out into your neighborhood. You had a quiet life beside being the face of Nuka-Cola. That brought some nice cash for you but you were ready to move on. You went to a few auditions but they were a bust. Your agent, bless her heart, was trying to find you something. But life was tough for an up-and-coming actress. Everyone already had someone in mind and you just didn't fit the picture.

It was starting to dampen your spirits before your agent called. You quickly picked up the phone as you placed your book next to it.

“Hello Mrs. Evans, how are you?”

“Y/N my dear I am doing fantastic! I have wonderful news for you.”

You smiled as you watched out the window. You watched the mailman walk up and place your mail in the mailbox before walking down the street. You blinked as you heard Mrs. Evans talking, realizing you missed half of what she said.

“- their lead actress.”

“I'm sorry Mrs. Evans I didn't hear the first part.”

You heard the small laugh and huff. “Y/N, Crow Studios wants you to be their lead actress. They have a movie in mind and I already told them yes.”

You couldn't help the gasp that escaped you, “they do? You did? What kind of movie is it?”

“They do and yes I did. I told you I'd take care of everything and it's a period drama I believe. They want you to play as their young debutante who falls in love with the brooding lead actor.”

You hummed as you bit your lip, “do you know who is playing the love interest?”

“I have no idea, dear but they said they had someone in mind. I guess they just haven't gotten to them or heard back. But that doesn't matter. Y/N you got the part and I already sent the script out to you this morning when I got it. I didn't want to wait for your answer so I told them yes for you when I got it.”

‘Probably what the mailman just delivered,’ you thought.

“Alright Mrs. Evans I just saw the mailman drop off my mail. I'll go check that and get to reading right away.”

“You better. I have high hopes for you my dear and landing this role could lead to bigger and better things. Don't mess this up and I'll call you later for more details about production. Ciao.”

You said goodbye before going out to grab your mail. You came back inside to place your mail on the counter of your kitchen as you prepared to make lunch. You grabbed the big envelope and opened it to see the title of the movie on the first page. You smiled and squealed so loudly that your dog Rosie came running in. The cocker spaniel seemed like she was smiling up at you with her tail wagging in excitement.

“Oh Rosie, this is so exciting!”

You knelt down to pet her and laughed as she gave you little licks. You stood up and looked at the script again. This will be a wonderful new beginning.

Taglist: @danveration, @thespritepepsi

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout #Falling For You series

17 notes · View notes

oatmealnebraska · 3 months

Text

Something gave way in Mrs Conrad. Joscelyn's apparent immobility maddened her. She let loose all the suppressed hatred of years. She shouted--she cried--she raved--she leaned across the gate and tried to shake Joscelyn. In short she made such a show of herself that all the rest of her life she went meekly and humbly before Joscelyn, remembering it.

As ashamed as Mrs Conrad Dark is of this meltdown, I have to give her a lot of credit for it. Finally someone in the Hugh-Joscelyn storyline is casting aside the clan pride in order to actually communicate how hurtful this situation is for them.

It's not just Hugh and Joscelyn who have lost ten years.

Requisite Tumblr disclaimer - no one is ever obligated to have children if they don't want to. That said, before the ill-fated wedding, Hugh and Joscelyn did want children - they wanted to make a home full of life and joy at Treewoofe where they could raise a family, host friends, and be a vibrant part of the community:

Their home, haunted by no ghosts of the past--only by wraiths of the future. Unborn eyes would look out of its windows--unborn voices sing in its rooms--unborn feet run lightly in the old orchard. Beautiful to-morrows--unknown lovely years were waiting there for them. Friends would come to them--hands of comrades would knock at their door--silken gowns would rustle through their chambers--there would be companionship and good smacking jests such as their clan loved. What a home they would make of Treewoofe! All the richness and ripeness of life would be theirs.

The loss of all that has impacted not just Hugh and Jocelyn, but their family and friends as well. It wouldn't have been unreasonable for Mrs Conrad to expect that she would have grandchildren by now; instead, she's had ten years of a lonely, bitter son with an empty house full of dust.

[Side note: how on earth does the Conservative Party think that Hugh is their best candidate? The situation with Joscelyn leaves him so open to attacks on his character - not just the terrible rumours about what caused the breakup, or period-typical patriarchal attacks like, "How can he lead the riding when he can't even control his own wife?" but also perfectly valid questions about his ability to resolve conflict.]

Throughout the book, Mrs Conrad Dark has been described as cold and venomous and as hating Joscelyn for no good reason (most likely for a clan-typical grudge against Joscelyn's mother). When Joscelyn encounters her here, with "that hooded look of hers as she brooded her venom," we might think that we're in for a Lady Catherine de Bourgh / Elizabeth Bennet type of scene, with Mrs Conrad as the unsympathetic adversary who unintentionally empowers Joscelyn to resolve her romantic stalemate.

That's not what happens. Instead:

Mrs Conrad deliberately tells Joscelyn that Hugh still loves her.

Mrs Conrad humbles herself on her son's behalf, telling Joscelyn that, despite hating her all these years, she would forgive her if Joscelyn would only go back to Hugh and make him happy.

And that longtime hatred of Joscelyn? Turns out, it's pretty well justified:

Convention fell away from Joscelyn. She felt as if she and Mrs Conrad were alone in some strange world where nothing but realities mattered. "Mrs Dark," she said slowly, "why have you always hated me--not just since--since I married Hugh--but before it?" "Because I knew you didn't love Hugh enough," answered Mrs Conrad fiercely. "I hated you on your wedding-night because you didn't deserve your happiness. I knew you would play fast and loose with him in some way. Do you know there hasn't been a night since your wedding that I haven't prayed for evil to come on you. And yet--if you'd go back to him and make him happy--I'd--I'd forgive you. Even you." "Go back to him. But does he want me back? Doesn't he--doesn't he love Pauline?" "Pauline! I wish he did. She wouldn't have broken his heart--she wouldn't have made him a laughing-stock. I used to pray he would love her. But she wasn't pretty enough. Men have such a cursed hankering for good looks. You had him fast--snared in the gold of your hair. Even yet--even yet. When he was fainting on the road down there, after the accident that might have killed him--he called for you--you who had left him and shamed him--it was you he wanted when he thought he was dying." A fierce pang of joy stabbed through Joscelyn. But she would not let Mrs Conrad suspect it. "Isn't he going to sell Treewoofe?" "Sell Treewoofe! Sometimes I'm afraid he will--and go God knows where--my dearest son." Something gave way in Mrs Conrad. Joscelyn's apparent immobility maddened her.

Note that - even in this "strange world where nothing but realities mattered" - Joscelyn doesn't offer Mrs Conrad any truths of her own in return. She doesn't make any declarations; she only asks questions, and keeps her own reactions guarded. If I were Mrs Conrad, I'd be maddened by her immobility too.

#a tangled web #tangled web book club #lm montgomery

9 notes · View notes

29pageshomestuckeveryday · 11 months

Text

Homestuck, page 3,438

[S] Equius: Seek the highb100d.

youtube

Walkthrough: http://readmspa.org/transcripts/readmspa-transcript-6_005338_Triterniabound_transcript_and_walkthrough.html

Songs used: Horschestra STRONG Version by Alexander Rosetti, Nepeta's Theme by Toby Fox, Blackest Heart (With Honks) by Toby Fox, Midnight Calliope by Mark Hadley, and Miracles by ICP

Song commentaries:

Alexander Rosetti:

(Equius Walkabout)

Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh. Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh. Neigh neigh neigh. Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh. Neigh. Neigh neigh. Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh. Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh.

Neigh neigh neigh neigh. Neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh neigh.

Toby Fox:

Neigh neigh neigh, neigh neigh.

Neigh neigh? Neigh.

Seriously though, despite its goofiness, this is one great track. Alexander Rosetti is easily one of the best composers on the team, and despite being often limited by his electronic instrumentation palette (he usually composes for real musicians to play), he's pulled this track off and several others fantastically.

Did I mention we're in love?

Also, the SNES funeral section interspersed with a small amount of Walls Covered in Blood at the end is just brilliant.

Toby Fox:

(Nepeta Walkabout)

Beep beep, meow... it's a remix of Walls Covered in Blood if you didn't notice~

The original Walls was actually pretty divisive - either people loved it or they thought the Mario Paint instruments were too much to bear. Here we get the best of both worlds - the catchy theme without the weird instrumentation! (And if you liked the original better... well... great! Because it still exists.)

I decided to hit on some of the more Latin aspects of her theme without a self-imposed limitation on what instruments I could choose. So I threw in some vibraslaps, some bongos, and a steel drum. To extend it for the album, I just decided to add EarthBound instruments and beatbox to the second part of the original song. Always a failproof plan!

:33

Toby Fox:

(Prelude to a Killer Clown)

This track went under most people's radars when it was first released because it really was a soundtrack for a situation that had not yet taken place.

Andrew asked me to add some 'brooding honks' to it... and some amazingly hilarious justaposition occurred that somehow made the piece even more frightening to all those that played it at 6am in the morning.

Now people love it. Step one to improvement - add clowns!

Yep, that's my voice, by the way.

Mark Hadley:

(Gamzee the Killer)

When trying to come up with something for the flipped-out Gamzee, I decided to stick with the basics and write a short calliope melody in a minor key. As it loops, however, a dark droning backdrop becomes gradually more apparent, a darkness beneath the playfulness implied by the first part. The calliope fades out until only the droning sound remains, showing in essence that playtime is over. Also, I figured nothing makes carnival music sound more twisted than for the tempo/pitch to change, so I had the whole thing start gradually slowing down over time, giving it an even more unnatural feel. I wanted one last build-up near the end to build tension, and as it fades out and the listener is just starting to relax... HONK. honk.

On a side note, I think I enjoy writing creepy music even more than any other kind of music.

Toby Fox:

Soundtrack-wise... I think this was one of the greatest moments of Homestuck. This track makes my hair stand on end.

Author commentary: Here's [S] Equius: Seek the highbl00d, another playable RPG game. This was a really good one. They all kind of are, in their own ways. Except for the Meenahbound ones, which are Arguably Bad, Actually, but I only agree to that assessment if it includes the ever important "bad in mostly good and funny ways" stipulation upon which the structural stability of my entire creative career rests. But Christ, why am I talking about that garbage when we are about to review some truly choice material focusing exclusively on your favorite meowrails. It is a great illustration of their tragic dynamic; deeply committed and caring partners in the diamonds quadrant, and yet compromised by Equius and his stubborn class-driven faults, his pathological reverence for his superiors, his forced and probably not genuinely felt sense of disdain for lower bloods like Nepeta, and ultimately his failure to rise above these flaws when presented with a real test of character and friendship. A test imposed, of course, by a boorish murderclown, who from this point onward just ruins fucking everything, constantly. Also there's great horror ambience in this game, with a real sense of tension. It's one of these unusual installments where I will bother to say: you just need to play this one to really feel it. If you haven't already, well..that kind of baffles me? But I guess I just don't know anything about anybody reading these books, especially as we trudge relentlessly into the future. Maybe you're reading this ancient tome printed 500 years ago, and the online content doesn't exist anymore. If that's the case, I'm so, so sorry, Robosteve8937501.

And, now that I just talked up this great game, here's where I check out for a while again, because obviously I'm not going to wisecrack my way through every single page of this thing, because, um…l have a LIFE??? Maybe you should look into that. Yeah, I'm looking at YOU, Robosteve8937501. Have you set foot outside your consumption pod even ONCE over the last couple centuries? This is getting pathetic, man.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking Robosteve8937501 is going to turn into another one of my running joke characters down here in the author notes realm, which includes an entirely distinct continuum for casually idiotic worldbuilding, and against all odds and better judgment, you're actually becoming inexplicably invested in it. It's okay, you can admit it. You love the weird stories about my dead youth pastor, priest, and life coach from previous books, and now you're looking forward to future mentions of Robosteve8937501 as well, which is becoming additionally inevitable now that I've talked about him this much already. What do those numbers Is that his phone number? The answer is yes. Robosteve8937501 is actually very lonely, and he wants you to call him. Dude can't get a date to save his mean? Is that... life. Probably because he spends so much time holed up in his fucking consumption pod, reading and rereading all 200 volumes of the Homestuck books, 500 years after they were printed, and about 490 years after the apocalypse that wiped out the human race.

That's the end of all the dialogue between these two in this game. Every line was extremely good. Nothing I could say down here would improve upon it even a little, nor would any further analysis increase your pure enjoyment or appreciation of the content. Wow, I think I just found the perfect author note to paste at the bottom of every page from now on.

Then Nepeta embarks on her quest to "hide," i.e. find a place to watch Equius get killed, then jump out and get killed herself. We don't know that's what's going to happen yet, but I think this game lays it on pretty thick with the clues that something bad is going to happen. Their drawn-out goodbye, the emotional conversation they just had that spotlight them as characters, and which often precedes characters dying in media as a way of letting the viewers say their farewells too, and also the obvious fact that we're in the horror zone, so we might as well strap ourselves in and expect characters to start dropping like flies. Perhaps this game in serving all these purposes starts feeling additionally cruel, because if you didn't care much about these characters before reading all that stuff, you probably do now. Just in time to say goodbye. Let that be a lesson. Appreciate good characters while you still have the chance, and don't be late to hop on the bandwagon. Because by the time you hop on, the bandwagon may have been rigged to be just about to kill your newfound faves in a variation of the trolley experiment.

There are teapots all over the place. If nothing else, Nepeta's land has given her a lifelong passion for tea. Too bad her post-tea life didn't last very long. But it's also worth noting how it nicely pairs with Equius's milk habits. Maybe they could set up a nice tea shop in the afterlife. In fact, who's to say they didn't?

Nepeta's private space in the meteor involves—you guessed it—more shipping. All the depictions here and on following pages show pairings that seem to have a logical basis in the story. Except for the Dave x Tavros match-up. Accuse me of "ship hate" if you will, but that is an absolutely shameful pairing decision. Nepeta deserves to receive crushing volumes of anonymous internet harassment for this pitiful display of bad taste. Quick, everyone go submit your displeasure to user account "@arsenicCatnip" before she dies.

The "great" label is just a SBaHJ-ism. Jeff bumped up against the "great" to spy on Bro doing something stupid, if I recall correctly. We are just reprising that scenario, as Nepeta employs the same spying technique on Gamzee as he murders Equius. It's BASICALLY the exact same situation.

Nepeta's secret shame is exposed. There's nothing that shameful about her crush, because come on. We all love Karkat. I don't know who she was hiding it from though? Equius, at most? But what are moirails for if she can't share her secret flushed leanings with her partner? What have they even been talking about for hours on the smashed robot pile?? Also she didn't do a very good job covering up her HUGE mural with those crates. It's almost as if she wants her secret to be exposed. Nepeta...you're a fucking mess.

This is where the game gets especially creepy, mainly because of the music shift. My chief recollection of the music is that every now and then, an eerie distant honking sound can be heard. This is when you began to suspect Nepeta is completely screwed.

Touches like this help fill in the blanks of a story with subtext. Brown blood is everywhere. That means Tavros's body is being moved around, probably by Gamzee, given the text on the wall. What is he doing with that body??? (He is severing the head, so that he may passionately kiss it on the mouth at his leisure.)

More signs that Kanaya is on the move as well. She even sliced the transporter behind her so she couldn't be followed. She might be the only one who isn't being an idiot right now. But to be fair, that might also be a good description of her in relation to all twelve trolls over the general span of the entire story. What did she ever do that's dumb? I'm trying to think of something. Oh wait, I got it. She fell in love with Vriska. Wait. Wait…no. I lost it again. That was the smartest thing she ever did, because Vriska kicks ass and did nothing wrong.

Why is this fuckin wizard in this chest? I don't even… I mean, I do know the answer. It's because one of the supporting artists made a wizard sprite, completely unprompted, as they did with almost all the items in these games. But still. Kinda makes you think? (Nah.)

Nepeta sees something horrible through the vent. It's a great time to cut away to Equius so we can catch up with what she is seeing from his point of view. Which is great for him, since he has a front-row seat for what's currently happening here.

Back to Equius. He sends Nepeta off for her own "safety" and…immediately begins using his powerful hands to shatter his many glasses of milk that are scattered about on the floor for some reason. Good work, dude.

This chess monster can't catch a break. First, Vriska stole all its luck, sending it crashing down into this pit. Then Gamzee, with inexplicably incredible marksmanship, fires an arrow double-shot into both eyes, killing it. Come to think of it, the fact that Vriska drained all its luck shortly before probably had something to do with its unlikely arrow-based slaying as well.

So that's where Terezi's glasses went. Gamzee stealing a personal item of hers seems like a loaded action. As if he's signaling to her that he isn't quite done with her yet. I wonder what that means? I hope it's not creepy and awful. Equius, like a complete idiot, thinks that's Terezi up there on the big mad-science tank. Cue the murderclown's diabolical monologue. This Flash sequence was embedded in the RPG game as a strong finish to the interactive page. You kind of knew it would end up this way. Actually, many of the games are played with a sense of dark dramatic irony where you know something bad is going to happen, but you're forced to march right along to that outcome anyway, so you are somewhat complicit in the unfortunate result. The Rose RPG at the end of this book is probably the best example of this.

Gamzee's negligent goatfather was killed before he entered the game, and was prototyped, as were all the trolls' lusii. This means goat-like forms show up in the chess monsters. Gamzee is sitting atop the tank of one such mutant beast, which almost entirely bears the traits of his aquatic goatfather. Is it a coincidence he has gravitated toward this figure while being his truest, most evil, clowny self? In some ways, due to parental neglect, his goat dad embodies his darkest tendencies, and perhaps the root causes for them. Yes, maybe this isn't "true" and he's just a piece of total trash regardless, but it's arguably true from Gamzee's warped perspective. In some ways this makes Goat Dad a compelling figure. We know almost nothing about him, but he quite possibly was legitimately monstrous. I'm fascinated by this fictional goat creature suddenly. Whoops, wait. It stopped. I'm not fascinated anymore. But it was an interesting feeling to have for about three seconds.

All the dialogue leading up to this is pretty good. It lets us know that Gamzee didn't just generically "snap" and is now an arbitrary murderous threat. There are some real cunning and calculation to his evil. Despite previously coming across as a bit dumb, and tone-deaf to the needs and concerns of his friends, his remarks here reveal a guy who was paying close attention all along and knows all these people quite well. He knows the insecurities and weaknesses to play to. He's just tormenting Equius using the fact that he knows he's all twisted up about class hierarchy, demanding that he kneel before his superior. But not in a way that makes it clear he will appreciate Equius's subservience, or reward him for it. Gamzee just wants to disgrace and defile Equius before he kills him, to make him reveal the full extent of his weakness as his final living act. To show Equius couldn't overcome his limitations even to save his own life, let alone the lives of his friends.

But later, the kind of sadistic cunning Gamzee shows here sort of gives way to a different kind of villainy. After he "makes peace" with his role as a figure of "religious destiny," that is, the guy meant to serve Lord English and help seed his early existence as Caliborn, he mellows out a little. There's a kind of sick, off-putting serenity he broadcasts as he commits his unpleasant deeds, behaving as more of a general agent of chaos rather than an active antagonist. He seems to delight more in wreaking havoc on the story as a whimsical surrogate for his master than he does in specifically causing his former friends to suffer. In other words, he gradually becomes folded into the greater villainous ensemble, which becomes increasingly preposterous the deeper we get into Homestuck.

#Youtube

1 note · View note

ap-trash-compactor · 2 years

Text

also, ziarian (full name irizi'ar'ianico)

i also approve, vector. because i accidentally made him too hot and now i get distracted my own fictional video game man.

he lives in a constant state of frustration and low-key annoyance with everyone and everything:

if you look close you see he has freckles. shara is in fact obsessed with the freckles but would never say anything because she's trying not to allow herself to be too unprofessional in spite of the fact that she did indulge in one dalliance. it was just the one, tho! just the one. she's not falling any further in than that, she's promised herself. which is why ziarian hasn't heard from her on his vacation post-Jadus' ship. (for shara's part, it's been awful since then. being there with someone she liked, someone she was worried about -- and the dark council forbid he was distracted by worrying about her, no, that would be awful, that would be impossible, no it's time to put that poor decision, and all the feelings that come with it, to the side --)

anyway main the reason he gets along with hexid, who he doubtless met at a shindig at shinnan's place, is not only because being an irascible murder machine is how copes with the fact that his desire to be a house husband is being thrawted ...

(examples of him being a bad mood boy who no can haz shara. honestly, a lot of his emotional problems might be solved if he gave himself permission to use swear words.)

anyway he gets along with hexid not only because, with his desires for his own life perpetually thwarted, he is always down to do some murders, but because he is, in his heart, also a self-indulgent hedonist, who likes red light districts (not that he's been while trying to court someone who is so... anyway. it's fine. it's fine.), likes hanging out in cantinas watching the dancers, and likes hanging out in casinos, playing slots, picking up odd jobs, amassing a collection of fancy cars, and just generally being a lazy, gluttonous, garbage man:

garbage man indulging his natural garbage tendencies when shara isn't available to pay attention to him

he does love animals tho. shinnan is letting him live in one of her extra rooms because asha asked her to, and he has amassed a little collection of creature friends to salve his loneliness:

shinnan doens't really consider herself a 'pet person' -- she's more into plants -- but she's warmed up to these guys and is actually quite happy to spoil them when ziarian is away. they're fast becoming the closest thing to kids of her own she'll ever have -- well, closest to grandkids, maybe. she does love and spoil chwayat and quinn's brood quite thoroughly, and seeing as these little beasties are sort of the babies of a member of their generation -- well, that line of thinking makes her feel old. she knows she will live a long, long time, drawing on the force as she does, if she even can die after being remade by her dear mother machine, but still. 'grandmother' isn't really a role she's entirely comfortable with yet.

but it's all well and good to have ziarian around, in any case. he has a biochem hobby, so he's happy to help take care of shinnan's plants. they were doing well before he moved in, but now they're doing incredibly well. all in all, Darth Nox is pleased with her darling niece's coworker. and she might put in a good word for him with that old Keeper fellow vis-a-vis giving that uptight pris of a young woman her hosueguest is in love with permission to step away from the workstation now and then. not that ziarian asked, but he really didn't have to. even talos picked up on it. khem also is also rooting for them but shinnan doesn't need to share that with anyone who isn't in her innermost circle; no one besides her and her closest need to know what a soft touch her morose monster really is. nor does anyone need to know how she knows that.

1 note · View note

girl-of-many-fandoms · 2 years

Text

Confessions // 1

Pairing: Derek Hale x Stilinski!Reader

Summary: Y/N showed up at Derek's loft for one purpose but in the middle of her visit some pieces of information are brought to light.

Warnings: none

WHOOP WHOOP!! In honor of my favourite show being brought back to life I'm adding it to my masterlist. Hope y'all enjoy this one & YES, I do plan on turning this into a mini series!

MASTERLIST

----

Screw you Scott

The door to Derek's loft slid open revealing the grumpy sour wolf who can't seem to put a smile on hisbface every once in a while.

"Don't you have school?"

"Yes but apparently Scott thinks that you need a babysitter so, here I am." Brushing past him, Y/N let herself in and headed straight over to his couch.

"Come in." Rolling his eyes, he closed the door and came over to block her view of the TV with his arms folded over his chest.

"You're not made of glass Hale, please step aside." Derek tilted his head to the side with his green eyes locked with hers, he wasn't planning on moving anytime soon.

"Why are you here Stiles 2.0?"

"Okay first of all, I was born first, ten minutes earlier to be exact and secondly you don't scare me, I'm not Stiles."

"Still doesn't answer my question."

"Twiddle-dee and Twiddle-dumb were worried about you, you know since you got shot with wolfsbane and you kept declining their calls." She reached for the half eaten bag of chips on the table and popped one into her mouth.

If it was anyone else barging into his home and eating his food he would've made sure they knew their place but when it came to her he just let her do whatever she wanted.

"You need to make better choices with snacks Derek."

"I didn't plan on catering to your needs, your highness." He snatched the bag out of her hand before joining her on his couch. Y/N sucked the remnants of salt from on her fingertips scowling at the brooding man.

"How's the wound? Is it still healing?" Y/N gestured to his abdomen where he had gotten shot and Derek hiked his dark Henley upwards revealing the completely healed skin.

"Good as new, why are you genuinely concerned?" He cooked his eyebrow teasingly and smiled when he heard the slight change in heartbeat.

Derek knew about her feelings for him but she never openly voiced it but instead, she chose to snap or throw a sarcastic comment his way.

Did he take a liking to the young woman? Yes, truth be told Derek had developed a crush on her but never told anyone about it. During pack meetings he had to keep up his facade of being annoyed with everyone but he always slipped when it came to her.

"Derek I have other things to care about, you are sadly not on that list." Although she had an excellent poker face, her irregular heartbeat gave it away. She was in fact concerned about him and he found himself falling for her a little more.

“Do I have something on my face?” Derek snapped out of his thoughts as she spoke, dabbing away at her mouth thinking that she probably had chip residue on her lips.

“Huh? Oh, no.” He inwardly cursed himself for staring at her like that.

Get a grip Hale, she’s a child

“For a second there I was wondering if you were admiring me.” If she only knew that he was in fact doing just that.

Derek could smell her change in mood, she’s nervous maybe even anxious? He’s making her feel like that just by the way he kept looking at her with those green eyes that she loves so much. She’s had a crush on the sour wolf for quite some time now but tried her best to bury it as there was no way he’d ever feel the same and not to mention, the obvious age gap between them.

“And why would I do that?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.” Derek adjusted himself on the couch to face her, placing his arm behind her on the backrest. Y/N’s breathing sped up and her heart was definitely hammering in her chest, Derek teasingly smiled at her at that detail. It took her longer than it should to figure out what he was smiling at and at the revelation, her face flushed red from embarrassment.

“You alright?” Derek bit the inside of his cheek to keep his composure as he continued his teasing just to see what she’d do. Y/N on the other hand kept switching her gaze from his kissable lips and green eyes until that little voice in the back of her head said fuck it.

Derek expected her to scurry away with some bullshit lie about having something to do but he did not think that she’d lean over to kiss him, she was eighteen after all. He returned the kiss, reaching up to cup her face in the palm of his massive hands. They were both engrossed with each other until the need for air became too much.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to do that.” Y/N pulled back from him, her eyes grew three times its original size at his words.

“I’m sorry, what?” Derek laced their fingers together and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“You’re going to make me say it aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

“I like you Y/N.”

“Well that answers the question of why you have a higher tolerance level with me than you do with the others.”

“That and the fact that I cannot stand your hyperactive spaz of a brother.” Y/N’s phone broke their moment and she immediately fished it out of her pocket.

“Speaking of the devil, yes Stiles?” Derek smiled at his incredible timing, it’s as if he knew they were just talking about him.

“Why is Jake asking about you? Is something going on between you both. Y/N I swear to all that is holy if you’re still crushing on that idiot I will smack you upside the head. Also, is Derek alright, you didn’t text me.” Derek’s ears perked up at the mention of some guy named Jake and Y/N tried her best to not laugh at his reaction.

“Jake and I are lab partners dude he’s probably wondering where the hell I am because we’re supposed to work on a project together and the sour wolf is fine, he’s back to normal.”

“No, no, Jake literally asked me if you were free this weekend and I told him to never ask such idiotic questions ever again in his life.”

“Hey! I am free this weekend, what if I wanted to go somewhere with him?” Derek rolled his eyes at her and she squeezed his hand that’s still locked with hers, she was only fooling around.

“Y/N I’d rather see you with anyone but that moron, okay. Even Derek still has a better chance than that asshole.”

“Okay and on that note I’m hanging up now-”

“Even Parrish has a better shot also, have you seen that man?”

“Goodbye Stiles.” Y/N hung up on her spiralling brother and focused on the man beside her. Derek had so many questions.

“Nice to know he considered me as a dating option for you and Parrish, I’ve seen the looks he gives you from time to time.”

“He is handsome but not really my style.”

“What is your style?”

“Tall, black hair, green eyes, nice beard, loves dark colours because it matches his soul, is an asshole to everyone else but me and cares deeply for those around him even though he says he doesn’t.” For the first time in what felt like forever Derek genuinely smiled at someone. She described him to a T.

“You know this isn’t going to be easy right, especially when Stiles finds out.”

“I know but I don’t care, I’m willing to see where this goes with you Y/N.” Y/N lazily raked her fingers through his neatly trimmed beard.

“Okay but for now, let’s try not to make it obvious that something’s going on between us whenever we’re in the same room with the others.”

“That’s fine with me but for now, I’m..stealing…as..many…of…these..as I..possibly..can.” Derek punctuated every word with stolen kisses, happy that he finally knew what her lips tasted like and how they felt against his.

The pair both know that they’re bound to meet some bumps along the way but they’re both willing to give a relationship a try.

----

Heyo, thanks for reading, hope you liked it! Also, if you're interested in being tagged in any of my future Teen Wolf fics let me know so I can start a taglist <3

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale x stilinski!reader #derek hale imagine #derek hale smut #stiles stilinski #derek hale x y/n #derek hale x you #scott mcall x reader

2K notes · View notes

colossal-fallout · 3 years

Text

[ Classified ]

The full report - Eren Yeager

The following report details all information on Eren Yeager. Contains NSFW content and reader must be over the age of 18 to view this document.

For your eyes only.

Name: Eren Yeager

Birthplace: Shiganshina

Height: 180cm / 5ft 9"

General

[ A1 ]

Appearance & Hygiene practices:

Eren's chestnut brown hair is always clean and fresh. Whenever he pays you a late night visit, he'll have most probably just gotten out of the shower. Coconut scented shampoo of sorts? Whatever it is, it smells so good.

Prefers showers over a bathe. He says it's to save time, but he spends a good 40 - 60 minutes in there, easily.

Once he's dry, likes to throw on jogger bottoms and a hoodie over his bare skin. His bare skin that is now so soft and scented as his favourite shower gel which is either tea-tree oil or Coconut.

If he wants to remain clean shaven, Eren must shave every 2-3 days. Sometimes he likes to grow it out but nothing ever past a long stubble.

Minimal body hair.

Trims the hairs on his pubic bone/lower stomach. Has pleasuring you in mind as he does so. Will take into consideration the friction against you.

Totally clean shaven testicles.

Eren's nails are short but that's because he bites them. [ see section A3 ]

Beautiful set of teeth. Brushes twice daily in a modern AU.

Eren adores it when you brush his hair for him. He finds it extremely relaxing as you massage his scalp. His eyes will close and a small, barely audible hum will emit from time to time.

Eren's skin care routine is pretty basic. All of the steam from sitting in his hot, frequent showers for so long seems to do him wonders - his skin is flawless and worthy of envy.

Due to the healing power of being a Titan shifter, Eren has no scars.

Eren has quite large hands with long fingers. He doesn't wear rings or jewellery as it reminds him of the burden of when he had to keep that damn key on him at all times. Will however, put up with a wedding ring.

[A2]

Body & Love language:

Eren is a pretty introverted person. His hands are usually tucked away inside of his pockets - be it either trousers or hoody/jacket.

He hunches a little too. Likes to feel hidden. He's had enough attention over the years and wants nothing more than to just shrink away in a crowded room. Or maybe, it's the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Brooding, moody exterior. Extreme "resting bitch face"

Shrugs a lot. At first glance, you'd think he was a moody teenager trapped in a grown man's body.

Likes to sit with his feet flat up on the chair with his knees splayed - you'll usually find him like this with an arm resting over a knee while the other is at a 90 degree angle pointing away from his hip.

Fumbles his hands together in formal occasions when he can't sit so casually or tuck them away.

Likes to drape his arm over you without touching you. His arm will rest above you on the top of the chair. A clear indication of "They're mine" and "I will keep you safe"

His hips will usually be swivelled in your direction, regardless of where you are in the room. A subconscious body language of sexual yearning.

Eren likes to hold hands with you when you're walking. He's not huge on PDA but likes the strong yet subtle showings that you're together.

Tends to rub his thumb over the back of your hand absent-mindedly when you do so.

His love languages include physical touch. Can get very needy and touch starved pretty easily. Not in a overbearing way, but even just a run of his slender fingers through your hair is enough to keep him going until the two of you are in a more private setting.

[A3]

Bad Habits & Tendencies:

As mentioned above, Eren bites his finger nails. His toe nails too. It's pretty gross to be honest.

He never does it in public, but he has been known to do it in front of you when he feels comfortable enough to do so.

Get's very fidgety when irritated or annoyed, which is pretty often. Especially if Jean is around.

Short temper. He's learned to tame it more over the years where he doesn't show it so easily. But everyone has their limit and when his is reached, his yell is booming and pretty intimidating.

During an argument with you he has been known to raise his voice, but it's not the frightening roar you've heard him unleash on others before.

Always apologises to you after he's calmed down. Even though it wasn't that bad.

If you two ever have a bad falling out, will lock himself away for days. He'll be pissed at himself for letting it get so bad and depressed that you two are having such problems. But he'll do anything he can to fix it.

[ A4 ]

Common misconceptions:

Obviously everyone has their own cannons and opinions. But I don't personally see Eren as being an abusive partner. Yeah, he has his problems and treats his friends like shit but there's a reason for that we'll probably see in the last chapter. If you're worthy enough to pierce that cold and distant shell, you're a very special person and he'll treat you as such.

Eren actually has a large heart hidden under that huge chip on his shoulder. He cares and loves the people around him unconditionally. Even to the point of carrying out mass genocide to protect them.

Still... He does have a dark side to be weary of at times.

Even though he's gross while in Liberio, usually Eren is actually pretty clean.

[ A5 ]

Food & Drink:

In a Modern AU Eren loves fancy coffees with the weird names. The longer to pronounce, the better. He just likes the fact they give him energy and the fancier ones taste good.

Due to not having meat for so long, a good ol' fashioned beef/lamb stew is his favourite.

Doesn't drink in canon.

Modern AU, his alcoholic beverage of choice is bottles of beer and craft ales. Sometimes is a sucker for red wine.

[ A6 ]

Modern Au:

Eren wears loose clothing. Hoodies, loose jeans, those baggy cardigans too.

His texting style is spam over one long message. Especially if he's pissed off. He's too impatient to sit and type in paragraphs.

Drives a black car. Don't ask me what type, I don't know cars. But it's black, 'kay?

It also has "black ice" air freshener inside.

Likes to ride quads and mopeds along fields. He's a thrill seeker. Rollercoasters, bungee jumping... you name it he's game.

Eren plays the guitar. He took lessons for it but after about a year he just went his own way and self-taught.

If he sees a guitar at a party, he will pick it up and play it. He won't sing though.

He actually hates singing. He finds it embarrassing.

Always has in his air pods/earphones.

Likes any sort of music that is catchy.

Probably streams on Twitch. He won't talk much though.

Could have a wide range of jobs. Coffee shop, could be in college, might be a ride attendant... who knows? It's anyone's guess what Eren is doing. He doesn't talk about himself that much.

Romance & NSFW

[ B1 ]

Crush:

Eren would definitely be in denial he has a crush on you at first.

• “Does y/n seem different to you?”

Armin; “No…? In what way?”

“I dunno… Just, different.”

• His poor stubborn brain would be ticking for weeks as to why he suddenly wants to be near you a lot more often and has urges to touch you, even if it’s just a slight brush against your arm.

• Will find any excuse to do extra training with you

• Once he FINALLY clicks on as to why he’s had these feelings, he’ll be pretty knocked off his feet and a little annoyed at himself.

I’m here to kill the enemy...

• Still though… Can’t seem to keep himself away.

[ B2 ]

First kiss & general kisses:

After the initial denial and keeping himself away, he'll just decide one day he's had enough of feeling this way and decides to to something about it.

He won't shove himself onto you. He'll do some sly probing to see if there is any indication of reciprocation.

Knowing Eren, he'll indirectly piss you off or insult you. He didn't mean to. He's just lacking social skills. Man aint smooth.

You'll slap him, probably, where he'll keep his head away from you for a few seconds, realising he's pushed you too far. Whichever side you palmed him away, he'll stay.

He'll slowly return his gaze to yours before gently holding your arms, apologising and planting his lips onto yours.

His general kisses are quite firm and forceful. Not in an aggressive way, but a "god I want you so bad" way.

Always either slides his arms around your waist or cups your face/head.

He tastes like sweetened tea <3 / Coffee in a Modern AU

Loves coming from behind and snaking his arms around you, nuzzling into your neck when you're doing something. Doesn't like it when your attention is away from him for too long.

When he's feeling soft and tender, will dance his nose with yours and catching your mouth in a caress.

When he's super turned on, he'll suck your tongue, bite your bottom lip and kiss anywhere he can.

[ B3 ]

Sex:

Ha ~~!

Eren is up there with the best when it comes to sex. He knows what he's doing and he does it well.

Extremely skilled with his fingers and tongue. He'll have you crawling the walls with hysteria as he likes to tease you throughout the day. He more than makes up for it, though.

Gropes, nips, kisses, licks, bites, flicks... anywhere and everywhere he can.

Is the most vocal when you perform oral sex on him. Will groan so deeply, his entire body will vibrate.

Dirty talk is this man's second language.

"Look how desperate you are for me." / "Look how desperate for you you've gotten me..."

"Do I feel good like this?"

"Am I making you feel good baby?"

"You're so good at that. Fuck, such a good girl/boy"

"S'so fuckin' tight."

"You're my little fuck thing, aren't you?"

"You're perfect."

"I love you..."

Are some of the many things you'll hear while he's fucking you.

He doesn't really have a favourite position. He'll gladly take you anyway he can. If he's in a rough mood, he'll bend you over the sofa, take you up against the wall... But if he's feeling more soft he'll make slow, passionate love to you for hours.

He does have a strong soft side at times.

Dominic Dominant. He loves seeing you totally at his mercy, the power over you the most arousing thing in the world to him.

Big daddy dilf vibes. He knows what he’s doing and he’s fucking good at it too.

The only time he’ll sub is if he wants to be lazy - letting you ride him and use him to your heart’s content.

Dirty talk. It can get pretty degrading at times. If you’re not into that, he respects that boundary.

Will absolutely ruin you.

Low-key loves it when you claw his back in hysteria. He thrives knowing he can send you absolutely insane, and he can just heal the claw marks in a matter of seconds. Sometimes even during sex (which is the hottest thing ever)

In an AU modern, he would love to fuck you near a large mirror or record you both getting at it to watch at a later date.

A lot of hissing, humming and low groaning, especially when he’s close to unloading.

Likes to watch you masturbate, putting his head close and observing intently. Loses his shit if you moan his name while doing so.

Hair pulling is his overload language. Will tug fistfuls when he gets too turned on.

[ B4 ]

Kinks:

The risk of getting caught. He likes having risky sex in semi public locations. Makes a game of how loud he can get you to moan, knowing someone would probably hear you.

Light Degradation. When he’s in a rough mood, he doesn’t mind calling you a few names. Nothing too extreme. And if it’s not your thing, he’ll respect that boundary.

Loves a good ol’ 69. Having you on his face with your ass in view is just… *Chef’s kiss*

Speaking of ass, he loves to bend you over too, allowing himself in nice and deep with a great view and something Juicy to grab.

[ B5 ]

Aftercare:

Aftercare with Eren isn’t anything special unfortunately. He’s another who gets sleepy after sex.

Won’t ignore you though. Often lazy pillow talk is on the cards and telling you how much you mean to him and how beautiful you are.

Will run his fingers across your scalp to soothe you.

Also will kiss any bite marks or finger bruises he’s left behind and ask if you’re okay.

Relationship with loved ones & becoming serious

[ C1 ]

Friends & Family:

When Eren meet's your friends family he will be polite yet quiet. He wants them to like him but he won't pine for their approval. If they like him, awesome. If they don't...? No big deal.

Same goes with your friends. He'll stay quiet until spoken to at first, but once he's been eased into conversation, he'll flow with it a lot easier.

Again, he'll be polite but don't expect him to kiss ass, because he certainly wont.

[ C2 ]

Marriage:

You couldn’t actually believe Eren had proposed. Although he was down on one knee in front of your very eyes, your mind just wasn’t accepting it. Folks and onlookers watched with bated breath, awaiting your answer. He sure kept this surprise hidden well…

Of course, you said yes and he picked you up by your waist in a spin, colliding his lips to yours.

And now here he was, watching you walk down the aisle, a lump in his throat and his heart racing.

You looked gorgeous, like something from a fairy tale.

And of course, he looked as handsome as ever. His suit was smart and his hair was up in its usual bun.

Armin is his best man, of course; who is standing and beaming with pride.

Eren holds back his chokes and tears as he reads his vows;

“Y/N… From the first time I ever laid eyes on you, all those years ago, I knew you would be in my life forever. Back then, I didn’t think it would be as my wife, but God I am so glad it is. I’m sorry for my stubbornness and irrational behaviour when we were young. But despite that you still loved, and stood by me and for that I’ll be eternally grateful. I vow to always stand beside you, whatever the world throws at us. I vow to hold you when you need support. I vow to remember how you always had my back no matter what. And I vow to always love you, with my heart and soul, until the day I die and after.”

The room erupts in cheers and tears when you seal your kiss.

The reception is wild.

Everyone is drunk (except Levi) and dancing. Reiner and Connie are dancing like weirdos, Reiner's blazer removed and at one point Connie is on his shoulders.

Sasha has too much to drink and is spewing in the bathroom.

Mikasa can’t stop crying with happiness and pride.

He carries you to your room afterwards where you spend all night sealing a special bond that will never be broken.

[ C3 ]

Children:

Eren has a soft spot for children, believe it or not. As seen before the expedition to the forest of giant trees. He sees his old self behind the innocent glint of unaltered admiration within a child's eyes.

He's not super into child play though. He wont pull weird voices or funny faces. He'll sit at their level and speak to them like they were anyone else. Obviously, watching what he says around them.

If they're unchecked and acting themselves, he'll become quickly annoyed as they wreck havoc around him and will have to leave the room or he'll get too agitated.

If his s/o discovers they're pregnant he'll seem to take it well. But inside he's falling apart and freaking out. He won't ever show it to them, but he doesn't know how he could be a father. Would he be like his own? Would he be able to be a good figure to look up to? What if he fails? Is it selfish to bring a child into this cruel world?

He'll be shocked but understandably so. After after a couple of weeks of self-reflection and brooding, he'll start to feel better about the whole thing.

More protective over his s/o than usual. Will make sure they're eating, drinking, resting and god help you if he finds you doing something you shouldn't such as trying to lift something heavy.

Will hold your hair and rub you back, as well as bring you water while you're having your morning sickness.

"Babe? It's four in the afternoon. How come you're still sick?"

"Eren, it's called morning sickness but it can happen any time."

He'll click his tongue. "....That's a dumb name, then."

The first time he feels the baby kick within you, his heart absolutely melts. His eyes enlarge and you could swear you saw them soften with that spark behind his emerald greens he had when you were younger.

His large palm is warm against your stomach as he feels around, the little flutter of your child hitting against his skin making him flinch in surprise at first.

"Woah..." He'll gasp in amazement. "They're already so strong. Hey, y/n? Doesn't that hurt?"

"Sometimes." You'll laugh softly.

He'll gingerly place his face to your skin, a little embarrassed he's doing this; but he feels the need. "...Don't hurt your mom, okay?"

As your pregnancy progresses and you get larger, he will not leave your side. If he has to, he'll be worrying and you'll be occupying his mind. In a modern au, he'll constantly call and text and will get Mikasa or Armin to check in on you often.

Will be so gentle during love making. He's terrified he'll hurt the baby.

One of the only times you've seen Eren panic in his adult life is when your waters break.

You'd gotten up in the middle of the night to pee. Climbed back into bed and felt a strange pressure, followed by a pop. Then a warm gushing sensation. You wait a few seconds to settle your own panic before you nudge Eren awake.

"Eren..."

He'll bolt up, confused. "What? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?"

"Eren, my waters have broken."

"Shit. Okay. Shit. What do we do? Shit." He'll leap out of bed and throw the lights on. You get to your feet where more water will start to drop onto the floor. "Shit, shit. I'll get the bag. Do you need help getting dressed? Okay, where's my jacket? WHERE'S MY JACKET?!"

"Eren, honey I need to you calm down."

"Okay, sorry. I'm calm. Shit. Shit..."

Will hold your hand with a worried look the entire time you're in labour. Has water and snacks on hand.

Will watch in amazement as your child is pushed into the world. This magical moment changes something in him, but right now he's not sure what that is.

They will bond immediately. As soon as he holds your son/daughter he can't take his wide gaze off them.

They're inseparable.

Any doubts of being a bad father is washed away as he takes them under his wing and teaches them about the world.

260 notes · View notes

heyovivi · 3 years

Text

Gwyn and Azriel and Prejudice

Hello, back again with some possible theories and this time it's about one of my favorite Valkyries, Miss Gwyneth Berdara and some more controversial subjects such as the prejudice that surrounds her and other characters.

Now I'm sorry I haven't been posting a lot--though I'm sure not people even notice seeing how we have a large community of readers who also come up with some amazing theories! But I needed to slow down on posting my wild theories and imaginations because I felt that some of my readers who read my fan fiction were starting to catch onto the plot of "A Court of Shadows and Scars"--but I've been waiting to post about this one because I think it's important and because I've already addressed it in my story.

Moving on.

Gwyneth Berdara.

Although she was very much a newly-introduced secondary character to Nesta's story she is oh-so important and beloved by our reading community. Gwyn has stolen the hearts of many with her wit, charm, and inquisitive personality--and not just readers but her fellow characters as well.

All except a very few including Merrill and the main antagonist of ACOSF, Queen Briallyn--though there are many others I could mention, such as the Illyrians, but my main focus will revolve around Merrill and Briallyn and their prejudices against Gwyn along with other characters with their own prejudices such as Beron and even our own brooding shadowsinger, Azriel.

Yes, Azriel.

Now we know the story of Gwyn and we also a know a bit of her past as well.

Gwyn's grandmother was once a river nymph who seduced a High Fae male hailing from the Autumn Court and fell pregnant with Gwyn's mother who was sent to be raised at the temple of Sangravah because she couldn't dwell in the rivers of Spring Court and was too wild to be confined in the Forest House of Autumn Court.

"My mother was unwanted by either of their (Gwyn's grandmother and grandfather) people. She could not dwell in the rivers of the Spring Court, but was too untamed to endure the confinement of the forest house of Autumn. So she was give in her childhood to the temple at Sangravah, where she was raised..." (Gwyn Berdara, A Court of Silver Flames, pg. 316)

Now what we know about nymphs is extremely limited in the ACOTAR world. But in Greek mythology--from which they hail from--nymphs were idolized as guardians of nature. They were revered as the spirits of specific natural features and were often identified with parts of nature such as the Oreads (mountain nymphs) and the Hamadryads (tree nymphs).

The name "nymph" comes from the Greek word that means "young woman", and so naturally these beings were considered to be female. Indeed, they were represented as young, beautiful, musical, amorous, and gentle youthful creatures. And while there is some question about whether they were immortal or not - Hamadryads in particular were linked with the lives of their chosen trees - it is believed that they were extremely long lived.

A beautiful, ever-young creature that inhabits the lovliest of all wilderness places including clear lakes, streams, and crystalline caverns. They do not like any form of intrusion but there is a 100% that a nymph will be friendly if approached by another good creature. Nymphs are exceptionally intelligent and are very rarely found.

Gwyn's lineage of nymph, according to Greek mythology, would be categorized as a Naiad, the nymphs of streams, rivers, and lakes. The Naiads, or water nymphs, dwelt beside running water. Like their cousins, the Nereids and Oceanids of the oceans, the Oreads of the hills and the Dryads of the forests and trees, they were usually sweet, benign spirits. Naiads, especially, were helpful and healing, nurturing fruits, flowers and mortals. Yet the youth Hylas who went to draw water from a pool was lured by the nymphs into the water and was never seen again--meaning that despite being creatures of nature they also possessed darker roles in certain legends.

I interpret this as Nymphs being hostile around creatures who were unwelcome in their lands for being ill-intentioned.

Many times in Greek mythology, nymphs were often seen as the symbolism of beauty and love; such as Aphrodite--and because they were always describe to be beautiful and graceful women with soft, sweet appearances they often drew the attention of the Gods creating legends of romantic affairs and infidelity.

Their very beauty caused the Gods to lust after them to a ravenous extent, making the Nymphs sometimes turn to the Goddesses for help. However, not all Goddesses were kind towards the nymphs--such as Aphrodite or Hera who grew jealous of their beauty when their very beauty and natural loveliness challenged the fidelity of their lovers.

In this case, let's assume that role of Gods, of higher beings, were the High Fae in the ACOTAR realm.

In the ACOTAR realm, it's easy to assume the nymphs are somewhat--if not--wholly the same as they are described in classic literature. When Gwyn tells the story of her grandmother she states that her grandmother seduced a High Fae, resulting in the birth of her mother. If this is the case then I think I can understand why characters such as Merrill and Briallyn look down on her lineage so much because again, Nymphs, in the eyes of major Goddesses such as Aphrodite and Hera, were essentially home wreckers (even though many confrontations with Gods and Nymphs were not always consensual).

With the reputation of being male-thirsty seductresses, nymphs are looked down upon as lower-beings, that and their lack of immortality (more often then not Nymphs linked their lifelines to an object in nature: a tree nymphs links their life to a tree, water nymph links their life to a stream (but I suppose that makes them immortal?)).

With this devious reputation placed on her lineage, Gwyn is often the butt of insults with being call half-breed and all by the likes of Briallyn and Merrill.

"But you made it easy for me: you went right to her house in Windhaven. Spared me the trouble of luring you. I let those witless Illyrians take her and the half-breed as an amusing bonus." (Queen Briallyn, A Court of Silver Flames, pg. 721)

"I am descended from Rabath, Lord of the Western Wind...Unlike Gwyneth Berdara, I am not lackey to be dismissed." (Merrill, A Court of Silver Flames, pg. 315)

Merrill glanced between her and Gwyn before saying, "get back to your work, nymph." (Merrill, A Court of Silver Flames, pg. 315)

Okay--so Merrill doesn't specifically call her a half-breed, but dismissing her as a lower race and simply calling her "nymph" is basically comparable to an insult.

Now, that we've got Gwyn out of the way, let's move onto Autumn Court, more specifically Beron.

Beron is an ass--plain and simple. He is the personification of a conservative abuser and is honestly one of the most disgusting characters I have ever had the displeasure of reading. However--I suppose the problems he brings do push certain character formulas forward such as Eris and Lucien. Such as executing Jesminda for simply being involved with Lucien and for being anything but High Fae.

"Lucien fell in love with a faerie whom his father considers to be grossly inappropriate for someone of his bloodline. Lucien said he didn't care that wasn't one of the High Fae, that he was certain the mating bond would snap into place soon and that he was going to marry her and leave his father's court to his scheming brothers...His father had her put down. Executed, in front of Lucien, as his two eldest brothers held him and made him watch." (Tamlin, A Court of Thorns and Roses, pg. 160)

I don't think I need to go ahead and explain Beron and his prejudices against those who are not High Fae--his actions speak enough as is. But what I do want to do is go back to the specific wording Gwyn uses when explaining how her mother ended up in Sangravah, she says: "She could not dwell in the rivers of the Spring Court, but was too untamed to endure the confinement of the forest house of Autumn."

Confinement.

Not dwell. Not live. Not prosper. Confinement.

Now, we haven't navigated Autumn for all it's beauty and culture. We've only seen the Autumn Court through the eyes of Feyre when she is traversing through the courts in ACOWAR.

But I wonder how he approached with dealing with those who are not High Fae? What if the Autumn Court is much like the Summer Court where the court works around a system of class where High Fae are put at the top and anything but is put at the bottom? Therefore assuming that the treatment of such beings is cruel and unjust, creating a defining line between the races in which they can never reach equilibrium.

If that is so that brings me to the idea that many courts outside the jurisdiction of Night Court have assumed systems such as this, making there a limited amount of options for people like Gwyn's mother to prosper peacefully. Because we already know that the main reason why the first war with Hybern happened was because Hybern demanded to keep human and low fae as slaves, placing High Fae at the top. Spring sided with Hybern, because remember Amarantha and the former High Lord of Spring were close friends, Summer Court most likely fought to keep slaves as they still continuously oppress lesser fae, so I imagine it was worse for humans. And let's be honest, Autumn remained "indifferent" but one look at their current High Lord tells me that they weren't that indifferent--not unless Beron wasn't the ruling High Lord at the time.

So with that in mind, Gwyn and her family couldn't flee to Summer, nor Spring or Autumn. Night was probably never an option--as their reputation of being dark and gloomy more than likely frightened the idea away. Winter Court was obvious seeing how it's a winter wonderland of frozen lakes, streams, and rivers. Then there is Day Court which based on their current High Lord and aesthetic, is a desert land of sand and heat--with little to no water supply for any Nymph.

However there is one court that still remains. Dawn Court. From what we know they are a more than neutral court among the courts of Prythian and mostly value innovation. Geographically, Dawn is a lush, eternal countryside rich with the weight of summer upon it. The towns were red-roofed villages with sparkling rivers--a perfect destination for any relocating half-nymph- half-High Fae born child. However we also have to take into account the time period of when Gwyn's mother was born. Remember, prior to ACOTAR, Prythian was under the rule of Amarantha for fifty years--and even if that wasn't the case Summer was under the rule of a High Lord who didn't harbor the same compassion to change the unequal class system like Tarquin did when he assumed his place on the throne. Autumn was being ruled by Beron by that time already who'd probably have her confined. And Spring was under the traditional rule of Tamlin--and despite that Gwyn's mother would've still be considered as unwelcomed by the other nymphs.

If you take the time and current dilemma of Prythian--then there was really no where to go but Sangravah--putting into question the prejudices certain courts have against beings that are of the Low Fae variety.

I predict that despite being beautiful, charming, and compassionate, Gwyn still faces so much prejudice for simply being 1/4th nymph--which to the High Fae is a stain in her lineage to be a descendant from such a deviant being.

Now, let's move onto Azriel.

Azriel, as we all know, has his own conflicts with the Illyrians. Of course, that is to be expected, especially after learning of his backstory with being abused by his family and then later forced into training with the Illyrian army. The only comfort he had ever received was from the likes of his chosen family and so I believe he is projecting his own, personal experience of being an Illyrian into his hatred of Illyria--seeing the Illyrians as no more than a means to end due to their constant reluctance to move on with the times.

Don't get me wrong, I love Azriel. But I think a big part of his character is accepting who he is. He is an Illyrian--and I believe that with the combine power of him, Cassian, and Rhys they can bring the kind of change that Cassian had only ever dreamed of to Illyria. Yet, his own prejudices against his people hold him back and that's probably because he hasn't fully faced his trauma and instead skitters back at the mention or thought of it. I think if Az was healed he wouldn't be so reluctant to visit Illyria or wish for it's demise.

"A rare visit from the shadowsinger. Both myth and terror. Az looked just as displeased to be here, but he'd come when I asked...It was healthy, perhaps. For Az to sometimes remember where he'd come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget." (Rhysand, A Court of Frost and Starlight, pg. 222)

"Cassian rolled his eyes. But they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother than the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them." (Cassian, A Court of Silver Flames, pg. 42)

Now, moving onto the conclusion, finally. If Gwynriel's story was to happen, I think there is a sufficient amount of evidence to claim that Azriel's plot would revolve around the Illyrian conflict.

I'm just going to drop down this link: https://yazthebookish.tumblr.com/post/648449405425516544/the-illyrian-conflict-being-set-up-in-acosf-along

@yazthebookish highlights textual evidence that hints at a possible story arc for an Illyrian plot line because yes, there is still so much to uncover in Illyria and although I believe a large part of that was suppose to be Cassian and Nesta's story I also understand why it could go to Azriel.

Azriel needs to learn to accept his race, and the Illyrians need to learn how to accept change. I think they can learn something from one another and I believe Gwyn will play a role in Azriel's adventure. Do I think she's going to be the face some enlightenment in Azriel's journey--no. That's stupid. And if you twist my words, read it again. I believe because of Gwyn's past with prejudice against her and what she is, she can level with Az and understand him in a way that can potentially help him develop better as a character. Yes, she might be there for guidance or to give Azriel counsel, but in the end I think it's Az's job to tackle down the Illyrian conflict while Gwyn, with the help of Azriel, tackles down her own, whether that be discovering her lineage or where she came from or even healing from her trauma as a SA victim.

Please be respectful and leave your thoughts in the comments.

#gwyneth #gwyn berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #gwyneth berdara #azriel berdara #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #a court of thorns and roses #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #beron vanserra #gwynriel #azriel and gwyn #gwyn x azriel #prythian

76 notes · View notes

babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

The Vessel [Pt. 6]

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem! Reader

Summary: Yennefer doesn't like you, and now you know why. Are you going to do something to make her believe that it's not how she thinks like, or are you just going to go with it, because secretly you know that what she just said to you, is in fact, the truth? Geralt is finally beginning to open up to you, but for how long?

Warnings: None

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

"How about this, [Y/N]?" Yennefer stood in front of you, her fingers running through the fabric of a pale, cream coloured silk dress, with dark red borders. If there was one thing that you could bring yourself to commend Yennefer for was her taste— the dress she was looking at was fit for royalty.

Yet, out of spite, and out of the fact that you had been dragged out on early morning, woken up from your sleep to accompany the mage on her quest to get you a nice dress, when she had the power in her to magically do those things pissed you off. And then, there was the fact that you were to be presented, on full display, at a celebration she had organised. You— the vessel— a ruined woman— who was carrying a Witcher's baby, for her.

You had a lot of clothes that you still somehow managed to fit into, as your belly was a little rounder, and one could see the outline of a burgeoning baby bump, if one was to look carefully. But tell that to the Mage, who was right now standing in one of the village shops, looking for a dress for you.

"Um, it's good," you whispered, crossing your arms over your chest— you just wanted to leave.

"Good that you like it. Once my baby grows within you, you're not gonna be able to fit into those shreds anyway," she said, eyeing your plain dress in an almost distaste, and you suppressed the urge to scoff.

"We'll take it, how much for it?" She then turned towards the woman, curling her lips, regarding the older looking woman who smiled wide, excited that she was getting some business as she informed the Mage that it would be ten coins.

Once Yennefer had paid off the woman, she tossed you the dress, and you groaned, catching it midair, and just like that, you began following the woman again, like a lost puppy.

Finally, the two of you were out of the shop, and you felt like you could breathe again. You waited a few seconds, for the way she had brought you here, you assumed she will do the same— open a magic portal, grab your hand and pull you in. When she didn't, you frowned and turned towards her, questioningly, only to find her staring at you, studying you.

"Uh, what?"

"Nothing, love."

There it was; that fake sweetness, once again, ringing at the back of your mind, prompting you that something bad was to come.

"I hope you know that Geralt's never going to look at you the way he looks at me, right?"

You glared at her, your lips parting in surprise but she placed her index finger to your lips before you could even say anything. To her, you were like a little lamb, taking their first steps.

"I don't want you to end up falling in love with a man that doesn't know how to reciprocate those feelings."

You pursed your lips together, your eyes unwavering when Yennefer looked into them. Her fingers still rested on your chin, holding your face. In truth, you felt like a cornered animal.

"Don't worry, Yennefer. I won't. Geralt is.." You thought for a bit, your mind suddenly turning off, and the words that you chose next somehow popped into your mind just randomly— words that you regretted saying almost instantly the minute they escaped your lips, "Used goods."

Her eyebrow shot up in amusement, and her lips curled into a side smirk. Her thumb began to run along the side of your face, your neckline and she smiled, her other hand reaching out and rubbing over your belly lightly, "You're funny. You're very funny. Big words coming out from a woman's mouth, when you practically tossed your body to the Witcher for some coin."

"Yennefer, to be fair—" Your breathing hitched, as you took a sharp breath, and jerked her hand away, taking a step away from her, your hand protectively latching to your tiny bump, as you began stroking over it as though comforting it, "I tossed my body for some coin. You tossed the man you claim to love to fuck another woman. I think we both know how similar the two of us are, in many many ways."

Even the beautiful woman standing in front of you couldn't hide the scowl that formed on her face for a second. She lost it and immediately, turned away, flustered, still scowling, for you could hear her breathe heavy as she began to conjure up the portal, so the two of you could get back.

You felt odd, like a fish thrown out of water amidst the flurry of mages, all around you. You knew many of them, mostly by name— you could see Tissaia de vries— you had only heard about her, and now she was right there, in front of your eyes. The funny part of it all was, that this celebration was for you, or for the baby you were gifting them with, but no one even bothered as to give you another look. It was all Yennefer.

You reached out, your fingers clasping against the glass of sparkling water in front of you on the table, where your plate of exotic freshly cut fruits lay untouched. You pulled it up to your lips, your eyes circling around, mostly in distaste at what you saw around you. Women— which you weren't sure if they were just illusions created by spells, or real, dressed in nothing, their naked bodies on display — walked around.

On one end of the hall, you saw Jaskier. He was surrounded by a flock of richly dressed older looking women, and you rolled your eyes at him, listening to him as he sang the infamous ballad, toss a coin to your Witcher, which suddenly reminded you of the brooding Witcher you knew. You looked around, your eyes scanning through the crowds until you spotted the familiar white hair, standing out from the rest of them.

He was standing in a corner, drinking ale from a silver pitcher, looking as bored as you were, which was ironical as this was technically his celebration too. You stood up, your glass of water still in your hand as you gracefully made your way to him, pushing your way through the naked women, frowning at the casuality of it all. Geralt spotted you making your way towards him so he shifted slightly so he he was now directly looking at you.

"Not enjoying your own celebration? It has naked women." You asked, giving him a ghost of a smile, trying to make small talk with him as you fixed yourself right next to him, leaning against the wall.

He grumbled something under his breath, typical Geralt of Rivia style, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself as you started looking around.

"You don't think I agree with Yennefer on everything?" He suddenly said, his voice low and heavy, that caused your head to turn towards him, "This is a waste of time."

"Well, Witcher—" You smiled, tight lipped, bringing your glass up to your lips as you took a sip, and started looking at Yennefer, who was in the center of the hall, mingling with the guests, and nodded, "If there ever is anything that you and me both can agree upon, it's this. This indeed, is a waste of time. Although—"

You eyed Jaskier; who was now laughing at something one of the women said, however his eyes were fixed on a naked woman standing by the table, her finger stretched as she beckoned towards the bard to join her, "Jaskier seems to be enjoying himself."

Geralt grunted, his gaze following yours until the two of you were watching the bard, and the whore disappear through one of the hallways in the back, and Geralt shook his head.

"Why? Does your friend embarass you?" You smirked, your hand flying to the side of your face, pushing the loose strands of hair behind your ear.

"I thought Jaskier's your friend," Geralt smirked back at you in retaliation, and this time, he didn't even try to hide it.

"Yes, he is but he doesn't embarass me, at all."

"Hm," Geralt brought the pitcher of ale to his lips and took a sip of it, a droplet of ale running down the side of his lips. For some reason, he found himself wanting to smile, but he had trained himself over the years not to.

"Well, I'll let you be. I need some air," you waved off, as you whispered, letting the empty goblet you were drinking water from rest against the table where Geralt was as you pulled yourself away from him, your arms instantly clothing around your upper body. Geralt nodded his head, as he watched you walk off.

If it wasn't for the moon shining right on top of you, you wouldn't have been able to see a damn thing as you stepped out of the structure from the back. It was silent, except for occasional high pitched screaming from somewhere inside the stone structure, and you wondered if it was Jaskier, not that it was your concern.

Crushing the dried leaves underneath your feet, you stepped out until you were standing by the cliff, staring at the village at a distance, looking like glitter scattered over a black canvas, the tiny lights glistening.

You unknowingly took a step backwards, only to turn rigid and almost freeze, when your back hit something sturdy, yet you knew it wasn't a wall, it was strong but it felt soft against your back and you could feel someone's breath on you, signalling you that it was definitely a person.

You almost screamed, when Geralt grabbed a hold of both your arms, in an attempt to steady you to your feet, for you were technically, on a cliff , and one slip of your footing can lead you to tumble all the way down the humongously high mountain.

"It's just me."

You didn't realize how your breath had accelerated, your chest heaving up and down, and it was only the Witcher's voice that finally managed to calm you down a bit. You took a slow step around, turning so you were face to face with him, your bodies almost touching; at least you could feel your tiny bump rub against Geralt's abdomen, but he didn't seem to mind.

"You're not immortal," he murmured, in a husky voice.

You raised your brow, but did not attempt to step away from him. You didn't know what it was— maybe it was the warmth that his body was radiating, that you seemed to find comfort standing so close.

"Do you think there are any monsters on a cliff top?" You asked, looking up at him, wondering how his eyes were so — bright — you could literally see them glowing in the dark, the moonlight falling over his face, highlighting his features.

"Not all monsters are dangerous, some people are too."

"Touche," you smiled, still looking up at him, until there was silence, and Geralt cleared his throat, stepping away as whatever the moment was, finally ended.

Geralt kept standing by the edge of the cliff, his back now turned towards you, giving you a clear view of his sword as you lowered yourself against a rock, both your hands resting on your lap. After a few seconds of silence, the Witcher finally turned, his eyes meeting yours as he turned, but only for a brief second until he had walked up to where you were, and he was looking down at you. Almost silently, as though he had asked you to shift, you scooted slightly to your right, and the Witcher sat down too, his side brushing against yours.

"How are you?" He asked, in a low voice, the gentleness in his voice urging you to draw your lips into a smile as your fingers began toying with each other.

"I'm okay. I needed to get out. All that, I can't tolerate it. Makes me want to throw up. Not because of the baby but—"

"Hm, she can be a little too much at times," Geralt interceded, almost immediately, and you nodded, engulfed by the famous Witcher silence once again. Involuntarily, your hands flew up to the side of your arms as you began rubbing them, staring at the sky above you until you felt an urge to look at him.

"Geralt?"

He turned towards you, regarding you with a bit of glimmer in his already bright irises.

"Where would you go? I mean, where would Yennefer take the my baby.. your baby after the birth?"

He frowned a little, parting his lips slightly, letting his head tilt to one side, as his hand flew up to his temple, his index scratching it briefly, until he relaxed once again.

"Well, Yen, she would be staying here. You can stay too. If you want to be close to the baby. I'm sure Yen would appreciate the help."

"No, I guess I'd go back to my own life, take care of my shack back in the village. I'll maybe get a job at the tavern, will bring in some coin—" You drawled, staring at a distance when Yennefer suddenly walked up to where the two of you were, her dark eyes fixed on the two of you.

"Geralt, my love. There are people that would like to meet you. Am I interrupting something?" Yennefer was almost glaring at you, and Geralt cleared his throat, rather loudly, as he stepped up from the rock he was sitting next to you, and walked up to her, taking her hand in his.

"No, I thought something was wrong. Just wanted to make sure—" Geralt turned towards you, "— that everything was fine. Cliffs can be .. dangerous at night."

You pursed your lips, your eyes falling to their entwined hands, and when you looked back up again, you saw the sorceress regard you with a tiny smirk egging against her lips.

"Yes, Witcher, everything's fine, I don't need you following me around like I will need help all the time," Bitterness laced your words, and you swear you saw a look of hurt flash in his eyes just for a second before the usual broody look took over and he regarded you once more before the two of them turned around and started walking away.

Well done, [Y/N]. You frowned as you kept watching them walk away, Geralt's arm wrapped around Yennefer's waist, her head resting against his bicep.

The Vessel Taglist:

@kawennote09 @viking-raider @raspberrydreamclouds @pterodactylterrace @singeramg @historianwithaheart @miss-emilia-cavill @ayamenimthiriel @crazynocturnalkiki @xxxkatxo @coffeebreathy @fanaticnae @kmuir1 @little-jana @pineapplemama @auds24 @sassy-pelican @bitchynicole @cavillsim @ragamuffin285 @hista-girl @oliviali0930 @introvertedmouse @madbaddic7ed @libbymouse @nerra75 @maxineswritingcenter @superawesomegeek @waifu4lifeu @funalpaca

Want to be added to the list? Plz let me know via my ask box, inbox or comments. ✨

P.S There are a few blogs I'm unable to tag for some reason. Many apologies for that. 🥺🤍

#geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia works #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia #the witcher x y/n #the witcher #the witcher x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill

290 notes · View notes

shadowturtlesstuff · 3 years

Text

Enchanted

finally finished this!!! im so happy with it, and will be writing it in thomas’s pov as soon as possible and perhaps part 2?

Sleep evades me. My mind keeps returning to last night, specifically to a certain person I had met last night. I pull the covers higher, burying my head as I finally gave into my wandering mind.

I stand alone, needing a break from my aunt Amelia. The music was beautiful, a soft sound that filled the entire room. The party itself was decorated in a magical way, the columns in the building encompassed in vines, the tables with floral centrepieces. It was a mixture of whimsy and magic, yet no one seemed happy to be here. Everyone I spoke to was forcing smiles, men faked laughter as they believed this was not a party but a way to make business deals and enforce their own reputation. It was absurd how no one was just admiring the effort people put into making this perfect. It was the same every month, I'd walk to the edge of the room and watch. To calm my nerves, to explore the different flower pieces, the musicians and the flickering candles from the chandelier. The gowns women wore only once to try and show their wealth, whilst I tended to wear the same, as it fit the magical atmosphere this room desperately tried to make people see, yet they were too blind by their greed, the need to prove themselves to everyone to just simply stand back and enjoy themselves.

My cousin Liza seemed to be in conversation with Dacina, the host of the party, someone I had spoken to a few times, each being more enjoyable. Her calming demeanour and charm always lifted my spirits. Her family organizes this ball once a month, her father hates it but makes a lot of business so it is always left to her to plan and design it. With the help of Illeana and lots of their servants they always make this place ethereal. Her brother, Thomas Cresswell, only ever shows up for a few hours then leaves, only being able to handle the faking niceties for so long. Dacina told me of his tolerance, or lack thereof, to society. She speaks highly of her brother, as I once did, yet I have never met Mr.Cresswell.

The varnished wooden floor slowly gathers marks as couples danced. How I longed to be one of those dancers, being swivelled by someone I loved. They would look at me as if I was the most magical thing in the room, with a soft smile and adoration in every word he whispers to me. I would be his equal as we spun around, the world fading into nothing as we held each other. Alas, those dreams are not likely for someone cruel enough to carve the dead.

I snap out of my fantasy as a group of older men walk towards the buffet near me. They talk loud enough so everyone can hear, shockingly talking about work. I roll my eyes at them and look away back to the dance floor. The lights above cast shadows, making the scene feel like my imagination as I sit by a fireplace to read a romance novel. If this was a novel, there would be my love interest here, watching and finding the courage to say something. There are families at the table, children clinging to mothers as the men sit and discuss whatever. My father, uncle and aunt sit together in a seemingly civil conversation. I look for Liza again, deciding I should probably stop brooding in the corner but as I look for her my attention keeps going back to the men at the buffet. Not by choice, but by their obnoxious decision to shout their conversation.

“A woman led the strike, ridiculous, she had to go,” I heard an oldish man say, followed by murmurs of agreement, “these strikes are out of hand, demanding we pay more, absurd notions.” The man is none other than Mr. Birling, a notoriously cold hearted man, much like dacianas father apparently, both of whom value money rather than people. Even their own families. The group of men who looked the same as him, slightly wrinkled face, greyish hair, miserable faces with hints of conniving schemes being plotted against each other. Friends until one of them was earning more money and was more successful, then they were enemies again.

The men were in a heated discussion about their business and from what I can dissect from their ramblings is that they fully believe themselves to be hard working men, a rarity these days, and they must do what is necessary for their companies. Meaning, budget cuts, strikes from workers, firing people, and any horrible decision in the name of money. I refrain from rolling my eyes, or going over to berate them.

“Mr. Birling would not know what a hard day's work is.” someone says quietly behind me. His voice is smooth, confident, and whilst I agree due to what I have learnt about the birling family and the conversation I had just overheard, I still wouldn't say it aloud with him being this close. Not that he pays any attention to anyone but ‘hard working men’.

I turn my head slightly, the man behind me is tall, a smirk playing at his lips. His suit is finely tailored in a dark grey, with a peach tie. He takes a step forwards and stands at my side, staring out into the crowd, a glass of half drunk champagne in his hand. I return my gaze to the crowd. “Whatever makes you think that, surely you heard him talk about how much he works,” I try to suppress my own smirk and I also sneak a glance at the strange man. He merely takes a sip of his champagne.

“Right of course, his words, I shall listen more closely next time.”

“As you should. You wouldn't want to misinterpret someone's work ethic and make a fool of yourself in front of a stranger.”

“You consider me a fool now?” he turns to me now, hands pressed against his chest in fake offence. His brown eyes meet mine as I face him. His sharp cheekbones feel familiar, but I can't place where from.

“Yes. how could you consider someone such as Mr Birling, a man with such talent and tolerance of others, a man who clearly built his company and was not handed it by his father, how could you with a straight face imply he doesn’t know hard work.” we stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst out laughing. He has such a pure laugh, we seem to be the only sound in the room. People around us stop and stare, upset two people are having fun at a party. The stranger leans against one of the columns, disrupting the vines slightly. Yet he doesn't seem to care, as he slowly starts to regain his composure from our outburst.

Mr. Birling is one of the men looking at us with full disdain. He perceives us as two kids who do not understand life, he specifically tells his accountant that there is something wrong with us if the rumours are to be believed. Children of science. Outrageous. Especially a girl. A girl, not a woman. I ignore his pathetic whining, intent on not letting him ruin my night and return my focus to the stranger. Who, I realise, is someone who enjoys science. His face is more solemn now, having also overheard Mr.Birling. He quickly recovers and plasters a smirk on his face, a spark shines in his eye and I can already tell this won't be good.

“I want to meet this ‘girl’ who led the strike, perhaps she could use some help. I mean, all they ask is fair pay,”

“But fair pay is absurd. Completely and utterly absurd. Why should the wealthy share their wealth to those who ensure it.” he finishes for me. The men that run this world will end up being the reason it fails. We share a look, full of understanding and he lets out a sigh. Now we're talking about work and politics at a party.

“Aside from those charming men, how are you enjoying the party?” He gestures to the men around us and I snort. Charming was one word for them. Being with him and trading remarks felt like passing notes to each other, telling secrets during class even though we are meant to be listening to the teacher. I can't help but think I know him, and by the look in his own face he knows me. Perhaps we met but didn't have time for a full conversation like we are now.

“Mostly entertaining, the place is spectacular as always, the people are..” I searched for a word to describe the people, as well as my family. I love them dearly but they can be insufferable. “An interesting mix. My family is dramatic, so I escaped to the edge to peace and quiet, which apparently isn't possible. "I give him a pointed look but he takes no notice.

“My family is also dramatic, and I came for peace myself but found myself captivated by you, specifically how you watched the crowd, listening, and how you curled your fists in an attempt not to go and publicly humiliate the poor man. Which, by the way, I think you should've. Would've made the whole thing worth it.” He takes a sip of his champagne and I nearly roll my eyes at him. Of course he'd want that. From what I can tell he isn't someone who enjoys society and has no problem saying it. I also think about the families in attendance and which of those are dramatic. The only person I can think of is Darci's brother, whom I've not met but heard about his nature over wine with her.

“If I was merely standing here minding my business would you still have found me captivating enough to talk to me? Or is my appeal in my anger?”

He downs the rest of the drink and straightens himself taking a step towards me. I cross my arms, impatient but he gives me a soft smile. “I've been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, I always see you here at the edge, always. My eyes find you instantly in any crowd. Transfixed, captivating. It was an added bonus to me when I saw the fierce nature in your eyes up close, I knew I was right to want to befriend you.”

Silence falls as we both take in his words. I feel bad, not being able to figure out who he is. His honesty is admirable and makes me smile, as well as blush. I can feel heat rise to my cheeks. Just as I begin to rectify the situation by asking for his name, a man comes behind

me, he’s around 40 probably, and looks at me horrendously in an attempt at a smile. I recognised him from earlier, he's one of the men that spoke with Mr Birling and that alone makes me instantly want to recoil.

“Can I help you sir?” I asked and I can hear my own clipped words, yet somehow he does not. The smile widens and he looks me up and down. Then he offers his hand to me and I realise he wants to dance. With a woman half his age, that he has never met.

“Miss Wadsworth, dance with me?” more of a common than a question. Since I am already highly aware he doesn’t like when females have opinions or say no, I refrain from rolling my eyes and just walking off from him. Instead I take a step back, so I'm by my new friend’s side and smile widely.

“I'm afraid I already promised the darling Wadsworth a dance, we are just finishing our drinks first.” As if to prove my point he drinks the last of his drink, mostly to hide his smirk. Something else the man doesn't seem to notice. His face drops, but his pride makes him believe he can stand there, waiting for me to run to him. There is an awkward silence until I feel hands reach down and take mine, they are warm and make me jump slightly at the contact. Not in a bad way, not in the way I would have if it had been the man in front of me with his gaze like fire as he looks at our joined hands as though he has a right to be mad about it. I feel my own fire burn as he stares, so I tug his hand away from the man. I need to just escape into the dreamlike nature of the dancefloor, as well as thank my saviour and learn his name.

He leads me to the dance floor, nearer the edge and his hands slip down to my waist as I find his shoulders. His touch is hesitant but reassuring. Somehow he looks calm and terrified, as though he never expected to dance with me but never wants to stop. I can't help but feel the same as we begin to move. My skirt swirls around us and we say nothing for a while as we both calm ourselves and let the music envelope us. In a way, this is as close to my daydreaming as I might ever get. Being here on the dance floor with someone who isn't twice my age and the definition of misogyny. We dance as equals, neither of us truly leading but letting each other float around each other. We're sure of our movements and demand nothing from each other. It is a weird calmness that settles. We are strangers as far as i know, and yet we dance as though we have known each other our entire lives.

“You are a delight, miss Wadsworth.” he breaks the silence, somehow louder than the music for me, yet it's quiet. Almost like he didn't mean to say it aloud.

“How do you know me?” my voice matches and i feel bad asking, but i need to know. My tone is not accusing, and his face only burrows in confusion for a second before he smirks at me. A smirk I'm seeming to become familiar with.

“My sister Dacina speaks highly of you.” my eyes must expand as he laughs softly. That's why I recognized him. He has the same structure as Dacina, sharp cheekbone and soft skin. Perfect complexion.

“So you are the infamous Thomas cresswell?” this time I smirk and his eyes widen.

“Infamous? What on earth have you heard of me?”

“Your sister has lots of opinions on you.”

“Of course she does. Whatever she has said is most likely not true.” He blurts out and I laugh at his relationship with his sister and him wanting to impress me. “Unless she told you I am utterly irresistible, charming, quick witted and incredibly smart.” winking at me he sends me into a surprising spin and my hands land on his chest. We've sped up slightly, yet our heartbeats are both faster than necessary and I can see a hint of a blush creeping up on his cheeks.

“She did mention you have an overly large ego. She'll be happy to know I agree with her.” I feel his hands tighten at my waist slightly and I watch his curls fall down in his face as he shakes his head. I'm delighted by this turn of events. Daci is wonderful, and if this is the Thomas that I get to see, not his reputation, then I shall try and keep this in my life for as long as possible. His spark in his eyes shows how he may think the same. Also, if daci, liza and ileana are with Thomas, then i might have the most fun I've ever had in my life.

His voice slides through my thoughts, but also reinforces them. “I am sure she failed to mention how big of an ego she has. Honestly, Darci is worse than I. Have you met Illeana? She will surely agree with me on this.”

“I'm sure she would, I've also heard you are a scientist, what do you study?”

“The dead. Much like you and your uncle.” There is so much certainty in his voice, no resentment or the usual tone I hear so I gift him an earnest smile.

The song ends, and we stand, hands still on each other for a second longer than we should. Just as I go to remove my hands from his chest I feel him pinch my sides lightly. Then his warm hands slip from my waist and I wish more than anything to dance again.

We go to return back to the column near the buffet, where we first spoke, and as I take a step I feel him move so he's pressed at my back, his hands finding mine. Even though we are gloved, even though no one can see our hands due to how close we are, and how many people are moving about, my heart pounds at his bold nature. I adore it, so I squeeze him and keep my head facing forward as I lead him off the dance floor. We settle back, Thomas letting go of my hand to pick up two glasses of champagne and hands me one. We both take a long sip, perhaps settling our brains or making it worse. Well see.

“You look,” he pauses, as if trying to find the right words, brows furrowed slightly as if he was reading a dictionary, “enchanting.” he finally finishes, gifting me a rare smile it seems. No longer does he smirk at me, but shows me a genuine look that I want to have painted as it is the best thing I have witnessed. Heat rises to my cheeks as I look down at my dress. Someone at least understood what I was going for, with a pale peach colour, sparkling bodice that runs along the length of the skirt. The long sleeves adorned with tiny gemstones, golden to match the accented colours of the hall. In response to Thomas I look back up at him with my own genuine smile, perhaps some of the only true smiles to be shared this evening. His suit fits him perfectly, showing off his defined features, his tie a pale peach as well. I assume Dacina helps him, as her dresses always astound me with the details. There are tiny, miniscule gems on his tie, that snake down and remind me of vines.

“You look,” I act the way he did, scanning my brain for something that fits, handsome or charming doesn't do justice but I'm sure whatever I use will only boost his ego and be used against me, so I settle with: “bedazzling.”

“Bedazzling?”

“Thomas, I study the dead, I have to look closer than one should at things, so of course I noticed your tie. Henceforth: bedazzling.” The air shifts back to our teasing tone and he smirks once again.

“You are the only one to notice, except Daci of course, nothing gets past her. Am I correct in assuming you like the tie?” Despite his teasing I feel a hint of worry as if I wouldn’t like his tie.

“I adore the tie cresswell, everyone here should be weaning ties with tiny jewels.”

His face falls as he scans the crowd, eyes narrowing slightly as he takes in the groups of men. “I cannot tell if you are being serious with me or not, but I agree nonetheless. The men here are awfully drab, boring, plain. It's insulting to us really. Daci puts so much time into making this beautiful and these people do not see it.” He is shaking his head. I agree, I have heard how much work goes in and despite my effort to help she insists that I do nothing but enjoy the party. I have a sneaking suspicion though that Liza helps. The flower centrepieces are her favourite, and whilst that might be a coincidence I know how stubborn and convincing she can be.

“I do. I love her parties. I always find myself standing here, watching and noticing all the changes from the month prior. Like, last month she went for more of a red theme, with red roses as the centrepieces, little red accented chairs and carpets. Whereas this month is more of a forestry vine, hence the vines around the column.” I point as though they are a secret thing you need to search for even though they are obvious. Yet he turns anyway and runs his finger down the length of it with his adorable face set at a soft smile. Thomas might have been there when she got the idea, or placed them or he might have placed them himself and is now remembering it.

My gaze finds Thomas and he looks at me, baffled, and I feel the blush creeping back up. It is not the same confused look that I get when I tell people my love of science, but one of intrigue. As if he could listen to me talk forever and not get bored. It's as if he has never thought anyone would notice such things about his family's party. “Enchanting.” is all he whispers to me. Then he clears his throat, an ever so soft shake of his head as though once again the words were meant for him and not us both.

I stare out at the crowd again. I'm sure my family will want to know where I've disappeared to, I normally do not leave them this long. Liza I'm sure will want to know why I danced with Thomas. Yet the thought of leaving him makes my legs leaden and my heart sink and anchor me right next to him. Im completely wonderstruck, and feel ill have a permanent blush, especially when i look at his stupidly handsome face, his quick smirk and small smiles that feel special. It is odd, I've only heard stories, spoken to him briefly and danced, yet I have enjoyed his company immensely and hope this never ends. I want more dances and to steal more smiles to keep forever. I want to make fun of people together, and dance.

I go to steal a glimpse of him, expecting to find him staring at the crowd like I was but his eyes are on me. “I have to leave,” his abrupt words anchor me in an entirely different way, “I mean, I want to stay and I'm sure you want my amazing presence always now Wadsworth but I have to wake early. New job. So, my darling, I shall see you tomorrow.” Thomas hesitates for half a second and begins to walk away. I watch him go and say goodnight to his sister and then leave. His words fill my head. It’s reassuring to know he enjoys my company as much as I do.

I bolt upright in my bed, the lights, music and memories falling away as I focus on the last words he said to me.

I'll see you tomorrow.

What does tomorrow mean? Does it mean he has a job where he thinks I visit? Will he be making an effort to befriend me? Does he know my family? I am so confused. How had I not caught these words sooner? Perhaps he wants to tell me he had a terrible time, that he doesn't like my presence. I'm on my feet without realising, pacing back and forth, the cold air hugging me close. I wish he was in front of me now. I wish he would whisper the words enchanting again. I wish I knew what was happening in a few hours that warranted him saying those four words. I run my hands over my face, untie my hair and let my curls fall over my shoulder, brushing away the colder ever so slightly. I'm ridiculous. Four tiny words sent me spiralling. I climb back into bed, my hair fanning out around me and the blanket returning warmth back into my system. Immediately my mind returns to Thomas, his face forever in my mind. Even if tomorrow could be the last time I see him, there is a chance that it is just the start.

Enchanting…

Those words fill me with confidence that yes, Thomas might become someone special to me. That perhaps our dance sparked something and now all I wish is that I can tell him how enchanting he is.

@fangirling-again @kittycat2187 @goatahoan @city-of-fae @purplecreatorhorsewagon @boredbookwormgirl @goddess-of-writing-wars @loveyatopluto @lovecakeandmore @yikesitsmaddie @bookscressworth @androgynousdeputylawyershoe @fandomtakeover @throneoftsc @the-hoofflepooff

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cresswell #thomas and audrey rose #Thomas Cresswell #Audrey Rose Wadsworth #audrey rose #kerri maniscalco #enchanted #taylor swift #stalking jack the ripper #Hunting Prince Dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil

35 notes · View notes

nikatyler · 2 years

Note

☠ : Are there any recent/daily thoughts they have about death or dying?

☆ : Would they ever wish upon a falling star? If so, what would they wish?

☢ : Describe a thought or dream that would cause them to have a mental meltdown.

For Caleb Vatore

Oh, I haven't answered anything for him in ages! I hope I'll be able to get back inside his head haha. But actually, that shouldn't be difficult since this week has been a Raleb week, headcanons for them have been driving me insane and it's twice as bad because I don't actually have time to pay attention to it. Side note, this makeover that I did a week or two or idk how long ago is really really growing on me

Also, warning, it gets dark, much darker compared to the usual tone of the legacy, so proceed with caution, please.

☠ : He thinks about it a lot. No, don't get too concerned, not like, you know, that, he's not going to, you know, leave, he's just the brooding type of guy, he has a lot of thoughts about the meaning of life and all that 😅

But, he also thinks about death a lot in relation to Ross's old accident. That was traumatizing for both sides. But now, many decades (in the story) after it happened, Ross actually seems to be a bit more over it, he's made some progress and slowly started fearing sun less, he's trying to go outside again, while Caleb is terrified it will happen again and, once again, he won't be able to do anything about it. He doesn't know what he'd do if he lost him again.

Don't get me wrong, he trusts Ross with pretty much anything, but this...this is just too much, he'd rather not risk it, he'd rather only see Ross go out at night. Of course, they argue about that sometimes.

Not sure if this is the right way to put it but it's mostly because Caleb tends to dwell on the past, it's more difficult for him to move on and heal from the painful experiences, whereas Ross is better at letting go. Way better compared to Caleb at least.

☆ : I don't think so. I can't really explain why, I just don't feel like he would.

☢ : Oooh boy. Well I have something about that in my drafts. It's actually the other way around, based on Ross's nightmare, but just switch their places and you have your answer, it's the same. I'm not sure if I should post it though, it's really sad and really dark and no I'm not okay. Anyway, uh, that's one thing, I'm sure you put two and two together and I can confirm, yes it includes death.

Another thing, I mentioned this years ago but I don't really talk about the backstory I have for Caleb anymore, so: He didn't have a good time when he first became a vampire, to put it lightly, and to this day it haunts him sometimes in his dreams, it feels too real and he can't wake up, he has to go through it again. Thankfully, Ross knows how to pull him out of it.

Also I'm fairly sure I just murdered myself with my choice of music I was writing all this to. Excellent. Someone resurrect me, I have an exam tomorrow. Last one though!!

Thank you so much for this ask, and once again for the other one too. It's been dark but I really enjoyed writing all this down and sorting out all these thoughts and ideas.

#reason 5464367 why i desperately need to take ross's story and turn it into something more than just a sims gameplay story: this #this doesn't go at all with the tone of the legacy but downplaying it and keeping the themes lighthearted would just feel wrong #idk. i guess i chose the wrong medium for telling my stories haha. but sims is so fun #ts4 #sims 4 #breeze nsb legacy extra #ross vatore #death mention tw #*caleb

11 notes · View notes

maplecornia · 3 years

Text

chapter 22

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 4.36K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: our first full introduction to all of BTS! I hope you're all excited ^^

Why did there have to be a meeting today of all days?

Yoongi scowls in the back of the car, trying his best to work on the small music app he’s downloaded for free on his phone. Letting out a small growl, he throws the phone aside, frustrated and annoyed.

“Absolute trash.” He snarls, staring ahead with nothing but malice in his eyes. The driver flinches a bit at the dark aura emanating from the back seat, and slowly rolls up the little partition glass that separates the two.

You know...just in case.

Yoongi notices the small act of distance and rolls his eyes, scoffing. He doesn't have to apologize. He can have a bad attitude if he wants. His schedule was supposed to be completely free today, a day where he could work on the album quietly. It was supposed to be a productive day, one where he could hole himself up in his studio and work and work until he made music that was perfect for their comeback.

Perfect for BTS.

Narrowing his eyes, he mutters a string of curse words under his breath for the 7th time that morning.

Then he got the call. That there was an urgent meeting for BTS to attend. A meeting that would affect the future of the company.

Running his hands through his hair, he tries to refrain himself from punching the car window out.

"What the hell is that even supposed to mean?!" He screams in aggravation, causing the driver on the other side of the partition to jump, startled. Not paying any mind to the driver currently struggling to restart his heart, Yoongi sighs, positioning himself on the seat so that he's comfortably lying down. Looking up at the ceiling with his soft, sparkling eyes, he tries to calm down. See things in a brighter light, try not to care so much. It's just...things are so frustrating to him.

All.

The.

Time.

Raising his hand to cover his eyes, he tries to remember a time when things had been so hard. He remembers training, debut, remembers the struggles of rising to the top, remembers injuries, exhaustion, remembers quarantine and tireless motivation…

Each moment seemed worse than the last. Every time they conquered a new struggle, another presented itself. As though they were walking down a road filled with multiple storms. A road that was destined to tear them apart, scatter them and leave them for dead.

Suga didn't think it would be so hard to leave. They were only gone for 2 years and yet by the time they got back it was almost as though the world had either forgotten about them, replaced them, or turned against them. Smiling bitterly, he raises his dark eyes to the ceiling once more, his hand curling into a fist at his side.

"You really fooled us didn't you...?" He mutters, his voice soft, but cold. Shivering with forgotten remorse. His hand rests itself safely over his eyes, shielding himself from the world. Trying so hard not to lose himself, he fights back the tears, barely able to struggle out the one word he's been holding back for so long.

"ARMY…"

Closing his eyes, he fails to catch one solo tear that falls, trailing a lonesome streak of wet painful memories across his soft ivory cheek.

He doesn’t remember the rest of the drive to the studio, choosing instead to block everything out and focus on releasing the dark cloud shrouding his mind. He’s learned how to deal with the pain, how to erase it, ease it safely and securely back into the inner corners of his mind...his heart. It's an endless procedure, falling and picking the pieces back up again. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times he may lock them away...they always come back, stronger and worse than before.

At least he’s learned to keep it inside.

At least he can safely hide.

And pretend everything is alright.

As the car pulls to a stop, Yoongi seriously considers skipping the meeting and staying home. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like crap. Maybe then he’ll be able to forget...at least for a while. However, as soon as the car pulls up, the driver immediately opens the door and cuts the ignition. Yoongi groans from the back seat, glaring up at the ceiling just as his driver opens his door, and nervously waits for him to exit.

Muttering under his breath about how some people are such pussies nowadays, Yoongi reluctantly sits up, gathers his things and exits the car. Paying no mind to the nervous driver, he stares up at his company building. His face hidden in a shadow, he bites his bottom lip, his hand clenching around the strap to his backpack.

Since when has he regretted coming here?

Since when was he afraid to see what may lie on the other side?

Shaking his head free of such thoughts, he groans, the dark cloud surrounding him only growing. Today’s just a bad day, he really needs to pull himself together. Sighing, he rubs his hand over his face before heading towards the building. Each step seems to weigh him down, blur the world around him, bring him further and further into his mind.

A dark mess of music notes and compositions.

Of torrents of pain and broken promises.

Of hidden fears and memories.

The mind of a man past his breaking point.

But then he hears the voice.

“Yoongi!”

Just as he’s opening the door to the building, it calls out from right behind him. That one voice...that one sweet cacophony holding brotherhood and love, is enough to draw him back to reality. It’s enough to break the hold the darkness had had on him. Smiling softly to himself, he turns and meets his eyes with a soft steady look of his own.

“Hoseok.”

Jhope smiles broadly at the mention of his name, and finishes running across the distance to his hyung. Clapping his hand around his shoulder he chuckles a bit as they walk together inside. Yoongi smiles at him a bit, but looks away before Jhope could notice.

If he was being honest, any one of his members have the same effect on him. Every one of them...the hidden parts to the family they have struggled so hard to build...they make everything okay. They make everything worth it.

If Yoongi were to suffer…

Then it would be okay.

As long as it was all for them.

“Hyung, why do you think PD-nim wanted us here this early?” Hoseok asks, breaking his hold on his friend in order to stretch as he yawns. Yoongi doesn’t answer, brooding a bit over how his work got interrupted once more. First it was Namjoon, over a stupid assistant, now its Bang Sihyuk?

“Whatever it is, I hope he has a good reason for interrupting me.” Yoongi mutters darkly under his breath, startling Jhope a bit. Jhope flinches, and noticing the change in Yoongi’s mood, steps away a small distance, chuckling nervously.

“Were you working on something important?” he asks as they walk inside the elevator, headed to the office on the top floor. Yoongi scoffs as he presses the button and the elevator doors close.

“I sure hope it was. It was for our new album, which is due no less than a few months from now! Namjoon and I still haven’t even gotten the beat down for the title track...and now this?! What could possibly be more important?” Yoongi sighs, collapsing against the cool metal walls against the elevator. Cold and indifferent, he stares at his warped expression in them, wondering if that’s enough to protect himself.

But...

What does he need to protect himself from?

Jhope regards Suga with a soft look, almost pitiful. He’s found that when he gets like this, sometimes it’s just best to leave him be, to let him work it out on his own. But right now…

Is this really the best way to solve things?

The look on Yoongi’s face is familiar, and yet different from all those times before.

Hoseok finds that he can't read it, he doesn’t recognize it. Something about that…

Scares him.

As the elevator dings, and Yoongi immediately steps out into the hallway, it takes Jhope a moment to follow suit. Silent, he watches the back of Yoongi, trying hard to understand him, figure out what’s going on with him. It frustrates him that right now, when he needs him most is when Jhope has no idea how to help him.

Can he help him?

Biting the inside of his cheek, he looks at his feet as they make their way to the meeting room. He knows that ever since they were separated, ever since the military enlistment, no one has been the same. Once beloved by the world, they found themselves facing the fear of being forgotten. Of entering a world where no one cares about who you are...only how strong you can be. An honorable service, but a taxing one, something that would change a person.

And so it has changed Bangtan.

For Yoongi, it drove him further into himself. Into the depression of darkness he had tried so hard to avoid. Without his sources of light, without that grasp on hope he had before...he found everything fading away. He found himself fading away.

How easy is it to find yourself again?

How easy is it to turn everything back to how it was before?

For anyone who knows...it’s near impossible.

So he’s trying, he’s trying his hardest to turn it into something that he can live with. Into a strength he can look back on and say he grew from. Another obstacle that he has defeated in his pathetic excuse he calls a life…

But what can he do right now?

Except fall deeper and deeper into the darkness which becomes so alluring to him. He finds himself longing for it, he finds himself wishing to end it...because what is he fighting for anyway? He already reached the top...and now he has to make his way back up again? What is that supposed to mean to him? How is he supposed to deal with that?

They said they would stay with them.

They said they would wait for them.

But they lied.

They moved on, they forgot.

Was everything they ever did…

Did everything mean nothing to them?

Entering the meeting room the pair of them are greeted by noise. The familiar noise of joy and laughter Bangtan carries with them everywhere, just happy being with the other...no matter how many hardships they may face nor how much the darkness may cloud each of their minds...as long as they're together, nothing else matters. Yoongi can’t help it…

He smiles.

It happens on its own accord, without warning. It's just...seeing them, seeing how happy they are despite everything makes him feel a bit of happiness, a little ray of joy, a little speck of pride and amongst them all he finds what he’s been looking for all along.

Hope.

The one thing stronger than his fear.

“Yoongi! And Hobi hyung! You guys made it!” Jimin practically barrels into Yoongi as Jhope closes the door behind the two of them. Laughing like a maniac, Jimin squeezes Suga so tightly that it's hard for him to pry him off.

“Seriously Jimin, you saw me just yesterday, you act as though it’s been years.” Suga sighs, placing his backpack in one of the many chairs in the meeting room as Jimin pouts. Jhope chuckles at his expression, rubbing his hair affectionately before following suit.

“It feels like it’s been years! Have you forgotten that we only got back a few weeks ago? I’ve missed our hugs--” Yoongi places his hand expertly on Jimin’s face, stopping him as he moves in for another hug. Growling, Jimin gives him a glare and Suga raises his eyebrow.

“What was our deal about hugs?” Jimin pulls away at the ultimatum and dramatically deflates into the chair next to Yoongi as he sarcastically recites the “deal”, deepening his voice and flattening it as much as he can in order to match Suga’s.

“One free hug a day...any other extra will cost you.” While Suga rolls his eyes, he can’t help but crack a smile as everyone else in the room laughs along and Jimin sits up in the chair, chuckling to himself at his great impersonation. Well...great in his eyes. Shaking his head, Yoongi looks around at the room, smiling at the familiar faces he finds meeting his own.

There’s Jin, who hasn’t stopped laughing, his unique laughter carrying through the room, half hurting everyone’s ears, and half bringing them joy and happiness. Yoongi always forgets that it’s actually possible to miss that strange windshield laugh.

There’s Taehyung who sits next to Jin and rolls his eyes a bit at how hard he’s laughing, before chuckling softly to himself in quiet happiness. Yoongi still can’t believe that there was ever a time he didn’t cherish Tae as much as he does now.

There’s Hobi who has just settled into a chair right next to Yoongi and laughs that contagious laugh that strikes hope and joy into even the darkest of hearts. Suga still remembers when that laugh first entered his life.

There’s Jimin who has just tackled Suga into another hug before dancing away and laughing almost manically. Yoongi lets him off the hook, smiling softly to himself because if he were being really honest...he would want those hugs every day of his life.

Then there’s Namjoon, the one who watches over them all, a small but distant smile present on his face. As Yoongi raises his eyes to him, he can’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia.

His first friend.

His best friend.

Perhaps the only one who could understand him and yet…

He always seems so far away.

Namjoon, as though feeling Suga’s gaze on him, slowly flickers his eyes over to him and is startled by what he finds.

He sees the darkness shrouding his dear friend's mind. He sees the cry for help. His heart pounding with worry and trepidation, he bravely meets Suga’s deep conflicted eyes and tries to pick them apart, solve them as though they were a problem only he could untangle. He hasn’t seen this face for so long, he hasn’t seen this kind of fear in his friend before. His chest constricting, he almost wants to hold onto Yoongi and hold him tight in his arms until he makes everything better.

As though it were his job to make everything better.

His brow crinkling with concern, he opens his mouth in order to address him, but an outburst from Taehyung who is looking out into the hallway cuts him off and the connection is broken. Yoongi almost immediately looks away, leaving Namjoon to continue to stare at him, in deep thought.

"Where's Jungkookie? Why is he so late?" Tae is asking as he leans back in his chair to stare out the see-through glass that encases them inside the meeting room. Jimin, coming up behind Tae, almost makes him fall as he pushes the chair down so that Tae meets his eye.

"Wha…" Taehyung begins but Jimin cuts him off.

"That's rich coming from you Mr. MickeyD." Jimin snorts at the reference to the soaked bags Tae brought as a peace offering yesterday, before letting go of his chair and leaving Taehyung to teeter slowly to a stop. Jin, picking up on the let's tease Taehyung memo nods and leans forward in his chair as though invested in the conversation.

"Yeah, where were you yesterday? You took an hour to get here TaeTae…" he coos, reaching forward to touch his hand but Tae pulls away grimacing. Jin laughs before pulling away and Namjoon rolls his eyes, ignoring the small smirk growing on his face.

"Stop it guys, he was helping Yen, my new assistant manager." Namjoon explains as he pulls out his phone to check any new notifications. "She fell during the afternoon rush in the lobby yesterday and hurt her ankle. Tae was helping her to the hospital. That's why she's not coming in today."

At that comment, Jimin's face goes a bit cold, and he glances at Tae in the corner of his eye. Tae nods frantically in agreement to Namjoon's statement almost as if he were clearing his name, and Jimin can't help but feel a pang of disappointment.

Tae used to tell him everything…

So why does Namjoon know this and he doesn't?

It wasn't that hard to explain...he would have understood...so why?

Why couldn't Taehyung talk to him instead of having to turn to RM?

Tae swallows hard to see if they all believe him, his heart pounding a bit fiercely in his chest. That was partly the truth...but Namjoon doesn't know the whole story. Nervously glancing at Namjoon in the corner of his eye, he can't help but fidget a bit.

The only way he was able to keep Yen home was to get the all clear from RM. And in order to do that...he had to tell him that you were hurt. And so that's exactly what he did...it just wasn't entirely the truth.

Looking down at his hands, he holds them tightly, faintly remembering how your hands felt in them. If he told Namjoon about what happened, who knows what he would have thought? Besides, Taehyung doesn’t want to tell anyone about that day. He doesn’t know why, he has nothing to hide but…

It's almost as if he mentions it to someone else…

It’ll become theirs and not his.

“In any case, we’ve been waiting long enough...where’s BangPD anyway?” Suga wonders quietly, not bothering to hide the frustration in his tone.

“Good morning to you too, Yoongi.” At the voice, the 6 of them freeze, and slowly turn toward the door, which was closed once before, but now occupies three significant figures. Suga tries hard not to wince, but as he meets BangPD’s dark eyes, he can’t help it. The other members seem to shrink due to the tension rising in the room as the door closes behind the newcomers. This isn’t exactly a situation they would like to be present for.

“Jungkook!” Jhope cries as he scans the three faces, and sure enough there he is standing attentively behind BangPD. He smiles a bit as Jhope calls his name, and waves to them but when BangPD walks into the room, Jungkook follows closely behind. The third figure, a tall and slender woman, closes the door behind them.

Namjoon glances towards her a bit curiously, trying to place where he may have seen her before. As she sits in a chair near to the door, a reasonable distance from the rest of the others, she glances towards him as well. As their eyes meet, Namjoon barely has time to notice the small flecks of gold circling in her brown eyes before she looks quickly away. Raising his eyebrow, he shrugs before turning to BangPD who is setting down a few papers and documents in the head chair of the meeting room.

“Sir, what exactly is going on? Why did you ask Jungkook to text us all to meet here? Is it something to do with the album?” BangPD smiles at Namjoon’s quick wit as the rest of the members glance at each other a bit confused. He’s the only one who figured out that BangPD was the one behind that strange text last night. Sitting down, BangPD meets Namjoon’s stern but curious eyes, trying to pick apart the complexity hidden behind their depths.

“The reason is simple. We needed to confer with you 7 as shareholders in the company.” Taehyung sits up from his once relaxed position at the sentence, turning attentively towards BangPD-nim. He glances toward Jungkook to try and read his expression, but Jungkoook avoids his gaze. What exactly are the two of them planning?

BangPD nods to the woman sitting attentively in the back and she nods back, pulling out a computer and walking to the head of the table. She opens it and begins connecting it to the stereo system. Yoongi crinkles his brow at the curious setup. Once the woman is finished, she nods toward BangPD before heading back to her seat next to the door.

“Before we can do that however...there’s something you need to hear.”

With that, BangPD presses play and once more...your voice fills the room.

It instills a hush over each of them. Each one of them, even the woman in the back, is visibly affected by the emotion in your voice. The soulful pain that you carry through each note you sing takes them to a world which only they can see; drives them to emotions they have never felt before.

Jin goes completely still, trying his hardest to hold back the tears which are threatening to spill over and wet his cheeks. He wants to hurt whoever made you feel this way. Whoever made you sing like this...as though you were crying out for help.

Jhope’s expression is blank, completely out of character for him. But he can't help it. At the sound of your voice, he is unable to keep the mask up for any longer. It falls, shows everything underneath, shows what he really hides behind his smile. He can hardly feel it as the single tear runs down his cheek.

It takes all Jimin has not to break down into tears right then and there. He stares at the computer as though that would help him reach you. Help him to erase the pain that has affected you deep inside. As though he could erase in you what he could never erase in himself.

Yoongi has closed his eyes, leaning his head back in the chair he sits in. As though if he were to open them, the voice would disappear and the beauty he sees behind his eyes would go with it. As though it's the only anchor keeping him from completely fading away.

Namjoon finds himself searching through his mind, trying to figure out where he’s heard this voice before. Where he’s felt this kind of pain, this deep level of sadness and insecurity. Trying to remember why he can find some familiarity in it. Why he feels as though he’s home and safe.

Taehyung is petrified. He’s heard this voice before. He has it saved safely in his pocket at this very moment. He helped the owner of this voice home the other day. He can still feel her touch on his skin.

Frantically, he glances toward Jungkook once more. How was he able to get this recording? Was he there? And if he was…

Then was that moment Taehyung shared, that one break in time where he could only see you, that one moment where he knew, he just knew that you were perhaps the only one who could truly understand him…

When he couldn’t understand himself…

Did it mean nothing at all?

Jungkook smiles to himself now as he sees the room which is alight with your voice. As he sees the way they change, the way they are affected, how it seems as though they have been healed with the sound, the beautiful world which your voice brings to each one of them. When he sees the way your voice alights in them a new fire, a new flame unable to be doused, he sees the true purpose behind your voice behind you.

A light that was meant to be shared.

As the song ends, though he’s sad to see it go, this time he’s sure that he’ll hear it again.

That he’ll hear you again.

In the silence, the ones who remain have a hard time coming back to themselves. It's as though they are wandering in the dark, now that the world they were able to see has disappeared. Almost as though they had forgotten how to live, how to breathe without that utopia in their mind.

But the main thing is that suddenly, all at once…

They felt as though they had been healed.

Even if it was only for a moment.

“Her name is Yen.” BangPD’s voice breaks through the fragile silence, catching everyone’s attention, including Jungkook. Clearing his throat, Bang Sihyuk opens your file, passing it forward on the table. Everyone is able to see your ID picture, where you were born, your current number, your family members, your current address...even your social security number. It’s all there, for each of them to see and to immediately know…

“She has recently been hired as Namjoon’s assistant in Jaejin’s absence.” BangPD explains, but this is something they already know. They share a look with each other, recognizing that this is the same girl who brought a smile on their face yesterday.

“Now that you have heard her voice, let’s get down to business.”

The same girl who was hours late for her first day.

“The real reason I called you all here is because we need to make a decision.”

The same girl who turned Namjoon into a frantic mess.

“A choice that may make or break this company.”

The same girl who turned Jungkook into a dumbstruck teenage boy.

“A choice that involves this voice, that involves Yen.”

The same girl who helped Taehyung find himself...even for a little while.

“As shareholders for this company this affects each and every one of you.”

Though the rest may not have met you...they all saw the picture.

“I called you here today to ask you…”

They saw in you the same charming girl that everyone else had seen throughout the day.

“If the 7 of you would agree to signing this girl on as a trainee for our company.”

The one behind this voice.

Is the same girl who tried to stuff an entire bowl of salad in her face.

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: crazy crazy

chapter 23 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

47 notes · View notes

professorsnape394 · 3 years

Text

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Four: The Three Broomsticks

A/N: This is the fourth part to my fanficiton ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 1733

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The following days transpired just as the day before had done; a lot of potion brewing and a little conversation. However, more notably Severus Snape was actually participating in the conversation for once. Aria could not yet say she had seen a pleasant side to the man, however he was acceptable to converse with at the very least. By the end of the third day he no longer pretended to busy himself with textbooks and he actually elected to help with the potion brewing for once. Being able to talk to the Professor and ask him any questions helped her a great deal in learning the correct procedures. She felt herself being more at ease around him, and soon enough they had developed their own way of working together, that she found quite enjoyable. Even Severus had become accustomed to the woman's presence in his classroom as she pranced around the cauldrons, laughing every now and then at his sarcastic comments he hadn't entirely meant to be humorous.

Aria had been lost in thought as she stirred the final potion to completion. "I was thinking." She said cautiously. "It's pretty hard finding things to occupy myself at nights, there isn't much to do here, except aimlessly wandering the halls. How do you feel about maybe taking a trip to Hogsmeade this weekend, have some dinner, maybe drinks? It would make a change from the elves cooking, although I admit they'd be pretty hard to beat."

"I appreciate the offer Miss Dumbledore. However you know how I feel about spending time with Mr. Hagrid, I doubt a change of setting would convince me, especially with the addition of alcohol." Severus spoke, his tone softer than it usually would at such a request.

"Hagrid wouldn't be there." She hastened to add. "He mentioned he has business out with the castle grounds. I just figured since the two of us would be here anyway, it wouldn't make any sense for us to sit alone."

"You may have forgotten, Miss Dumbledore, but I like being alone. I eat alone every night, and I do not wish to simply be your back up plan, now Hagrid has left you to do the same."

"I don't mean for you to be a back up plan Sev- Professor Snape. I just think it might do us both some good. After all haven't we been getting along better these past few days." Aria wanted to get to know the man more, she felt they had got off on the wrong foot and the way to fix this was spending more time together, and hopefully they would even become friends at the end of it all.

"You haven't been as disagreeable as I expected you would be, I will admit. This does not change my previous opinion." He stated.

"At least consider it." She pleaded.

With a sigh Snape flipped another page. "I'll consider it." He agreed, continuing reading his book, no longer interested in conversing with the young witch.

The next few days dragged in more than ever. Aria enjoyed keeping herself busy and was not used to having this much free time. The only thing keeping her sane was her passions for drawing and nature. She chose to combine the two and spend her days outside, sketching the beautiful landscape she found herself in. She preferred to opt for portraits, capturing the essence of humanity in her sketches, but trees were fine too. She shrugged.

Sunday morning eventually came around and Aria chose to tackle something she had been putting off ever since her arrival at Hogwarts. A small pile of letters had accumulated on her bedside table, ignoring each one as they came in. She immediately recognised the scrawled writing on the envelope and could not face opening them. Every second day she received a letter and it broke her heart knowing what lay within. Reading each one carefully, she knew she could not face writing the response the sender desperately awaited. Instead she scribbled a small, generic reply, making sure to include that she would be too busy to write often due to her crazy schedule. This of course was a lie as she had virtually nothing planned for the next couple of weeks until term begun. Aria did not want to face even reading any more letters as long as she remained at Hogwarts, and so she swore to herself she wouldn't no matter how hard she knew it would be.

A firm knock echoed through her quarters just as Aria sent her letter off with beautiful brunette barn owl. "Come in." She called curious as too who would be calling on her. Shocked to see Professor Snape striding into her private chambers, Aria couldn't help but question his presence there.

"I've had time to think about your offer." He stated blankly, visibly out of his comfort zone.

"And?" Aria pressed.

"And I suppose there would be no harm in joining you for one meal. After all, as you say, we both will be here alone, we may as well keep each other company."

"Fantastic!" His colleague gleamed, jumping up from her position on her couch. "Just give me some time to get ready and I'll meet you there? Say six oclock at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Six is fine with me. Don't be late." He warned, leaving the room just as quickly as he came.

Aria entered the Three Broomsticks at five forty-five, ensuring Snape had no reason to reprimand her once again for her tardiness. It stunned her to find the sallow skinned man already sitting at a booth, firewhiskey in hand, patiently waiting on her arrival. She couldn't help but smile to herself as she watched him tap out a rhythm on the side of his glass as he took yet another sip. She wondered if it was out of impatience or nervousness, either way she thought it slightly endearing to see.

Hearing the click of a familiar set of heels quickly approaching him, Severus Snape looked up from his glass, almost needing to hold back the urge to smile, but managed to keep his composure. He rose to his feet, holding out a hand to greet the fellow Professor, instantly cursing himself for such a foolish action. "Sit." He commanded, motioning to the seat across from his own. "I'll get you a drink."

"Oh no, there's really no need Professor." Aria insisted, shaking her head, causing her beach-like waves to brush over her exposed shoulders. "I'm afraid alcohol doesn't agree with me at the best of times." She admitted.

"Correct me if I am wrong, Miss Dumbledore, but as I recall it was you who suggested a meal and drinks. Or did I mishear you." Snape asked, feeling almost foolish, having already down two glasses of Firewhiskey.

"I did say that didn't I." The young Miss Dumbledore blushed. "I apologise, sometimes I just cannot stop myself when I speak, I often forget the consequences of drinking, which as it happens is the ultimate consequence of drinking." She chuckled.

The older man shot her a small look of disdain, not at all as amused as she had expected him to be. He let out a small grunt of dissatisfaction, and proceed to down the dregs of his drink.

It took a few more awkward moments of silence and Severus being slightly more irritable that Aria had wished for before the two finally settled in to a rhythm of conversation. Soon enough it came time to eat and Aria took it upon herself to call over the waitress. As he ordered Aria watched as Severus made no effort to look up at the woman serving him. It crossed her mind that maybe this was a deliberate attempt at ignoring her voluptuous breast and curvature of her hips. However, on the other hand she considered that maybe he truly was not interested as she thought back to their conversation a few days before.

"She's stunning." Aria couldn't help but observe. "You should go for it, chat her up, she might be into the dark, brooding, intellectual type."

"As I told you before, Miss Dumbledore, dating it not top priority for me. If you find her so attractive why don't you, as you say, 'chat her up'." Snape replied sarcastically, not expecting the woman to take him seriously.

"I might just." She said, finding her eyes following the waitress back to the kitchen for a moment or two. He couldn't help but feel a little jealous as the witch watched the woman walk away from their table, though he was not sure why.

"So tell me Professor Snape." The young Professor began. "What are the other Professor's at Hogwarts like? Who am I took look out for? Who's my competition." She grinned, wriggling her eyebrows menacingly.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean." He hummed in response.

"You know." She shrugged. "Who are you close with? Will I have to fight them for custody of you." She laughed, although the Professors expression did not change. "What I'm trying to say Severus is, I'm new here, besides yourself and Hagrid I know no one. I'd like to consider us friends, though you may have a different opinion. I was simply trying to express my nervousness at being the new girl. I was hoping you'd be able to help me settle in, introduce me to your other friends and colleagues that is." She sighed.

"You do not seem to understand my disposition, Miss Dumbledore, that which I feel I have made abundantly clear. I am not one to socialise. I am not one to make friends. I am here to teach and teach alone. I do what your grandfather asks of me and that is the extent of my relationship with the staff. They understand how I am, and respect that. I do not bother them and in return they do not bother me. You have been the first to struggle with this concept, Professor." He struggled to grant her the title.

"I didn't realise." Aria stuttered slightly, not understanding how she had not caught on. "I had simply thought you had a vendetta against me, due to my position here at Hogwarts. I didn't realise you shut yourself off from everyone. I apologise for any inconvenience I have caused you." The tone of her voice softening, becoming almost a whisper-like volume. She was embarrassed she had forced him out of his habits and brought him to the Three Broomsticks to clear the air. She realised now it had been a pointless act. This man had been stuck in his ways for over a decade and she would not change that a fortnight into knowing him.

"I am here, aren't I." Severus stated, trying not sound as harsh as he previously had. "Had I truly despised you I would not be wasting my time here with you. I have come to the realisation that if we are to work in such a close proximity to each other, it would be best if we maintained at least some level of civility with one another."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Professor." She replied shyly, remaining silent. Immediately Severus regretted opening his mouth. He didn't entirely hate her company and in fact he had found himself starting to enjoy the evening. It took him a minute or two to gain the confidence to speak the words aloud, but he figured the pay off was worth the sacrifice of a small amount of pride.

"Will you stop fretting woman." He demanded. "I was just beginning to find your constant rambling tolerable. If I wished to spend the evening in silence, I wouldn't have made the effort to accept your invitation to come here tonight. You have managed to entice me thus far, do not spoil what may be your one chance at a friendship with me."

"A friendship?" This piqued her interest.

"You know what I mean. A working relationship. A tolerance. A chance for me to accept your position as my apprentice." Snape corrected himself, fumbling over his words.

"Mmmm." She smirked, taking a small sip of butterbeer. "I'll just pretend a friendship is off the cards for us then, Professor. Although I don't recall you mentioning trips to Hogsmeade as an exception to your reclusive personality." She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Despite his annoyance at her persuasive abilities, and daring comments, he was glad he had convinced her back to her previously inquisitive self.

Both choosing to ignore any reservations they might have about their 'non-friendship' the two spoke for hours with ease. With each empty glass of fire whiskey Severus Snape found himself relaxing more into the conversation, his reputation becoming a distant memory. It was the first he had allowed himself to truly relax in possibly the whole of his life.

It seemed in one evening Severus had gotten to know all there was to know about Aria's life, although strangely she mentioned nothing regarding her family and Snape chose not to pursue the subject. He loved listening to her talk, she was a rambler, rarely needing any interjection from him except the odd mumble here and there and that's the way he liked it. He was a listener, he loved taking in new information no matter the subject. Most importantly it meant he did not have to share anything about himself, unless the woman specifically asked, and even in those rare occasions, she knew better than to pressure him when he chose not to provide an answer.

Aria told him of the schooling she received in Ilvermorny, her school in America. She told him of her job working in a local alchemists after she left school. She confided in him of her dream to become a professor, or an auror even, really she was just desperate to make a difference in someone's life and her dream would not succeed by spending the rest of her days working in a dingy old shop. "And that's why your grandfather brought you here?" He questioned, the topic piquing his interest. "You told him of your dream to teach?" "I guess you could say that." She agreed, not wanting to raise any more questions than necessary. "He didn't bring me from America though, if that's what your meaning. I was already here. My mother sent me to school in America to protect me, with all that Wizarding War carry on and what with me being a Dumbledore, she didn't want to put me in any more danger than I already was. She remained here with my father however and I visited on the holidays." Snape raised a single brow at the mention of her mother and father but changed the subject completely, seeing the woman being to shy away slightly.

"It's getting late." Severus observed. "I should walk you back to the castle before it gets too dark."

"That would be nice" Aria smiled, rising from her seat.

The couple made their way back to the beautiful lit up castle as the sky turned a deep shade of blue above them. They continued to speak all the way down to the dungeons, this time Severus participating just as much as Aria. The Potions Master escorted his apprentice to the door of her quarters, the two of them swaying awkwardly not knowing where to go from here.

"You can come in for a drink... if you'd like." Aria hesitated to ask. "Although I'm not sure I have anything alcoholic, so tea might need to suffice."

"I appreciate the invitation, but it's been a long day for me, I'm afraid I must retire for the night." Now they were back in the familiar castle grounds Severus felt as though he had suddenly returned to his body, and the events of the night lingered at the forefront of his mind, a deep feeling of regret developing in his stomach.

"Very well." Aria agreed, feeling slightly uncomfortable herself. "Good night, Professor Snape."

"Good night, Miss Dumbledore." He spoke softly, rocking anxiously the balls of his feet, waiting for the woman to disappear into her quarters. With a simple nod and one final smile from Aria, she vanished from his sight. The sound of the door closing echoed through the halls, ringing in Severus' ears, and suddenly he felt more alone than he ever had before.

Aria stood with her back to the door, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. As much as she enjoyed the evening with her mentor, the intense awkwardness that occurred at her door, got her thinking about the man on the other side. Her intention was to get to know the man better, and though he did not confide in her much, she felt she had achieved that, maybe more than anyone ever had.

Why had he allowed her to get close to him when he claimed to distance himself from the world?

This thought circled her brain for the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

#severus snape #severus snape imagine #severus x oc #severus snape one shot #Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #severus x reader #severus x y/n #alan rickman #potions master #potions masters apprentice #dumbledore #dumbledores granddaughter #severus snape x reader #severus snape fluff #severus snape smut

62 notes · View notes

daughterofadeadman · 3 years

Text

Double Sided

Pairings: Alec x Stiles

Warnings: Drinking, fluff

Description: The one where Lydia drags Stiles to a party and he runs into Alec, literally. College AU

Word count: 1468

"Whose party is this anyways?" Stiles asked clambering out of the car. It's not like he actually cared, he was just trying to delay the inevitable.

"Lightwood, you don't know him. He's totally your type though, tall with black hair and brooding basically a young Derek Hale by all standards. Now if you're ready we can go in." Lydia said making a show of throwing her hair over her shoulder.

"That is not my type. I'm more of a strawberry blond type of guy if you know what I mean." He said completely ignoring the comment about his stalling.

Lydia scuffed at his words, "You haven't been a strawberry blond type of guy since sophomore year. Now shut up and come and party with me."

Stiles sighed but gave in while slightly trudging through the neatly cut grass. It wasn't that Stiles didn't like to go to parties, he had lost his virginity thanks to one Junior year, it was just that he wasn't in the mood to be dumped. Lydia always left him when they went to parties together, merely because they attracted different crowds, and it always put a damper on Stiles night. Tonight would be no exception and he knew better then to think it would be.

The music vibrated through Stiles body like an electric shock the closer they got to the house. The two had to park down the road because of the excess of party goer's vehicles lining the street on both sides. "This guy most be known for throwing some great parties." Stiles thought looking at the number of people dancing on the lawn which was already littered in plastic cups.

Once Lydia and Stiles breached the threshold of the house red solo cups were thrusted into their hands. "Cheers." Lydia said tapping her cup to Stiles before downing half the cup.

"Cheers." Stiles replied taking a small sip. A look of disgust painted his features once the substance hit his taste buds. "Gross."

A laugh escaped Lydia's lips as she pulled Stiles to the dance floor. "Come on let loose." She yelled over the pounding of the base. Taking another gulp of her drink she began to dance to the music's beat. Stiles rolled his eyes but did as his bestfriend demanded.

Within a few minutes Stiles had finished his drink without throwing up. He did not enjoy beer, he was more of a whiskey guy like his father. If he was going to be honest he thought it was more enjoyable watching everyone get drunk then it was getting drunk, but he was doing this for Lydia.

The sassy girl had it set in her mind that Stiles needed a night out, and he wasn't going to take that away from her, not just yet. It wasn't until they both began dancing with other people that he slipped away to the kitchen.

The kitchen was really only separated from the dining room by a bar, which was covered in crushed or fallen cups. The great oak table was being used for beer pong and the counter held a couple being a little too intimate for Stiles liking. Rolling his eyes, he headed to the back of the kitchen hoping to find somewhere to sit down and wait out Lydia. Making his way through couples making out in the hallway he found himself in a smaller sitting room.

What he wasn't expecting was for a tall, dark, and handsome guy to bump into him on his way to the couch.

"Hey watch where you're-" The guy said before cutting himself off. His eye's met Stiles and a smile graced his face. A tattoo poked out from beneath his black tee shirt causing Stiles to wonder what it was.

"I haven't seen you at one of these before. I'm Alec by the way." He said before sticking his hand out, a red cup in the other. The smell of alcohol hit Stiles in the nose as he gripped the other boys hand.

"Stiles."

"Stiles." Alec repeated as if tasting his name. "That's different."

Stiles nodded as he watched the other boy bring the cup to his lips for a drink.

"Yeah it's a nickname." Stiles replied, eyes still glued to the plump lips in front of him.

"Stiles." He said again. "I like it."

"I'm glad that I have your approval." Stile sassed before he could stop himself.

Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he raked his fingers through his hair. Why was he being so rude in such a short amount of time? It must be a new record, even for Stiles.

Alec on the other hand smiled even wider. "Who is this Stiles kid?" He wondered taking another sip of his drink.

The two stood for a few seconds longer before either of them spoke up. "How are you enjoying the party?" Alec asked.

The pounding of the next songs base kicked in just as Stiles was about to speak. If he was going to be honest, he hated parties. They were just filled with drunk teenagers who would probably get themselves killed by the end of the night. He only came tonight because he cared about Lydia's opinion, and because he was ignoring one very grumpy twenty-five-year-old.

"I'm not." Stiles said before explaining how he felt leaving out the bit about Derek Hale. "I feel bad for the guy that through this party though. Even though I'm not enjoying it I wouldn't want to be him. People are totally trashing his house and I even think someone puked in the drive way. If I can find the guy I might even offer to help clean up after words if he isn't to trashed himself."

"Someone puked in the drive way?" Alec asked his voice taking on a strange note to which Stiles nodded.

"It's kinda gnarly."

"Oh god." Alec moaned wiping a hand down his face.

"Yeah like I said wouldn't want to be that guy." Stiles noticed the way Alec shot him a glare before shaking his head and smiling again.

"Yeah, me neither."

The pair began to talk about everything and anything in between, no topic was off limits. Stiles told him about how his mom past a few years back and how his dad was the Sheriff of a few towns over. They talked about Lydia, and how she is honestly so hot but terrifying at the same time. Alec told Stiles about his little brother Max passing away last year and his adoptive brother Jace who was totally around here somewhere. They talked about Izzy and how she got all the hot genes, something that Stiles wouldn't believe until he saw proof, and about how Alec's parents were off on business quite a bit. They even somehow started talking about Derek Hale and how he and Stiles were no longer a thing, part of the reason Stiles was forced out tonight.

"It's alright. Uh Magnus Bane, do you know him?" With a dismissive shake of the head Alec continued. "Well we were sort of a thing to so I know what you mean when you say you needed to get out."

The pair didn't stop there.

"What do you mean you have never seen Star Wars? It's like a national treasure! It's more important to this county then the next president. No this can't stand, next Friday you are making popcorn and I am coming to your house with the best movies seriously ever and were watching them."

"Stiles you've never had tres leche cake? That's insane, I'll have to make you some. Izzy absolutely loves it I swear it's great."

"Alec no you can't think that Bateman stands a chance against Superman. No, this totally makes you less hot, stop."

"Stiles, Stiles slow down I can hardly understand you."

"Pepsi is so much better than coke shut up."

The night was still long, and Stiles no longer regretted coming to this totally trash party because of Alec. The boys had positioned themselves against a wall, seeing as the couch was occupied. Stiles repeatedly pushed himself from the wall to emphasis his ever-changing points and Alec regarded his spastic actions with a smile. The two were content in their little bubble until Lydia popped it.

"Stiles there you are!" Lydia yelled over the music grabbing Stiles by the wrist. "I lost you forever ago, but I see you've been in good hands. Nice party by the way Alec."

"Nice party?"

A nervous chuckle escaped Alec's lips. "If I remember correctly you said you'd help clean up?"

#party #stiles stilinski #alec lightwood #alec lightworm #stalec #stiles x Alec #crack ship #party au #au #alternate universe #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles fanfiction #Alec lightwood imagine #Alec lightwood fan fiction #teen wolf #shadowhunters #the mortal instruments

43 notes · View notes

shelby-love · 4 years

Text

JAY HALSTEAD

#2 Alone.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: soft angst but with a cute ending

Authors note: Here is the long awaited part two! Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first one xx

PART // 1 //

"So...you're mad at him for leaving?" Gabby asks you. She had already knew that you were a bit mad before you even told her what happened.

But mad wasn't the word you would use.

"I'm not mad!" You fight back. "I'm... Disappointed."

Gabby stays quiet for a second.

"I need him right now." You huff and fix the wrinkled areas of your hospital gown. It's something you do whenever you're frustrated. Or even something remotely un-positive.

"I was shot two times Gabby!" For drastic measures you put up your two fingers in the air. "I don't care that I'm whining like a teenager. He was ready to flee the scene with me but he can't come to see me when I wake up from a 4 hour long surgery. Make it make sense goddammit!"

Your friend stays silent before nodding her head in defeat. She sees your point.

What Jay did was something a senior detective shouldn't have done. Ever. Leaving the scene instead of helping was every bit wrong in his Sargent's books and you're sure that he god an ear-full from Voight.

But not even Voight is that uncaring to prevent him from visiting you as some sort of a punishing method. Jay not coming is all him. No one made him tell Will to call him once you're awake and not visit.

"I'll let you rest." She announces quietly before giving you a quick hug. Quickly and quietly she retreats into the hall of the hospital, and soon leaving back to the firehouse to continue her shift.

You're alone in the hospital within the next 15 minutes. Your colleagues and friends scurry into their respective vehicles and drive off.

Every now and then Will swings by to keep you company but apart from that you're all on your own. You aren't updated about the case or anything for that matter.

You're pleasantly surprised when you see Burgess make her way towards you. She's dressed in civil but wears her badge proudly on the belt of her dark jeans. There's an air of importance and power around her that almost makes you feel proud that someone like her is paying you a visit. The proudness is overthrown by the love you have for your friend.

Therefore, you can't help the smile that breaks out and completely demolishes your grumpy and brooding facade.

"Thank God you're okay!" She exclaims, voice fill with relief and happiness. "Jay said you were fine but I just had to see for myself."

Your eyebrows furrow and a scowl makes its way to your face.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Her big doe eyes round in surprise when she sees your face.

"What else did Jay say?" You ask her before you can stop yourself.

A sudden wave of realisation comes over her and she sighs. "Y/N he's beating himself up. He thinks it's his fault that you were shot."

"That doesn't give him the right to leave me when I need him the most!" Your outburst makes the monitor next to you spike up, almost enough to alert you attending doctor. "He left the crime scene to be there for me when I was knocked out and didn't know where I was but then decided to leave my side completely when I woke up in shock and pain from a 4 hour long surgery!"

It should've been reversed.

"He's blaming himself for it Y/N... He told us that he won't be able to look at you until he finds the ones that did this to you." She talks about it so easily that it almost makes sense. You're too high on meds and you were out for way too long to suddenly feel forgiving.

"Well maybe I didn't want that from him..." You clutch your hands together in a strong grip and let your gaze fall on them. "Maybe I just wanted him to be the first person I saw when I woke up. I needed him to be there for me. Do you know how freaked out I was when I woke up and didn't feel my leg?"

Kim shakes her head lightly. She doesn't know. She can only imagine how you felt at that moment.

"He doesn't have to send me apology flowers or chocolate...but the fact that he didn't even call me. It hurts Kim."

At your truthful confession she stands up and pulls you in for a hug. You got a lot of them today but somehow her's felt the most warm and welcoming. She silently told you a lot of things.

Kim Burgess managed to snatch a few more minutes with you before she was called back.

"Could that be them?" You ask hopefully. Sitting in the hospital injured wasn't bearable knowing that the ones who did this to you managed to run away.

Kim nodded. "Jay has a lead. I gotta go."

She excused herself and quickly slipped out of your hospital room. Soon after, one of the lovely nurses payed you a visit once again with some hardcore medication that knocked you right out into deep slumber.

***

After some time you manage to lift your heavy eyelids long enough to get used to the bright light above you. You manage to stretch your arm long enough to press the magic button that will call someone to your room.

Halfway to the magic button you hear rustling sounds of one's clothing. It's like someone's in the room with you.

Instantly your paranoia kicks in. "Who...who's there?"

Your line of vision is met with an all fimilar set of eyes. The eyes, the nose, the lips, the cheeks...they all belong to only one person in the world.

They belong to your boyfriend.

"Oh, it's you." You tell him, clearly showing zero interest in talking to him. The wish to sit up becomes too strong that you can't ignore it any longer. You prompt yourself on your elbows, feeling pain in your side pierce you like an arrow. The noise that comes out because of the pain doesn't go unnoticed by Jay who quickly stands up to help you.

"I got this." You tell him through gritted teeth. You're still mad and disappointed with your boyfriend.

"No you don't. Don't be so stubborn and let me help you." He shoots back at you and hurts your already injured pride.

"N-no! You don't get to act like a boyfriend now!" You slap his help away like the petty little thing you are. After this new round of meds and a little more time napping with their help, you feel a bit more willing to forgive him. Not that you will show him that. He needs to see what he did wrong.

You can see it in his face. He wants to groan and shoot you a look that will tell you to stop being stubborn but he can't. He knows what he did and he also knows that he needs to explain himself in order to earn your forgiveness.

"Why did you leave me?" You ask. It feels good to finally ask the question that's been sitting on your chest for so long. "I understand what your job is and I also know that I can't expect you to be with me 24/7 but... Call me when she wakes up? They gave me my phone back, Jay. You could've just called me to see if I'm alive."

The fact that he didn't even do that... Instead he told his brother to call him when his girlfriend wakes up. It made you angry.

"You bolted with me in the ambo... You left everything and everyone behind to come with me and when I woke up you weren't there." You feel wet moisture (also known as tears) surround your eyes to the point he and his dark bomber jacket become blurry.

Every feeling you have is highlighted. You gulp the little saliva that created in your dry mouth and ask, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I couldn't stand looking at you while you're hurt like this, knowing that it happened because I didn't protect you." Jay confesses, bringing his hands to his face. He looks like he didn't sleep at all. "The men who did this to you got away because I didn't stop them. You were shot because of me. Not once but twice."

His words sink in. Your boyfriend is a proud guy. He protects what's his (not that you're an object) and when he doesn't succeed in that it eats him alive. It's the worst thing that can happen to him.

As his girlfriend, he already feels guilty that you have to be alert every day while you two are together because of his job. He thinks that the least he can do is protect you at all costs while you're in his sight.

What you didn't know is that before you went in to bust open the bunker door your boyfriend did everything in his power to get you out of there. To stop you from even entering the place with Severide in the first place.

But he couldn't. Not when his girlfriend is a very well respected member of CFD's famous squad group. Removing you just because he wanted to make sure you were safe was like saying that you couldn't do your job well. And Jay wasn't going to go that far and lie about your capability to do your job. If he did that then you would never forgive him.

And he knew it.

"I needed to find them first. I couldn't just let them go and get the upper hand." He told you sincerely and even managed to grasp your hands in his. "I was worried sick about you Y/N. I couldn't show it because Voight was going to remove me from the case and I needed to be there when we found them."

You take in his confession and nod. You take your hand from his grasp to wipe a few tears away before placing it back down and squeezing tight.

"Did you arrest them?" You ask.

"I kneeled them on the ground and managed to shoot each one when the open fire started." He said proudly. His statement brought a smile to your face. You always liked when he was badass.

"If I forgive you," His eyes sparkle when he hears that making you fight back a bubble of laughter. "Do you promise to never ever ever do this again no matter what?"

If, God forbid, this happens again you want him to be there for you when you wake up. Not chasing bad guys around Chicago while you fight for your life at Med.

"I sincerely promise." He says, pulling your hands up to your face and giving each a kiss.

"Now... Apologise." You lean towards him, smirking like a devil. "And make it good."

MASTERLIST

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #chicago pd imagine #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd #chicago fire imagine #chicago fire fanfiction #chicago fire

269 notes · View notes