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achillieus · 3 years

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let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

(pinterest inspired board)

part: 1/6

(other parts) (masterlist)

The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.

The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.

You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.

He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor

“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”

He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.

Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”

“Okay.”

Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.

And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.

It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.

You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.

The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.

There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.

You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.

You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.

When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.

A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.

He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.

“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.

“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”

He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.

You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.

He still doesn’t ask for your name.

It makes you feel genuinely offended.

Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.

“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”

You just nod.

“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”

You give him a look.

“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”

Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.

“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.

You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.

“Yes?”

He offers you an easy smile. “Thank you.”

Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.

“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”

You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.

“And from what I can tell, he’s right.” You hear him laugh.

It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.

“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.

“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”

Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, this is an important question.”

You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.

“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”

“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”

You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.

When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.

“You should talk more often.”

You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”

“Good.” he says, still looking.

Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.

He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.

“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”

You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.

So you just tilt your head and take a step back.

That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.

“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.

“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.” For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”

He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.

“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”

“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.

You take some time just looking at him

There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.

The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.

You wish he doesn’t notice.

You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.

“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.

I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.

He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.

“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.

He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.

“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.

“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”

“No reason.”

He inhales deep.

You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.

You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.

He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.

He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.

The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.

The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.

You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.

You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.

You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.

“Do you want some?”

You turn to look at him.

“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.

“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.

There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.

“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”

You nod. You understand.

“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”

You look at him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”

He stands up. The wind hits you again.

“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”

You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.

the morning after, search history

(02:45 PM) hangover recovery

(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover

(03:10 PM) sebastian stan

(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend

(06:00 PM) xanax side effects

You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.

The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.

Feelings eat us raw.

His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.

But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”

You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.

“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.

“Whatever you say, doll.” You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.

He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.

He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.

“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”

You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.

“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.

He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.

“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”

He opens the door and he’s gone.

They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.

But he’s not like that.

He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.

late night search history

(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack

(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person

(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs

(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots

(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes

You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.

Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.

The weekend, however, is two days away.

You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.

The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.

He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.

There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.

“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.

“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.

“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.

“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”

Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.

For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.

You nod at him.

He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”

He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.

“People are always looking for me.”

He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.

You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.

When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.

Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan imagine #monday the movie #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #letyoudown

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thesunlitnerd · 4 years

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Heal Your Aura: 7 Common Aura Problems and How To Solve Them

All of us possess unique auric fields which interacts with the auras of others we meet. Auras are a colorful kaleidoscopic of electromagnetic field of energy which rhythmically vibrates around our body. Our aura is also connected with our health, emotions and other external factors. This is a technicolor, multi-layered coat that we wear at all times and is attuned with our spiritual body, mental body, casual body, higher mental body, astral body and etheric body. Combined together, these look like a psychedelic blend of colors & light around your skin. Your aura is an extension of your physical being.

But often, there might be some problems with our energy fields that affect our aura and our physical, mental and emotional health. Hence, it becomes crucial to know about the basic aura problems and how to cleanse them.

What is Aura?

“’AURA‘ IS WHAT ONE REFLECTS IN THE HEART, WHAT YOU BRING INTO THE WORLD, AND WHAT PEOPLE WANT TO LEARN FROM YOU.” – OZUNA

Aura is the energy matrix that surrounds all living (and not only living) creatures. Particularly for humans, the aura is something that many occultists and scientists tried to study. From Kirlian photos to scrying with crystals, all who take aura as a fact attempted to analyze aura, or even detect possible aura problems. You see, the aura is not just an energy field. But, also, a matrix of information, which can potentially be used to diagnose, or even predict information.

7 Common Aura Problems

“THE AURA GIVEN OUT BY A PERSON OR OBJECT IS AS MUCH A PART OF THEM AS THEIR FLESH.” – LUCIAN FREUD

In this article we will try to present to you the most common Aura Problems and, of course, remind you how to overcome them. One of our favorite recipes we use is now available and is called ‘cleansing

1.Insufficient connection with the Divine

It is a very common problem, especially nowadays. As many people turn away from spirituality and religion, they forget a very important piece of information about themselves. They are part of something greater, something unique and magical. According to all ancient sources, we have the divine spark within. Thus, we are always in touch with the Great Spirit / God / Goddess.

Reason:

Our energy is mainly replenished bythe divine source. Additionally, we take energy from food/water and the environment, whilst the earth supports and grounds us. When we neglect our divine source, we actually block the gate of divine energy intake. This makes our aura week. We feel disorientated, sad and uninspired.

Solution:

What we have to do is re-establish the connection with the divine, by either praying or spell-casting. Call upon your guardian Angel. Benzoin was believed to invite Angels and welcome them to stay around! You can always burn some Benzoin while calling upon your Guardian Angel.

2. Parasitic Cords

Over time, we socialize and engage in different kinds of relationships. This actually helps humans, a lot, by learning important lessons throughout life’s experiences. The same lessons probably appear again and again until the message is clear and received. However, not all relationships are helpful.

Reason:

There are times when we hang out or even are closer to people who have lost their way. Temporarily or not, these people have a lack of energy. This negative energy balance creates a ‘thirst’ or ‘craving’ of energy. To appease that, one needs to ‘connect’ with the victim. However, this is always a challenge for them, as we are gifted with several defense mechanisms. Therefore, these people try to develop a pathological relationship, with mood swings, in an effort to poison our hearts with guilt and pain. This creates a ‘sick bond’ or a parasitic cord, from which these people feast on our vital energy. What modern people call ‘toxic relationships’, witches call parasitic cords for centuries.

Solution:

Cord-cutting rituals are the best way to free yourself (spiritually and mentally) from these parasitic cords. Of course, when is needed, psychological assistance should be received, too. The toxic effect may be deep. You may need additional help. It was believed that Pure Frankincense can help you smite the dark energies that suck your spiritual energy. Additionally, peppermint is known to heal the auric wounds, after we cut off such bonds.

3. Cracks in Aura’s Matrix

Aura has a thick – energy shield. This is a very effective defense mechanism we use against lower vibrations, curses and the dark arts. However, sometimes, this shield may crack.

Reason:

These rips are usually created after a psychic attack. However, this attack may be psychic in nature, but it can occur in the material plane, in a form of quarrel drenched with psychological weapons. Pain and sorrow create a weakness and these psychic attacks can actually penetrate our shield and eventually crack it. This creates a scar, which opens the door to future attacks.

Solution:

Fortify your aura with love and light. One healing word you can use is ‘Ra(m)’. This is the sound of Fire (and light) which can be mastered to feed and shield your aura once again. Sandalwood was used by Witches since ancient times to help in healing the cracks in one’s aura. Additionally, we would propose Palo Santo.

“LET YOUR AURA PRESENT ITSELF TO THE WORLD.” ANONYMOUS

4. Watchers

We’ve never tried to hide it. Magic is not always good. In Witchcraft and Arcane arts, there are things we love and things we despise. Thus, some practitioners prefer to spy upon their victims, prior to dark spell casting. Therefore, they love to create “the Watchers”. Some of us may have them on our aura.

Reason:

Watchers are intelligent remnants of Spiritual attack, forced to feed on the target’s aura, while simultaneously reporting for everything the target does or thinks. Therefore, this is one of the darkest forms of Witchcraft. Have you ever felt that someone is always watching you? Knowing what you do? Spying on you? Creating a Watcher is very popular amongst the dark arts.

Solution:

As this is actually not an entity but a part of another’s an entity, one needs to exorcise it out of its aura. To do that, Witches used to burn Dragon’s Blood, one of the most potent magical materials ever found, according to the old books of Shadows. Usually, Witches burned Dragon’s Blood alone or mixed with bay laurel leaves, clove buds and a dash of red cayenne pepper (do not exaggerate with the cayenne pepper).

5. Chakra Blocks

In our bodies, there are several mechanisms that help the divine energy flow through us. The most well-known mechanisms are the Chakras – wheels that help the energy flow. There are seven major chakras, but many more secondary ones exist all over our bodies.

Reason:

For many reasons, these chakras may be blocked or severely poisoned by our feelings, traumas and other reasons. Unfortunately, this may bring out many problems. We have actually created a specific article for this issue. You may want to check it, here!

Solution:

Witches during their training were taught that they should periodically cleanse the chakras and help the energy flow! This is not always easy. However, they did believe that there are some recipes that can help them with this issue. Myrrh and Palo Santo (the holy Wood), were amongst the most beloved ingredients for unblocking the chakras.

“WHEN YOU SMILE AND PROJECT AN AURA OF WARMTH, KINDNESS, AND FRIENDLINESS, YOU WILL ATTRACT WARMTH, KINDNESS, AND FRIENDLINESS. HAPPY PEOPLE WILL BE DRAWN TO YOU.” – JOEL OSTEEN

6. Energy Debris

Our aura is a unique and intelligent matrix of energy. Important information comes and goes. Moreover, this intelligent matrix is not static, for it reacts with anything around. Some times, bad things happen, and the aura reacts by producing defensive energy.

Reason:

Aura can help us deflect a psychic attack. Some times, information is stored from a previous attack, in order to understand what happened and know how to deal with it in the future. This is called ‘energy debris’. It is not ‘bad energy’ is it just the memory stored in astral energy inside our aura. However, this energy might make us feel stagnant and ‘heavy’. This lack of fresh spiritual energy may actually be caused by this debris. We need to periodically abolish it.

Solution:

To do so, we need first to meditate and understand the nature of this debris. What caused it? Later, witches used to burn dried agrimony, in order to repel all stagnant and malevolent energy, stuck in our aura.

7. Insufficient Grounding

It’s no secret that as we interact with this plane, we engage in overwhelming activities. This is why we are often flooded by excessive energy. Although this excessive energy is part of a defense mechanism, we should always balance this energy.

Reason:

As this energy may cause several imbalances in our chakras and aura, we need to abolish it regularly. This is why grounding is needed. Grounding is a technique which is used by all witches, especially after a ritual, or an overwhelming experience.

Solution:

To do so, a witch might employ some herbs and resins to create and multiply the effects. Patchouli has been used extensively for this matter. Furthermore, witches have used Patchouli for smudging to call upon spirits of healing and help them ground. It was considered to aid in meditation and was has been used in all procedures which need mental and spiritual clarity.

“WORDS WERE NEVER INVENTED TO FULLY EXPLAIN THE PEACEFUL AURA THAT SURROUNDS US WHEN WE ARE IN COMMUNION WITH MINDS OF THE SAME THOUGHTS.” – EDDIE MYERS

Your aura is a pulsating energy field that is impenetrable, compact and a rainbow of gorgeous colors. This your own internal and external energy that you need to protect and care for at all times. By taking the right steps you can effectively solve all problems related to your aura to enjoy a healthy mind, body and spirit. By improving your auric senses you can experience better emotions and enhanced energy everyday.

#energyflow #energy #energy work #universalenergy #universal #aura #auracleansing

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the-cosmic-blogger · 4 years

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Vin (AU Snatcher) Master Post

Once a human born in 1805 training to be a lawyer, Vin died in Vanessa’s cellar in 1825, barely twenty years old. He became a demon ghost who lives in the corrupted Subcon Forest, reluctantly subsisting every now and then on souls and guiding those lost through his forest.

He grew more and more depressed over time, and his hurt was slowly becoming a bitter rage that caused him to lash out at anything that wasn’t his minions or sometimes the dwellers. Eventually, fifty years later, it took hold completely, and Vin, having seen no end to it, chose to revel in it, becoming the "tsundere" he was during the game. It took Hat Kid arriving around 2014ish to change this, to bring out some of his humanity. Now he’s sweet and patient as can be, with deep regrets.

Appearance:

by @lemonykleonella

by @subconniving

Some Facts:

215 years old. But he forgot.

he’s pan.

he discovered his hunger for souls twenty minutes into his unlife.

he doesn’t like eating souls, only does it because he needs to.

he wants to stop.

he goes feral if he gets really, really hungry, which is often, but only if souls are near.

has the ability to sense souls, and it automatically kicks in when incredibly hungry.

round pupils turn to slits when feral

can and often will outright eat people when feral

kind and friendly

hates hurting people

suffers from anxiety, PTSD and depression

6 ft tall, but can grow

a tired, kindly ghost demon at heart

a complete dad

likes puns

his appearance is due to most of his humanity returning, and green is directly across from red, which is close to orange, his hair color when human.

eyebrows are white because old

is a father figure and best friend to Alaina and Booky, Divine’s OCs ( @divine-knight ).

a friend to all living things, especially children

he and Hat Kid are penpals, and sometimes Hat Kid will send him a wayward soul for him to eat. He doesn’t know how she does this though.

his tail is sensitive! don’t touch unless it’s expected or you have his permission!

he doesn’t necessarily need contracts. He used them because they were a reminder of what he once had.

he was gifted a tablet from Hat Kid that he barely uses.

freezing temperatures throw him out of whatever body he might be possessing, and cause his mind to relive the cellar experience.

is into fashion and wears clothing. Main: pink jacket, white top hat.

can sew

is like a big, friendly cat

licks wounds

was not a prince, but a prodigal commoner

Human Facts:

Vincent Hildin (Hill-den)

born 1805

voiceclaim

was a prodigy

blue eyes, orange hair

had the verbal tic “kid/kiddo” since 12

wore patchy, casual clothes

rescued and owned a bush cat he named Rough Patch

parents were concerned about his "problematic" behavior (feminine side, the "kid/kiddo" tic, liking to draw, etc).

ultimately because he wanted to keep Rough Patch and had an argument with them at 15, they made him move out to Subcon, washing their hands of him.

noticed by Vanessa at 17 when he finally visited the manor’s grounds for a weekly feast her mother threw

almost quit law due to [REDACTED]

had a small breathing issue

died at 19, barely 20

In one AU, Alaina (Divine’s OC) had gone back in time to when he was growing bitter and angry and changed things, so in that AU present time he looks like this:

When he's feral, he looks like this (I was more focused on his face):

Note: I still have yet to draw him wearing that jacket. But it is how he looks without it. Just imagine that he’s wearing it and his top hat. :D

A Short Drabble About Vin’s Hunger (TW Mild Gore)

Themes:

Rinileki14 - Tower of Dr. Zalost 2.0

Stormheart - From The Storm

ILWAG - I Was Feeling Down, But...

ILWAG - Healing

Alex Khod - MIND SHIFT

Steven Universe - Being Human

If you want to roleplay with him and find out more about him, I have a Discord. DM me for it. :D

#ahit #a hat in time #ahit au #a hat in time au #post-ahit #post-ahit au #au snatcher #vin #vin (au snatcher)#my au #my art #others' art #yay!#long post

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thomasstalsworth · 4 years

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Too Old ... Moray

[ Prior Chapter ]

Emett Moray was an attentive, stoic sailing man of middling age.

There was a broadness to his form, more proportioned in girth than in height. He had a halo of hair about his head that while not so fully bald, was certainly working his way there. Two arms, two legs, two eyes, and a heart -- he had a rich wealth of functions available to him. Indeed as well a mind, and one that was keen enough to understand the world and take it as it came.

Emett Moray was a loyal man and, in his mind, still first mate to one Abighail Atwater.

When she left, in the cool Spring evening that had cast itself over Stormwind, he had been too afforded to his stoic battlements to stop her. Certainly things were on his mind, many of which that involved her in great capacity. Indeed ever since he had met Abighail Atwater he had found that more and more of his thoughts, concerns, comedies and consternation involved the young Captain in one manner or another.

Captain. As that is what she was. To him, at least.

Emett Moray was a loyal man and he did not relinquish that loyalty nor the afforded and earned offerings of title that came with it, easily.

They had played some manner of dice game that he had not known before. ‘Death rolls’ or ‘rolling’ she had called it, and the name was not entirely inappropriate. While there was no cessation of vital organs involved, it was a bit of a metaphorical count-down timer by the nature of its game play. There were numerous dice games or other gambling bouts of chance that he had learned across his years in the tavern houses and side pubs of Azeroth, but never this one. Strange, he did recall in retrospection as it the game play was simple enough that he must have passed a game of it once or a dozen times.

He lost of course, all three bouts they played.

Emett Moray was not a man of chance or luck. Although he did play at the sail and rig and rope of sailor-ship, a navy-man by trade and by training -- he was never one for chance. Strict and ordered, liable to snap the humor off of any tree simply by work of his presence, Emett Moray was not one to put much stock in ‘fate’ or ‘fortune’. He worked for his keep, and expected no less than that which he gave.

But he played the dice game. And lost. Three times. -- In a row.

Now he would have been a liar to say in some arena of honest, internal truth that he was not at least a touch wounded in pride to have lost so completely. But he and Captain Atwater had not played for coin, and so he was not destitute. A kindness, surely. But they had played for query, and he had been given the undue force of task to answer each one of her drunken questions.

Drunken, yes. Abighail Atwater had insisted rather immediately upon their brief meeting to be fully, wholly, up-to-the-brim-of-the-liver drunk.

Of course he was prone to assumption. While Moray was no man to speak his mind quickly, clearly, and without great provocation or demand, he did think quite a lot. He thought much, and often in fact. It was a product of character that made him so entirely apt at his profession. Both as a sailor, and as an advisor -- as it was, in the capacity of First Mate.

First Mate -- such was the title he still considered of himself despite he and the Captain Atwater’s lacking in a vessel nor crew to validate such titles. But he had been across the pendulous waves of Azeroth enough times and under enough cause to know that periods of land-lock were not uncommon foe.

Now of course those periods did not usually involve maniacal, overwhelmingly powerful pirate Lords who helmed an entire Fleet of cacophonous and chaotic clergy-crew …

But Emett Moray took the world as it came. It was not his place to question things.

Assumption. Yes he had first many assumptions when he met with Captain Atwater. It took him a good plenty of time just to recognize her in the throngs of people in the Mage District of Stormwind City given her styling of dress. For a superior officer that he had only seen in articles of uniform or men’s clothing that were likely four times larger to size of tailor than her body could account for -- it was quite jarring to see her in a dress of all things. Or was it a robe? He could not speak to the parlance of women’s clothes.

Assumptions, yes.

She wore a dress in the middling of the Grand Alliance capital, she continued to speak of a location in Westfall wherein she was currently staying, and the moment he brought up any mention of their clandestine efforts to determine the ongoing efforts of the Red Fleet and the demonic creature, Abbidas Bonnet, who led them -- she promptly demanded alcohol.

Now Emett Moray was no man to make great assumption. He would make some, as was needed to continue to exist without decapitation, ex-sanguination, or general disembowelment as a traveling humanoid of Azeroth. The world was prone to violence, unarguably.

But great assumption he made effort to avoid. Not only because it was usually incorrect and the product of personal, deep-seated biases that most people did not want to engage with on any kind of intellectual or logical level -- but because it was not in his nature.

He took the world as it came.

It was not for belief or assumption that he heard the Mother below speak to him. She spoke, he heard her, and that was all the reason he needed. There was no cause to try to inform his own consideration of the Red Lord and his divine conjurations, as he had seen and felt them. That was more than enough to believe and understand. Fire was painful, and the scrubbing of the mind by righteous power was painful, and the laceration of flesh under incantation was -- as one could imagine -- painful.

He took the world as it came.

So when he met with his Captain, a woman of some mere doubling of decades plus perhaps a handful of extra winters to accompany, and she wore a dress and seemed ruffled for mind and was uncommonly distracted from their clandestine task regarding the efforts of the pirate lord Abbidas Bonnet and she demanded alcohol with rapidity --

Well, it was no great assumption to think she was in a romantic tiff.

Of course the first assumption would be an allocated evening date that was stood up. That would explain the dress and the oddity of attitude. Nothing to destroy the logical mind there.

Second, would be, seeing as she made mention of Westfallian land that she was staying at -- and decidedly not describing it any further or giving the actual locale -- she was in a bout of issue with whomever it was she lived with. Of course one could assume that the dress implied a more personal attachment, but then against logic was unbiased and could easily explain for a more formal requirement instead. She was, even if a bastard by common law, a child of a Duke.

All these and more thoughts circulated within Emett Moray’s mind as he watched his Captain leave and -- if her word was to be believed, and he did believe her word -- head back to Westfall. She spoke to effect that she would be back in Stormwind the next day and, presumably, they could engage with some deliberation on their next move. Until such a time as a direct order offered otherwise, Moray made a point to reiterate that he would be assessing and reporting, as she had instructed, regarding the Red Fleet and its disgusting Lord-Captain.

Those thoughts and more continued to circulate as he made his way back to his prior perch, before he had made communique with Captain Atwater that evening, at Lion’s Rest. A fair spot to contemplate strategy as well as a uniquely positioned and inconspicuous cliff-side perch with which to abuse the assistance of his spyglass to watch the Stormwind Harbour.

While his contacts, of which his Captain was now well-aware of insofar as he was, had yet to give anymore useful information beyond the presumed course of one half of the Red Fleet -- a piece of intelligence he had shared, or tried to share, with Captain Atwater that evening -- Moray still remained vigilant to his own work. Stormwind was, in many ways, the beating heart and final hub to much of the machinations of any association of the Grand Alliance. And while the Red Lord was a disgusting, foul and disparaged thing who was welcome to no Alliance land -- one could never assume what was going to happen in Stormwind City any given day.

Goodness knew that was more and more true every day.

And so Emett Moray, with his broadness of form and girth at loss of height, stood and telescoped his spyglass at Lion’s Rest, eschewing the thoughts that remained regarding his Captain and the scent of oranges that newly surrounded her.

With a casual flick of the wrist, he brought up his spyglass and began to scan over the Stormwind Harbour, mind finally settling down from the --

He flared his brows and brought his spyglass down.

“-- What the fuck?”

@abighail-atwater

#RP #Canon #Too Old

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musicinsurancecompany · 5 years

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