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hag-rambling-on · 4 years ago

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Boys hc’s feats Diaspro

Riven

Riven Cassios was born to two Omega prisoners. What surprised everyone, because staying healthy enough to carry out a pregnancy on a planet that sucks your magic is... Obviously the Rocalucce Council keeps an eye on the planet, they took him out of there because no child would pay because his parents, and he has been in foster homes, although it doesn't last long since the requirements for his adoption were more strict than most -which in the long run the Council would realize was COUNTERPRODUCTIVE for his character-. That is what Darcy detects and why the high spheres are somewhat "permissive" with him.

His mother died giving birth, it was already miraculous that she lived so long and ‘bout his father I think I'm going to kill him too, maybe. The father I assure you would be love him (he called Riven to himself Daru, his gift) thought was not his initial idea, the mother always saw him as an experiment (she was a witch who followed the Ancenstresses). Ohm, also in his blood there are dark elves and giants.

Riven surname is actually the name of the galaxy where he was born or a derivation of it, as is common for orphans. So the boy knows NOTHING about the above.

Timmy and Riven are the only specialists who have passed the full course at Fonterossa, without skips. In the end they bond about it. Timmy gives him a recommendation to work as a part-time mechanic at Magix (good boy face, he knows how to use it)

Timmy

Timeus “tshhhh, it’s Timmy.... i’m not my grandfather” fulfills the physique requisits as much as any other specialist, but it is true that his physique and abilities, adapted to the distance, give him a more "feline" air.

He is also the one who wakes up at night and moves silently, scaringthe rest of the squad if they wake up unexpectedly.

His glasses are for both sight and Aura Vision. His parents are rich enough to pay for an operation, but since he would have to wear glasses for his ability anyway, why? Practical guy.

And the glasses make people look down on him, something that when his self-esteem is high and he’s being rational and cunning he knows it’s wonderful, although many others times may hurt. He is mostly leprechaum with something human.

Nex

Nex is still a Paladin born in Lymphea and with blood of literally ALL races. He adapts well to any planet, although not its people at first. His race mix makes his face “charismatic”, like always draw attention even if people don’t know very well why they are draw.

His ability is Delay Sleep. It allows him to hold over his need to sleep for days without going crazy or losing physical capacity or needing many days to recover (he can stay awake for 5 or more days, sleep 8-10 hours and go back to being his usual self). Sometimes he does not control this well and has plenty of energy in need of drop but he is the one who has the most control of his ability.

One of his parents spent time in Rocalucce Fortress as a "guest" so at times he feels like he has something to prove.

Roy

Coming from Andros, most of the population are merpeople with a few elves and humans. which avoids the 100% aquatic population. Roy, unlike Aisha is mostly human-elf with a bit of merpeople in a grandgrandgrand level. One of his parents comes from one of the colonies on the moons of Andros and he was born there although they moved almost immediately.

Roy’s paladin ability being the canon “Triton Aura” used to breathe underwater. That and learning to swim and drive all kinds of water vehicles was what made him feel "adapted" to Andros. But he always try to be useful.

He only became a Paladin at the beginning of season 6, and it was visiting him that the season began. He’s bi but he thinks of himself as straight.

Nabu

I plead guilty to liking Nabu even though I shipped Aisha with Flora and Nex. So I have a hard time thinking about him. Except, EVERY time I try to think of something. EVERY TIME. Rapunzel. So, he will never cut his hair.

But with an island instead of a tower and a babysitter (male and wizard) more dumbledoor (not, actually more like Newt Scamander mentor like).

Sometimes he misses out on some "social customs/things/normalcies" whatever is called due to his little dealing with people. He may seem naive or that don't understand sarcasm. He understands and learns quickly, but people were very respectful to him and there are things he is not used to. 1/2 merpeople 1/4 half elf 1/4 human as both of his parents are half merpeople.

He likes to swim as much as any merpeople, but they didn't let him do it much because they were afraid he would go away or lost, so he usually went off "to the heights", going up to the rooftops and things like that.

Helia

Helia is trans but keeps his first name as chosen name which I don’t understand. Also he has formally tried study practically everything he wanted. Specialist, Paladin, Wizard (of Threads). Painter.

He can't make up his mind, his family hurries him just to STOP making them dizzy and spend a few years with everything -and actually end a single “major” choice- he wants to experience, that he has a very long life and can dedicate a few decades to Everything and they can support them. Well, more or less, but he was vip pass to all these options because family connections.

Long story about Sky, Brandon and Dia.

Sky, Brandon and Diaspro's first meeting was a show. Has it all. Costumes, lies. Confusion. Kidnapping. And that is why Diaspro insists on the wedding (I would like to mention that although I don’t know her romantic orientation yet surely bi or lesbian, here, Dia is asexual. And Sky is non-binary but his parents do not approve so go for he/him to avoid problem with them. And here our story begins)

A bit of background. Brandon actually hails from Isis, the son of the military and was chosen by the whimsical chibi!Diaspro as a playmate and future personal guard (because then she believed that touching children gave "lice" and her character and age did not have the 18like wall of royal education, then in a random encounter he called her among many things what Dia's mind translated in a strange way "uncracked geode", which is a double-edged compliment in Isis that many would not accept from strangers but she liked it). Rarely they would end up becoming friends in the end. When the series begins, Brandon and Diaspro keep up with calls, which will prevent Dia's reaction with Bloom on the one hand.

On a visit (officially only from the kings of Erakyon to to the kings of Isis) for the children to get to know each other, somehow, they all ended up happily dressing up, with Sky and Dia looking like two pretty princesses and Brandon assessing whether his dress would be green or yellow because Diaspro insisted that she and Sky had already taken the blue and red and so it would be more "thematic".

Here began the first of many attacks on Sky's head, because before it had begun to be rumored (true) that Erendor had fertility problems (btw his race dwarf-high elf and Samara is leprechaum-high elf, Sky gots mostly high elf part). When they came in and saw two girls and a boy, Brandon, not the highest IQ, but one of the wisest of his team and definitely the best fighter, played along so he ended up pretending to be Sky (also helps that his hair colors looks like Erendor) Everything worked out well in the end, although Brandon ended up as Sky's squire (better for him, worse for Diaspro), and Diaspro made Sky promise that he owed her a big favor. Anyway they grew up over the years in friendship and they both knew they were not of each other's true love interest, but, they could put up with each other (because that's what royalty does).

Sky and Diaspro have a sonorous (affectionate) war over Sky's hair to annoy/exasperate Brandon. Diaspro always complains that he doesn't grow it and it would look great then. Sky says that he is fine as with his hair at it is (it's actually Erendor's thing). The soft part of Diaspro that she doesn't usually show off has taught Sky many ways to style his hair and subtly put on makeup to look more feminine if he wants to.

How I am amused by that image from wikipedia and that Diaspro entered Sky's guard so quickly. Another headcanon is that Diaspro would sometimes change her appearance a bit and go into Sky's guard to be with Brandon to annoy him and Sky, when Brandon has to talk about her without giving details, she is simply "his sister Charbonne" (she hates that alias). They were discovered when she was 15 years old but she had already trained and the royal families considered it a sign to formalize the engagement since “they search each other” (people only sees what they wants).

The Diaspro family is not good, first Brandon was a shield (emotional) because as a child they were not “that” bad and then Sky joined him (physically and politically), handling things with Bloom so like that was not a good idea when the floor was full of cracked bottles.

... omg i’m sorry you three i’m sorry what I did to you

Also, Brandon's ability as a green user is very interesting and helps with this a lot. I temporally call it “Keypoint Warning” and I like it a lot, it's like a "tic" that tells him "be careful, what you say, what you do now, even the smallest thing could change everything for youself (for better or for worse)”. He actually has a scar on his forehead (not a lightning bolt) that his hairstyle hides after “that” day but a little less fine on the words and the kidnappers might have broken his mouth so... His parents have been cured (spoiler: no) of heart attack since then.

#winx #winx club #rewinxing #winx rewrite #winx specialists #winx paladins #winx timmy #winx brandon #winx riven #rambling about winx #winx helia #winx sky #winx roy #winx nabu #winx nex #winx diaspro

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gyuutahoe · 5 years ago

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The Pen and Sword - Part 1

Summary: Newly recruited to the Demon Slayer Corps, you finally meet your designated swordsmith. He may be as much of a misanthrope as others had warned, but you were nothing if not determined to bring him out of his shell.

Warnings: None

a/n: female reader, eventual smut, penpals with the feral misanthrope, both reader and Haganezuka are seventeen at the start of the story.

Upon official induction into the Demon Slayer Corps, you spent day and night at the residence of a safehouse thinking about the blade you would soon wield. Nobody had asked you about your fighting style. You were simply instructed to trust the swordsmith that you were assigned to, and trust in him you shall.

Nothing could have prepared you for the man who many regarded as an utter misfortune to work with. You had waited patiently with the kind old mistress of the safehouse at the front steps of the manor, and immediately upon hearing the distant melody of wind chimes, she hung her head and sighed.

“Dear me, who would have thought to match a beautiful maiden to this young man?” she lamented.

“What do you mean?” you asked, and the woman looked at you sympathetically.

“That swordsmith’s temper fuels his forge,” she replied. “A word of advice - you are young and inexperienced. There will no doubt come time for you to break your sword. When that time comes, please do not take his ramblings to heart.” She rubbed her chin in thought. “Although, even the strongest steel bends to unyielding heat … “

You curiously glanced at the approaching figure. It was impossible to glean any sort of human feature from how heavily clothed he was, and his face was obscured by a wide-brimmed hat lined with the wind chimes that effortlessly soothed your mind. You closed your eyes for a moment, and listened.

Rustling leaves. Soft breaths beside you, comforting and motherly. Singing cicadas cutting your senses, only to be mended by whimsical tinkling, glass pinging against glass, it sharpens your awareness into a singular point -

“I think … “ You bowed politely to the swordsmith as he came nearer. “Anyone who has such a gentle song to them must be pure of heart.”

The hostess threw you a surprised look and muffled a quiet laugh behind the sleeve of her kimono. “You are a lovely young woman. Protect that innocence. It is sure to win you a splendid husband someday.”

You had little time to think of an adequate response, so frazzled by her brazen statement. And that is how the swordsmith met you, catching an eyeful of your reddened face as you sputtered nonsensical words to the hostess and gripped her sleeve like a child.

Haganezuka Hotaru. Immediate threat to say nothing of his given name. You could not stop staring at his strange mask. It looked a little demonic, if you were being honest, and the undercurrent of sternness as he explained the importance of maintaining your sword’s integrity made you wonder if perhaps the warnings about him were true. But his voice was youthful and he spoke with such heartfelt passion for his craft that you felt comforted by his humanity. He could not have been much older than you, if even that - a teenager on the cusp of adulthood. Haganezuka was simply a dedicated swordsmith, and you would become a demon slayer worthy of having such a fine man supporting your endeavors.

You listened to his explanation about the construction of nichirin blades with rapt attention as you kneeled across from him.The hostess sat off to the side and politely watched from a distance. Your heart raced in anticipation as Haganezuka finally unveiled your sword, removing the protective cloth with reverent care as he handed you the sheathed blade.

“I am honored,” you earnestly said, reaching out to hold the sword with both hands. The weight felt just right, not too light and not too heavy.

“You should be,” Haganezuka deadpanned. “Take care of my precious work, you hear me? I am not a forgiving man, should something go wrong. You understand?”

The hostess audibly sighed, and you quickly answered before he became offended. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He waved a hand at you impatiently. “Go on, take a look!” The corner of your mouth turned upward at the sudden excitement in his voice. “The nichirin blade is also known as the color-changing sword. The metal takes on a certain color depending on who wields it.”

“The Roaring Pillar used a golden sword … “ you absentmindedly murmured as you laid the weapon on your lap. The sharp, pungent smell of lightning was permanently embedded into your memory after your first encounter. The ringing sound of the warrior’s breath style still sent shivers down your spine.

Haganezuka’s intent stare brought you back to the present. It was as if the very air itself quieted down for the unveiling. You grasped the crimson handle and pulled the scabbard away to reveal your first sword.

“Focus on your breathing while you hold it,” Haganezuka explained. “Or however you slayers do it.”

The hostess shifted imperceptibly. “Trust in your senses, child. You are attuned to sound. Use it to summon the spirit of your blade.”

And so you listened.

The blade rested comfortably against your thighs. A bird chirped beautifully from the treetops. Haganezuka’s wind chimes sang their whimsical tune. But you did not call upon these sounds. You wanted to know how the metal would speak to you.

You placed two fingertips at the base of the blade, beside the lovely handguard you had failed to admire properly. The braided grooves of the handle held your hand steady as you trailed your fingertips across the cold metal. As they moved, so too did a soothing sound come forth to greet you, and a pale blue glow crept through the path you made.

“What a beautiful color,” you breathed.

“It’s no red blade, but it’ll do the job,” Haganezuka muttered. “Then again, you don’t seem the type to … no, your aura is all wrong. Too gentle.”

You did not know whether that was a compliment or not, but you blushed all the same. “Are red swords special?”

“Yes.”

“ … “ You wanted to hear more, but the swordsmith already had his back to you as he gathered the wooden box that transported your sword. “Will you be staying the night, Haganezuka-san?” you asked with a hint of hopefulness.

“No. Too much work to be done.”

You furrowed your brows. Haganezuka was a man of either too many words, or too little, it seemed. “That is a shame,” you lamented, lifting the sword to inspect the handguard at last. “I hoped you would stay. There’s so much more I wanted to learn about nichirin blades … “

Haganezuka stilled and turned his head slightly towards you. “Why would you want that?”

“How else can I utilize a weapon without fully understanding it?”

“Ask a mentor.”

“Wouldn’t that be you?” He looked back at you fully now, the jerking motion causing the wind chimes to sing. The gormless stare of his painted eyes did not deter you. “Who better to ask than the very person who poured his soul into my blade? This sword is a part of you just as much as it is a part of me.” You smiled, sheathed your weapon, and bowed your head. “Please stay a while, Haganezuka-san.”

“You think your time is worth more than my duties?”

The unrestrained bite in his question caused your confidence to waiver.

“If you educate her properly,” the hostess piped up. “Then that would mean less chances for accidents to occur, yes?”

The effect was immediate. Haganezuka stood up so quickly that you fell back in surprise, and pointed down at you with renewed zeal. “First, I will drill it into your empty head that you should never, ever put your grubby fingers on that precious metal.” He prodded your forehead as he spoke. “And then, I will show you how to clean your sword. Then, I will teach you how to unsheathe your blade without wearing down the blade or scabbard. Then and only then will I teach you how to sharpen the edge. You will not sleep, Demon Slayer. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir!”

True to his word, you did not sleep. But your blade sang happily as you followed Haganezuka’s instructions during your lessons, and that had been enough to invigorate you. Metal may bend to intense heat, but the hammer of his swift tutelage removed all impurities of ignorance from your mind.

#kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #haganezuka hotaru #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #haganezuka/reader

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kpopfanfictrash · 5 years ago

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Fire and Darkness

Member: Seokjin (BTS)

Prompt: Song!drabble, inspired by You Should See Me in a Crown, Bilie Eillish

Rating: PG-13

Idea: Persephone!Y/N + Hades!Seokjin

WC: 2,421

↳ part of my 30K milestone drabble game

“More wine?” Seokjin offers, politely dabbing his lips with a dark, linen napkin.

The entire table is elegantly set with fine silver plating and red bouquets of poppies. Poppies are your mother’s favorite flower, although you could have told Seokjin she would remain unimpressed. Demeter regards the dinner before her with the stiff boredom of the upper class, deigning to dine with the lesser.

“No, thank you.” Deliberate, the goddess sets down her fork. “I rarely indulge when I travel. Tell me, daughter,” she says, turning to you. “How go things in the Underworld?”

Demeter says the word Underworld in the same way some might say vermin. Arching a brow, Seokjin faces you in tandem. His lips are pressed tightly together, as though he is trying to hold in his laughter.

“The same as usual,” you say with a shrug. “Fire. Torture. Lots of dead people.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch, though he remains silent. His dark aura is prominent, rolling off him in waves. When you first met, you found this to be intimidating but now, his power is merely a comfort to you. A solid reassurance he sits there beside you.

Demeter winces at your bluntness. “Well.” Lifting a small piece of ambrosia, she daintily chews. “At least there are only three months left of your banishment, daughter. Soon, you’ll be home where you belong. On Mount Olympus.”

Seokjin’s grip on his knife tightens.

He harbors no love lost for Olympus, for the brothers who cast him out with nary a thought. You hold little love for the mountain either, but this is a fact Demeter chooses to ignore.

“Yes, of course,” you say, reaching out for your glass. The dark gemstones of your diadem glimmer when you turn your head. “I welcome the day.”

If your mother truly listened, she would hear the lie in your voice, but Demeter either does not, or will not. Seokjin does, though. His gaze permeates the dark haze of the room; he is looking at you, always looking at you. This is his dominion, after all – the depths of the Underworld. The endless shadow realm with which he was tasked to rule. It is his Kingdom which Demeter insults. Your Kingdom, as well, for six months of the year.

This was the bargain struck behind both of your backs.

Releasing a sigh, Demeter adjusts her fork on the table. “I am sorry this had to be done, darling,” she says, reaching out for your hand. Although you stiffen, you try not to bite back. “Leaving you down here with him... such a horrible God in such a dastardly place…”

Seokjin lifts a brow. “Horrible, yes. Deaf? Sadly not.”

Demeter continues as though he has not spoken. “Trust me,” she says. “I’m doing everything in my power to convince the Pantheon of your return.”

“Oh, please.” Yanking your hand back, you cut into your meal. “As though you weren’t part of the decision to send me here. You wanted to marry me off to the Underworld. You hoped I would mother a new God.”

Your marriage was a surprise to you, although it shouldn’t have been. These things do happen occasionally. The main pantheon of Gods convene and force the marriage of the lesser, hoping for a child who might bolster their ranks. You know this is what happened to you, even if no one will say it outright.

Demeter’s cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. “That is not why you were sent here.”

“Oh?” Equally delicately, you set your silverware down. “So, am I to believe the official version? The human version? The one where Seokjin saw me, kidnapped me and tied me to his bedposts – yes?”

“Completely inaccurate.” Seokjin continues to chew. “I only tie those to my bed who ask to be tied there.”

You continue glaring at Demeter. “We all know the truth, mother. Let us not play pretend.”

Seokjin’s smile widens at your fierceness. He loves it when you get like this; when you are boiling over with purpose and passion. It was one of the first compliments he gave you. This was after your wedding, spoken out of surprise – that someone as seemingly delicate as you were could command such fierce anger.

Gaze narrowed, you meet your mother’s stare head-on. “Do not enter our home and proceed to spout lies.”

“Our.” Demeter’s lips thin. “My, that did not take long. How quickly the world changes, darling.”

“Does it?” You reach out, tracing a line down the petals of a poppy. Instantly, the blood-red veins brighten. “I have never truly felt Mount Olympus was my home. Not in the same way you do. I am not one of the twelve. I am not in charge of anything big, nor important and I was treated as such. Here, though...”

You leave your thought unfinished. Lifting your gaze to your mother’s, you settle back in your seat. The darkness becomes you, glinting off your crown.

Demeter clenches her jaw. “You act as though the Underworld is preferable to Olympus.”

“Olympus has never been kind to me.”

“Nor to me.” Casually, Seokjin swirls his wine. “Namjoon has always been rather touchy about the sky and Taehyung, the sea. It is not as though I chose this land to govern, you know. Of course you do,” he says, his upper lip curled. “You were there in the beginning, Demeter.”

Demeter draws herself taller. “And yet,” she says, facing him for the very first time. “You seem to have done well enough for yourself.”

Seokjin’s smile widens.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, a river of glowing fire is visible. Steam curls wherever lava touches obsidian, gemstones glimmering on either side. It is a stunning visual, if a somewhat unconventional one. There is nothing like it on Mount Olympus.

“I make do,” Seokjin says simply.

Sniffing, Demeter pushes her chair back to stand. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay for that nightcap,” she says, her hands folded before her. Soft, violet light radiates from her form. “I must return to my duties.”

“Pity.” Your chair screeches when you stand, yet you pay this no mind. “The visit was too short.”

Demeter’s eyes narrow as she nods, as though in agreement. Turning around, she glides across the floor.

In any other domain, Demeter would simply vanish at will. Not in the Underworld though, where beings can only come and go at Seokjin’s behest. Gods and mortals alike must exit in the same manner – rowed across the river Styx by Charon, beneath the gaping jaws of Cerberus.

Seokjin watches your mother leave, a polite smile on his lips. When the door closes behind her, echoing through the room, he holds up a hand. Seokjin waits, listening for something before his body relaxes.

“She’s gone,” he says, glancing your way. “Just exited the palace. Charon will take it from there.”

Still staring at the door, you pull yourself from your thoughts. Turning around, you push your mother from mind as you stride towards the window. Each step you take transforms your clothes, lengthening and darkening from the springtime colors you know your mother prefers. Loosening your hair, you let this fall to your neck.

Coming to a stop, you survey the world at your feet. On your first day in the Underworld, you were determined to hate it. There were no pleasant stories about the darkest of Gods. Seokjin was rumored to be moody and fierce, with the gall of enjoying the hellish Kingdom he ruled.

Of course – as it is with most things concerning the Gods – Seokjin was not as he seemed.

He was moody, yes and he could be fierce when provoked. Never to you though, which you saw right away. The Gods warned you he loved to play games and so, when you met, you had your guard up.

Despite this, he greeted you at the gates for your arrival. Your first day was a tour; Seokjin led you through the Underworld with the same reserved politeness as a tour guide on holiday.

You saw none of his legendary fire and brimstone then – Seokjin merely nodded, leading you around the palace. His realm was nothing at all like what you’d imagined. The other Gods only spoke of the Underworld disparagingly, with a tinge of fear to their tone. They said Seokjin’s Kingdom was the land of dead things, of cold things, but now you know better.

The Underworld is a realm of fire and darkness, of whimsy and spirit – there are no limits within as to what you can achieve. In the reflection of the palace window, you see Seokjin walk up alongside you.

His appearance has also changed with the departure of Demeter. Instead of his company garments, Seokjin is dressed in a plain tunic and trousers. His hair is darker, messier and framing his face. No jewelry adorns his body, save for the gold band upon his finger.

Upon reaching your side, Seokjin glances sideways. “Are you alright?”

Slowly, you nod. Still staring at the wasteland, your gaze roams molten lakes, rugged mountains and glimmering terrain. Beyond the river Phlegethon, which cuts through the gardens, lies the region of Tartarus wherein rest the damned. Seokjin keeps them close by, lest they escape and harm the rest of the Underworld.

The rest of your kingdom is nothing like this. Elysium is by far your favorite part of your domain – full of golden meadows which smell of baked bread, fields of asphodel which bloom in whimsical colors. Seokjin loves to change them at his fancy. He loves it even more when you do the same.

All other Gods reign over the living. They control whatever handful of mortals populate its surface and yet, beneath it all, you and Seokjin are masters of creation.

Nodding, you turn. “I am,” you assure, stepping closer.

Reaching out, Seokjin delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He looks at you tenderly, despite the fire to his gaze. In response, a blistering heat spreads over your body. Before you met Seokjin, you didn’t understand this connection. You only knew of want, of need – never of this. Never of love.

The first few months in his land were admittedly lonely. Seokjin gave you space, staying as far away from the palace as possible. He thought he was granting you a favor by this; he thought you hated him, like the rest of the Gods.

With time though, the ice between you began to thaw. Your glances lengthened in nature, touches softened and lingered. Before you knew what was happening, you were paying attention.

You found Seokjin not as serious as the rest of the Gods said. Most of his fierceness was reserved for his domain. When he was not ruling, Seokjin dearly loved to laugh. One night he said he loved your laugh the most.

When you returned to Olympus, you didn’t realize how difficult the separation would be.

You thought you would enjoy being home. You imagined when you came back things would return to normal, but the shadows of Seokjin clung to your existence. Most nights you lay awake and imagined his touch. Most days, your thoughts strayed to his arms, to his kisses and the inexorable sound of his laughter.

Without him, the halls of Olympus felt strangely empty.

You only saw him once during those long summer months – the solstice; a night where all gods gathered on Mount Olympus to celebrate. Even Seokjin was to attend, the mighty God of the Underworld, who rarely left his realm of darkness.

The moment he set foot on the mountain, you knew. You could feel his presence in your bones, you glanced up when he entered and found him looking at you. When your gazes met, he softened. When you saw him, you strengthened.

And then, you realized everyone around you had stiffened. That was when you saw Olympus for what it truly was. As the bride of the Underworld, you finally saw how they treated him. Seokjin was a God. He was a member of the Pantheon, one of the most powerful beings in existence and yet, he was held separate.

Seeing how cruel the Olympians were tore you apart; it replaced the ache in your chest with a fierce desire.

When your six months of penance were over, you fairly flung yourself across the river Styx. Seokjin waited calmly when you ran into his arms. That was the moment you realized where you belonged.

At home – with him.

Tilting your chin upwards, you meet Seokjin’s gaze. “You aren’t horrible, you know.”

He raises a brow. “How rude,” he says as he draws you near. “I don’t come into your home and insult your better nature.”

“This is my home.”

“Oh, right.” Seokjin hovers above your mouth. “The sentiment stands.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you chide, sliding hands up his back.

Seokjin shivers – the fearsome lord of the Underworld, undone by your touch. “I wouldn’t,” he admits, bending to brush his nose with yours.

Satisfied, your grip on him tightens. Since you fell in love, you have found parts of yourself which lay dormant before. You uncovered a carnal, seductive woman who takes what she desires. Before, you always asked for permission. Before, you always waited for permission to be granted.

With Seokjin though, you’re his Queen and there is no need to ask. He encourages you to act on your desires – insists upon it.

Tilting your head, you brush your lips with his. The moment before your lips touch, something inexplicable crosses his expression. Something almost like uncertainty, which gives you pause.

“What is it?” you say, pulling back.

Seokjin hesitates, which is unusual. Although he is quiet, Seokjin speaks his mind freely to you. Still, the shadows behind him seem to lengthen with each passing second.

“Do you…” His normally stoic gaze flickers. “Do you wish Demeter to be successful?”

“What do you mean?”

Seokjin strokes your cheek with his thumb. “The rest of the Pantheon put you here. My brothers put you here. It was not your choice to marry me, even if I did not ask. Do you ever… wish to return?”

Your answer requires no pause. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” you say, stepping closer. Pressing your chest to his, you look up. “My burden is not what you imagine it to be.”

“No?” Seokjin seems mildly amused by your certainty. “Pray tell.”

“Perhaps it was at first,” you admit, wanting to be honest. “I didn’t want to leave the world I knew. But now...” You glance past him, to where the river Phlegethon cuts a golden path through the gardens. It sends a strange hum of rightness through you. “I would not be anywhere else. My burden now is being parted from you,” you whisper, returning to Seokjin.

Hope flickers, however brief, within his dark gaze.

“You brought me to life,” you say, hands sliding up his back. “With you,” you add, meeting his gaze. “I finally feel like myself.”

Something sparks in him then, lowering his beautiful brow to yours. “You are the only alive thing in this world,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin. “If I played the smallest part in this, my Queen, then consider me satisfied.”

“Satisfied?” you purr, lips lifted in a smile.

Seokjin’s dark gaze turns carnal. “Never,” he confesses, kissing you deeply.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin au #jin au #bts au #seokjin writing #bts writing #jin writing #seokjin drabble #jin drabble #bts drabble

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inkperch · 4 years ago

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Lady Bird and Magpie, C1D1

I’m in a Lady Bird and Magpie mood, so have a sneak preview of chapter 1! It’s only half finished, gotta write the fight-y parts still and then go back and clean everything up, but here you go! (also, finally figured out how to do Line Breaks!)

Winter Schnee woke up, and immediately wished she hadn’t. It couldn’t be later than seven, her alarm had yet to go off, yet already Kay and Robbie were at each other’s throats, Rose hesitantly trying to mediate. In her half-asleep haze, she vaguely tried to follow, catching a few stray words as she tried to drift back to sleep for a few more moments of plausible deniability regarding her team. Of course, even considering it was massively irresponsible- she was the leader, it was her job to break up such disputes, even if they happened with irritating frequency. And besides, now her alarm was ringing, if nothing else she needed to turn that off.

“What are you two arguing about?”

Kay and Robbie both whirled to face her as she sat up in bed with a stretch, with a guilty smile and an annoyed glare respectively.

“Sorry Win, we just had an… uh… academic dispute?” Kay tried, scratching the back of his head nervously.

For once, Robbie didn’t take the chance to rat him out, simply scowling at everyone and throwing herself onto her top bunk, above Winter’s own. Hopefully, she’d be done sulking by the time classes started, Winter didn’t have the energy for another fight this week. She’d already had to start two, and it was only Thursday. Kay dropped onto his bunk, picking up a discarded book and starting to read as though nothing had happened. Rose looked between her two friends, hesitantly trying to speak before awkwardly meeting Winter’s eyes. Taking that as a cue to leave, Winter grabbed her uniform from the closet and headed into the bathroom to change.

When she was done, instead of lingering in her dorm and finding a way to kill and hour, as her team was no doubt doing, she headed out. The library was only a short walk from their dorms, so if she were quick, she may get some light studying done before class. Maybe she’d even treat herself, and pickup a recreational book for study breaks? She was feeling particularly whimsical today, despite the rough start…

So lost in thought, she nearly didn’t notice the old man crossing her path until it was to late, forcing her to rapidly push herself out of the way with her glyphs, sending her over him in a perfectly executed front flip.

“I’m so sorry sir! I didn’t see you there!” Winter said, head bowed, “What are you doing on Atlas Academy’s campus so early, today? Can I assist you in any way?”

“You’re a polite one, aren’t you?” The man said, a small smile gracing his face, “I’m just going for a stroll. My son attended here in his youth, and… well, I heard there’s a memorial to… former students on the grounds.”

“Oh.” The old man was on the wrong end of campus for the memorial. It was the centrepiece of a garden on the opposite end of the dorms, Winter often went there to study in peace. “I can escort you there, if you wish?”

“Oh, I’d hate to be an inconvenience, I’m sure I’ll make my way there eventually,”

“You’d be no inconvenience, really,” Winter lied, “I owe you besides, for nearly running into you before,”

“No harm no foul, really,” The old man insisted, “But, if you insist… I think I’m a little lost?”

“Yes, very- this way sir.”

-#-

Robyn stood up and stretched as her final teacher of the day dismissed the bored Grimm Studies class. Well, Robyn was bored. Fiona had seemed pretty attentive, despite May and Jo arm wrestling right next to her. Speaking of Fiona- Robyn gave a quiet ‘thanks’ as she scooped all of team RGMT’s books into her Semblance. Robyn waved her team on ahead with a smile and headed off to the library. She had an assignment to complete for her Weapon Maintenance class, on the maintenance of the Atlas Military’s regulation weapons. So, utterly useless to her, but she still needed a passing grade in the class, so to the library it was.

At least, that was the plan- as she was walking across the campus a giant thing seemingly made out of paper charged into campus and started smashing buildings.

Okay. So it was that kinda day.

Like most of the students lurking around campus, Robyn pulled out her crossbow and started blasting. Presumably, some idiot had let a Geist get into the library or something for a dumb prank, its shell seemed to be entirely paper, so Fire Dust was the way to go, right? That seemed the general consensus, as an honestly impressive volley of flaming projectiles flew towards the Geist. Still, somehow, the paper didn’t light, and not one student got a lucky hit on its mask. Wait. Where was its mask? It should be visible- if not when they started, it should’ve whirled to face them by now. Where was the mask?

Why did it seem bigger than when they started?

“I am Payback! Turn over the Schnee and the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous, or die!”

…the courtyard was silent enough you could hear a pin drop. This- this wasn’t a Grimm. It couldn’t be a Grimm- it was talking! Whatever the giant fire-proof-paper monster was, it wasn’t a Geist. It had to be... something else! A semblance, or a robot, or... or some weird experiment! And, just in case that wasn’t enough to fuck someone up, it threw an arm out and sent a wave of fire back into the stunned crowd. So, the giant fuck-off paper monster wasn’t a Grimm and could deflect their shit. Just perfect.

Luckily for the stunned students in range of the attack, a giant glyph appeared and, through it, a massive, white, Nevermore took the brunt the wall of fire, disappearing in one hit. Winter Schnee stood proudly, sword aloft.

“If you want a Schnee, here I am!”

Ok, so, the Schnee heiress has a death wish, good to know. Robyn was about to run forward to help, because of course she was, when an ominous cracking sound came from behind her. Turning around, she saw a tall old man, with a cane just out of his reach, underneath an ominously leaning statue. It looked like it had been hit by a stray spout of fire, knocking it off balance on its pedestal. She dashed forward as the statue came tumbling down- shit, she wouldn’t have time to grab him and leave, this was gonna hurt. She unfurled her weapon into its shield mode and held it above her head, catching the large statue more on her aura than her arms.

“Run!” She yelled, kicking his cane into his reach. Not the most tactful approach but fuck it she had a massive statue on her back, she could apologise when he was safe. The old man grasped his cane and dragged himself from under the statue. As she shoved it to the side with a pulse of her aura, he stared at the Schnee morosely, before turning back to her.

“Miss Hill, was it?” he asked, blue eyes piercingly sharp.

“…yeah? You ok, sir?”

“I was not. I have you to thank for my saving. A humbling experience to be sure.” His hand hovered over his earrings, two plain black studs. “…this experience has reminded me of something a dear friend has been trying to tell me for a long time.”

“Um. Ok.” Robyn nodded, and accepted that random information. The old man was probably slightly in shock, if she’d been a second slower, he’d be a goo right now. “Where can I take you to be safe?”

“No where, if that Akuma isn’t stopped.” He pulled out his earrings, which… changed colour? They turned from plain black studs to bright red gems. That… didn’t look like Dust? His semblance, maybe? “Your semblance… it shows you whether the other party is speaking truthfully, does it not?”

Robyn couldn’t help but feel like she was making a massive mistake as she nodded, and followed his beckoning gesture into the covered garden, casting anxious glances to where the Schnee was fighting. He turned back to face her, hand outstretched. She took it.

“What is your favourite Fairy tale?”

#rwby #Lady Bird and Magpie #miraculous ladybug #crossover #au #Winter Schnee #robyn hill #schneewood forest #(I'll remove that if people want me to I know we aren't there yet)#ocs

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yandere-society · 5 years ago

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Candy Man

Synopsis: Stepping into the world-famous Hope World Candy Factory the day of Valentine’s Day, you are filled with an overwhelming number of sweets and surprises. As a confectionary lover, this is your dream, to not only see the inside of the glittering multi-colored building, but maybe get a glimpse of the interesting man behind all the delicious desserts. There’s also something here, lingering behind every jelly bean wall or chocolate cove. After getting separated from a tour group, you think maybe this was a mistake to come in here so carefree. There may be something sinister behind these seemingly harmless candies.

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Word Count: 4,300+

Admin: @mintedmango

Valentine’s Day Event Masterlist

Trigger warnings: Yandere-themes, mentions of death/murder, mentions of gore, blood, passing out/fainting, knives, improvised weapons, being tied down/restrained, hospital beds, unhealthy thinking relationships, cannibalism.

The skin of your lips was being peeled off by your teeth as you nervously flit from foot to foot on your elevator ride up the see-through jelly tube. You could see almost every chocolate cove and red vine tree from the pink tubing your tour group was being brought down to. Your heart was pumping rapidly with a mix of excited and full of tension, and your empty stomach was rumbling as butterflies fluttered, trapped inside. You weren’t sure anymore if not eating this morning to make room for all the sweets that one could possibly enjoy was a good idea.

You were so anxious you could hardly stand it. Ever since you learned that the infamous Hope World Candy Factory was opening up one day to the public for the first time, you decided you just had to fly across the country and see it for yourself. You’ve loved the company and all the creations that they make ever since you had your first Daydream Bar at the tender age of five.

All you had to do was buy a ticket for the factory (that costs a pretty, pretty penny, mind you) and you were set for the whole day!

The only catch though was that it was only open on Valentine’s Day and it was strictly for couples to come and enjoy a romantic, sweet-filled day in the candy factory...

And of course, you were as single as single could be.

That’s just how life goes, right?

The elevator lurches to a halt suddenly and you almost stop breathing, your excitement overwhelming you.

“Everyone, step lightly, we have much to see!” Says a stout woman with green hair and carrot-colored skin as she ushers everyone out of the tube and into a dim room with a tiny, tiny door at the end of the hallway. “Now,” she whispers, as she grabs what looks to be different colored (and probably flavored you assume) gelatin keys and sticks a goldenrod one through the small keyhole. “Beyond this door is where you get to roam the marvelous Grand Garden.”

You gulp, mind full of wonder and awe as you watch her turn the key, and it glitters and sparkles with the bright light beyond the door, much like your eyes right now.

From the moment of purchasing your own golden ticket, you have been scouring the internet in hopes you would find more info about the Hope World Factory and the mysterious secrets it keeps locked up tight behind its doors. There wasn’t much on the Jung family or the current CEO of the factory. Just rumors of an immense and large edible garden, with so much grandeur and thought put into it, it was something straight out of a fairy tale book.

“Everything is edible.” She states with a smile before pushing open the door. “But please be advised to stay within the walls of the garden with your partner, or you could end up in some serious… hot chocolate.”

A few people in your group snicker at her sweet-treated pun, but you can’t focus on anything except seeing what is beyond that bland-colored door, wanting to know if the rumors of splendor are true. Your palms are sweaty and your mind blank with anticipation.

“Please come back to this door, under the raspberry truffle tree in one hour!” She smiles as she finally pushes the door open for you all to run inside, and see what the Jung family has been hiding for decades. “It’s something out of your purest imagination!”

Speaking of Jung family, you wonder if the rumors are true: the family's youngest son is in charge of the factory now, after his sister got engaged to a rival candy company’s heir. So many whispers and hush-hush with this family, you swear! Deep down you really wanted gossip and drama from them, as selfish as that sounds. You wish they were a little bit messy and spill their internal secrets to the world. So you only really knew what the internet and late-night television hosts would spread amongst the airways, which were usually ridiculous words of slander and vile garbage.

But what you do know about the famous sweet CEO was that he has an amazing taste in everything from cars, to clothes, especially to candy and you’ve heard that he has an amazing, dazzling smile. Supposedly, and according to the rumors circulating everywhere.

“Where’s your date, young lady?” The woman with white eyebrows asks up to you with a serious smile on her orange lips, breaking your inner thoughts. Her eyes rake your features up and down, like a human scanner, and you can’t help but gulp. You hoped all your hard work was not in vain.

“Uh-He’s in...the bathroom.” You lie with a wry smile, hoping she’ll buy it with just enough time to get you into the room she’s so close to unlocking.

She purses her lips and looks away from you, but doesn’t ask you anything further on the manner.

“Have fun in the garden!” She says instead of throwing you out and opens the plain door to the grandest thing you think you’ve ever seen.

Couples scream and laugh as they whiz past you on your journey to roam freely around the edible valley. You can’t be bothered though, as your mouth is going to collect dust if you leave it unhinges for too long.

There are no words. You couldn’t fathom half the things in this room. Is this even a factory anymore, or are you in heaven?

It’s… simply breathtaking.

The online forms were right - there is a giant edible garden - but the words and descriptions on screen didn’t do the real thing any justice. And, of course, they confiscated your phones even before you entered the building so you couldn’t document this creation out of a book come to life scene unfolding before your eyes.

You are stunned as you walk on the hardened peanut butter cup path towards the giant garden in the middle of four, high walls. Your eyes sparkle, filling with tears of joy upon seeing the beautiful, wonderful sights before your eyes, covering your mouth as the couples in your tour guide pass by your idle body. It is seriously extremely super overwhelming: your senses are going on overdrive as your sockets roam over every inch of the garden that you can see. You just need a moment to take everything in.

There is so much - so many details and little things going on.

Trees made of marbled dark and milk chocolate stand tall, protruding into the blue-raspberry colored sky, pastel cotton candy clouds wisping around above you. Most of the whimsical looking plants bear fruit of all kinds and gummy leaves hanging low off their perfectly carved branches. You hear a trickle of something, like a stream of water, and see that there is a tiny clear yet caffeinated creek of soda-pop softly crackling its way through the garden. Following your eyes, you see there’s realistic grey rock-candy gravel and well, rocks, underfoot as well as strings of grass you can only assume are sour green-apple flavored, or even possibly key-lime pie? You can’t be certain but you can’t wait to try it! There’s a fountain spewing caramel in the middle of the garden, surrounded by a pool of white chocolate, and it's held together by what looks to be a brick, but upon a further glance, you suspect that it’s potentially licorice or Twizzlers, or a combination of both. There’s tables, chairs, and benches made out of finely crafted shortbread cookies placed along the peanut butter paths of the edible wonderland. There are colorful flowers made of lollipops and sugared, blown glass softly billowing in the artificial breeze, seemingly waving at you as you gawk on in shock.

It’s all too beautiful. Your mind is having trouble processing everything until you hear an excited scream about life-sized gummy bear bushes and you can’t help, but want to investigate further.

Your feet finally start to move as you are openly sniffling and crying: you are such a happy mess.

A stout figure smiles at your back, a menacing aura surrounding her as she presses a single digit on her smartwatch to the man behind this beautiful room and factory.

“Fritz?” He questions, nearly shrieking through the speaker with excitement. “How are our esteemed guests doing?”

“Oh… Well, I suppose,” her upper lip curves into something dreadfully evil. “But, we have a lost little crumb who decided to bend the rules and attend the party without a date.”

The young CEO sighs into the receiver, watching everything unfold from his observation deck placed high above the ground, in order to study the humans roaming around his perfect, edible garden.

He knows. He’s known since she walked in here that she was alone and didn’t have a special someone to share this day of candy hearts and love songs to.

Which was perfect because well, you see, neither did he.

He sighs as he tips his silkened purple top hat up to view the mesmerized crowd down below, throwing up his dark leather boots on the desk in the observation deck. Deep down, the young man was lonely, hiding his family’s recipes and secrets for the rest of his life due to the enigma that was the candy business. His usually jovial smile turns into a sour frown as he watches her stand shell-shocked by the river of soda pop, staring up into the cotton candy clouds. Or, paradise, as he calls it.

It was as if she was looking at him, knowing there was someone watching her admire and take in all the hard work that he and his staff have given to the largest and most amazing room in the factory. He leans into the window, removing his boots from the desk to watch her with her mouth agape take in the splendor and majesty that was his garden. His eyes widen as he studies her expression. She hasn’t even eaten or enjoyed anything in the room yet… Why is that he wonders? Was she a spy for another company? No, it was more like she was in complete disbelief that this was even real. Almost like she was marveling at his handy work...

Suddenly, the young man clad in his expensive purple suit has a wicked thought. Oh yes! If she is a fan of confections of any kind she will be a great asset to the company and myself! A dream only someone of his caliber who’s spent so much of his time up in the clouds could fathom. Or she’ll do nicely for some company if I end up breaking her in the process then!

“Fritz,” he presses his watch up to his lips that curve into a devious smile. “Bring her up.” His amber eyes turn dark and cloudy as he thinks of his lair, a lab where he designs desserts and candies of all kinds. “I think we found our new taste tester.”

Oh wow! This is really unlike anything you could even dare of dreaming! You don’t think anything can ever compare to the concoctions and creations that the Hope World Factory has let the outside world enjoy for a mere afternoon. It didn’t seem right to you to try anything. If you ate and ruined all the time it took someone to place here so craftily and carefully. No. You didn’t think you could.

Unlike some...

A playful screech comes from your left and you duck just in time to see a flash of white pass right by your nose.

You watch with mirth as a couple runs by you, throwing marshmallow fluff off the cherry flavored giant mushrooms placed delicately around the garden. They scream and fly past you, making a mess of the precise and wonderful dessert and bakery items it probably took a whole team of people to create. You frown with judgmental eyes, studying the pair of grown adults act like they were children.

Though you suppose, candy does revert you back to your childhood, where everything was much more innocent and easy to deal with.

It was amazing what a room of sweets could do to a group of people.

They race around, running this way and that, laughing and having the time of their lives with giant smiles plastered on their faces. They disappear from view and you stand watching the space from where they left, under a chocolate tree with gummy bananas hanging off of them.

Shooting through your body, a zinging pain shoots through your heart feeling like the zap of a thousand volts of electricity that trickles down to your toes and lights its way back up your spine again.

You freeze watching the pair disappear behind a licorice willow tree. With a tired gulp and a teary blink in your eye, you have to face reality. Truth hurts, as some would say: you are incredibly lonely.

“Miss,” just then, the shrill voice of the stout lady behind you echoes from where you are standing and you nearly jump right out of your skin you are frightened by the sneaky tour guide. You all but tense up, breathing hitching as your sockets expand, fearing for the worst. “Miss, a word?” Your nerves were on fire as the soda stream pops and fizzles next to you, filling your ears with the carbonated crackling, as well as all the blood that rushes to your ears. Adrenaline running through your veins, like hot-white lightening sparking up and down from head to toe.

Shit! You think turning to face the orange lady with a sheepish smile. I’ve been caught!

“Y-Yes?” You mumble as she smiles on at you turning to face her fully.

“Who can take a sunrise?” She starts to sing an eerie tune and your stomach pits. “Sprinkle it with dew?” Your eyes are the size of the moon as you watch her bring a bag out of her pocket as she continues to smile that weird, twisted smile at you. “Cover it in chocolate and a miracle or two?” Your heart is pounding out of its chest staring at this round orange woman who reaches into her silkened purple bag, pulling up a handful of what looks like sparkling glitter. “The candy man can.” Her mouth continues to stretch across her face, as she makes invisible worms and spiders crawl along your skin that’s turned to ice. She lifts her hand and blows the dusty glitter into your eyes, as you try to recoil from the crazy action the tour guide throws your way.

Literally.

“Hey!” You yell, opening your eyes to find the world covered in glistening lights, the garden shiny and bright for some strange reason. “What the heck?!”

“Because he mixes it with love,” she ignores you and continues chanting her odd song to you. Your eyelids feel heavy, your body suddenly sluggish, “and chocolate,” you can barely stand on your own two feet as you feel yourself slumping forward and backward. You feel like you are stuck in a murky pit of blackness, and will never be able to escape from the throes of this evil she’s thrown at you. Unable to form a coherent thought, sleep seeps into your mind as you start to succumb to the feeling. Darkness creeps around your vision as you start to fall. Two pairs of hands keep your body up as you hear the orange lady say a few final words. “And makes the world taste good.”

When you come to your senses, you have a sneaking suspicion that you aren’t in the garden anymore. Your eyes are clouded with that weird dust that the weird-ass tour guide blew in your face. There’s more shining, glittering lights floating above you and you realize all the spotlights are all pointed at you. You try to blink the dust away but every move you make makes your body ache for some reason. Why were you in pain? Did you fall? No, you could have sworn there were two people holding you up, carrying you, while you heard… singing, the whole time…

So weird.

Oh crap, speaking of that green-haired tour guide… You gasp a little, foggy brain finally waking up fully, and you nearly grasp. You finally understand. You were caught! You broke the rules though and you deserve to be reprimanded and rightfully so. But, the question still stands.

With a groan and a small shift of your head, you try to grab your throbbing head, but it was sadly in vain.

You blink rapidly. No. This had to be a bad dream right? You are not strapped to a metal object, right? No. Your hands around bound and placed above you? No. You try to kick your legs, only to find your ankles confined into shackles connect to the cool metal item. Loud noises of your struggle erupt from your body, echoing throughout the small, sterile room. Metal clanging around itself was the worst thing you think you’ve ever heard.

There’s… no way… right?

Your eyes expand, practically falling out of your head as your empty stomach flips over on itself. Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, throat running dry. You let out a blood-curdling scream upon realizing that you are tied to a flat, stainless steel table in the middle of a brightly lit, sterile-looking room. You hear the faint melody that evil woman was humming in the distance and you want to throw up you feel physically sick.

This was something out of a terrible bad trip, a nightmare, a horror movie. Is this a scene from a sci-fi film? Your eyes are shaking in their sockets, unable to focus on anything.

Sure, you broke the rules. Sure, you should be punished for it or be fined a sum of money. But, wasn’t this a little extreme? What were they going to do? Torture you? Was the policy for breaking the rules to probe you? With a hard swallow, you honestly hope that’s a solid no.

“Hi there, little crumb.” Comes the awful, nails on a chalkboard, screeching sound of the stout tour guide flutters in somewhere above you. No! You plead to no one in your head. No please don’t kill me! I haven’t even eaten anything from the garden yet!

Your heart is beating, drumming, pounding at the shackles of your sternum to bust free from your chest. Her sweaty, orange meaty fingers come out of nowhere to twist your face toward her. A twisted smirk forms on her scaly lips, her white eyebrows rising to her wide forehead to reveal her pinked gums and dilated eyes beaming, honing in on you. Her yellow, laser-like eyes lock together with yours, which enlarge in fear.

“You think you are special, huh?” She laughs, throwing her head back and maniacally cackling. “You think just because the young master has chosen you of all people to be his new taste-tester you think you are something else?”

“We are going to have so much fun,” she lifts a pumpkin carving knife up to your neck, “together.” She hisses, leaning in, and you nearly taste the bile, the vomit rising in your esophagus while you can’t form a single clear thought as you watch her press the shiny blade to your throat further. Your breathing hitches as she sneers, leaning in closer to practically spit on you. “I’ve loved him for years, since he had dreams to build the garden and you think that YOU,” you wince when you feel the stinging slice of the blade a trickle of blood runs down from your skin and onto the blade. “YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST TAKE HIM FROM ME?”

You are going to die. You are going to die. You are going to be murdered in cold blood by this woman who knows nothing about you. She’s going to kill you and probably play jump-rope in your intestines.

“Hello, little lady.” A cheerful voice filters in from behind the orange lady, snapping you out of your swirling, disintegrating thoughts of your impending peril and doom. “And goodbye Fritz.”

Before the round woman could even think to turn around, your vision, that was once white and sterile, is painted in bright sticky red.

Blood to be exact.

It drips from the giant blue lollipop-shaped into a knife protruding from the orange chest of the orange tour guide. Red particles splatter upon your body, painting you in the warm, maroon color of her life force that someone is robbing from her. Her eyes roll back into her skull, removing the carving knife from your throat as she spits a lump of clotted blood out of her dry, cracked lips.

Your lips part in shock, eyes continuing to stay as wide as dinner plates as you watch the lady before you crumple in on herself and slump to the ground in a heap of orange, red, and green.

A man in silkened purple suit, with a shit-eating grin curving his lips and whose white gloves were speckled and smeared pink from the blood of his staff, was clapping enthusiastically. The sound fills the once sterile room, the noise jarring and ear-splitting as you recoil slightly every time his covered palm connects to the other.

Why is he clapping? He beams as he steps over her dead, lifeless body as yours tenses up. And who the fuck is he?

You remember where you are and why you were here in the first place and you nearly jump out of your skin.

He’s… oh my God...

The young CEO of the Hope World Factory: Jung Hoseok.

He is handsome, there’s no doubt about that. His chestnut-colored hair is barely visible due to the matching violet top hat that covers his head. Amber eyes that sparkle with mischief under the bright spotlight of the medical looking room. You can’t help but drink him in as he starts to loom over you. His slender nose sculpts into a soft-looking smirk, that's curved into a tender smile, shines gently down around you laid out on the cold metal bed. His grin really is magnetic because you are completely captivated by this man who looms lower and lower over you, until you can smell the sweet aroma wafting in around him.

Enthralled, enchanted, mesmerized… This man has a spell over you and you can't look away.

But you have to ask, “Are you going to kill me?”

He blinks at you in disbelief, smile falling only for a moment before he starts scream-laughing.

“What?” He chuckles as he clutches his sides, cackling himself into stitches. “Oh, no no no, little crumb!” His nostrils flare, honey-colored eyes dilating. “You know who I am, yes? You’ve put two and two together?”

You nod, with a weak ‘yes’ leaving your mouth.

“Then you know I’m the infamous candy man, Jung Hoseok.” He sneers, slamming his stained bloody gloves on either side of you on the metal table. “I’m solely going to play with you, little crumb.”

A gasp leaves your lips as you register his words in your head.

You struggle in the shackles, trying to retreat away from the man sneering down at you with mirth. He cocks his head to the side, the bright light being blocked from the man practically climbing on top of you. “Do you know what my main ingredient is here at the Hope World Factory?” His voice drops an octave and his playful eyes cloud over with something dark.

You swivel your head back and forth in a no.

Hoseok slams his hand down next to your head, nabbing your attention in full force. “Speak when spoken to, pet.”

“N-No.” You whisper, a tear leaves one of your eyes, sliding out of your socket, dripping onto the cold table.

“Very good.” He caresses your face with the back of his pinkened-color glove. With a menacing and misplaced smirk, Hoseok dips down to your neck where the tour guide shallowly cut you. You whimper with trembling lips, closing your eyes moving your face away from him, which only reveals the pulse point of your neck to him more. “Oh, very good.” You hear him inhale before the warm flat of his tongue laps the trickle of blood that streams out from your flesh.

Did he just… drink your blood?

Hoseok stands then, lips swollen and colored with your blood, grinning like a wild, maniac above you. “Oh, you’ll do just nicely.”

“F-for-r wh-what?” You shake, tied to the table you are straining, desperate to get out of.

He raises his hands above you, eyes dark with no sparkle left in them. “I drained my last taste tester, broke her, some would say. But, oh you,” he cups your face leaning in to grin at you with his pearly whites coated in your blood, “you just need to lay here and look pretty while your blood is our secret ingredient for all things sweet in the Hope World Factory.” He shrieks, laughing like an insane person as he cups your face in his sticky palms. “Isn’t that great?”

Your heart breaks as you silently beg for a quick and easy death like the lady on the ground. This was not what you had in mind for your Valentine's Day, as well as the rest of your life.

“You can’t keep me here.” You whisper, but it sounds like you are begging him more at this point than anything.

He ignores you and starts humming that dreadfully eerie song from earlier as he leans back over to trap your wounds in between his lips again. “The candy man can.” He hums into your skin, his tongue swirling all over your poor neck. “Because he mixes it with love and makes the world taste good.”

———

#candy man #yandere society #yandere #my bloody valentine #tw: yandere #tw: cannibalism #tw: gore #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: obsession #tw: mentions of death #tw: restraints #tw: knives

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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago

Text

So I’m writing a short story in my Changelings ‘verse for a galaxy brain commission that was simply “Boyd gets a boyfriend.” Nothing wrong there. But it does mean I feel like I finally gotta nail down the full intricacies of Boyd’s magic, which is unnecessarily....extra, due to the existence of the Curse of the Specialist Snowflake that afflicts me.

Like, I couldn’t just give him one physical change and one magic like most other Changelings, nooooooo, he’s gotta be the Zodiac Kid and have twelve completely different changes and magics, one for each sign and he changes throughout the year in accordance to the changing of the signs. Why’d I do it that way? Cuz I gotta, obviously. Hahahaha, shut up, me.

I mean, there was a point to it originally, like, his sister Alicia’s Change and magic is that she’s surrounded by ghostly versions of a bunch of her alternate universe selves at any given moment, and she can communicate with them and call upon their skills and is sometimes called Sibyl around town, so like, the common thread/theme of her and Boyd’s magic is like, an infinity of self, but also, by “there was a point to it originally” I also just mean I couldn’t settle on and pick what I wanted Boyd’s magic to be so I was like here’s a fun thing I could do, make up a reason for him to have even MORE options.

.....I feel like, potentially, this self-created problem I’m having could have been avoided somehow, but gosh, fuck if I can see how.

So most of Boyd’s magic is hammered down....

In his Sagittarius phase, he’s physically a centaur whose lower half looks like a night sky studded through with starfields and moving constellations, and his magic from November 23rd to December 21st is uncanny intuition, a kind of off-the-top-of-his-head divination. He just instinctively knows the answers to questions when he’s in his Sagittarius phase, the more specific the question the more accurate his answer. He doesn’t have context, he doesn’t KNOW how he knows the things that he knows, he just knows them.

You ask him if you’ll meet someone who could very plausibly be the love of your life within the next week, and if he says yes, its absolutely, one hundred percent true and accurate.....but if you ask him then how can I find them, he might say well first thing you gotta do is get out of my face and stop bugging me, and then walk down the street and turn left.....and that too, would be absolutely true and accurately point you in the direction that answers your question but like, that’s all he’s got and you’re missing a few steps at that point. So. Its not an exact science or anything.

There’s definitely tricks to maximizing the intel you get out of him when he feels like being hit up for intel and doesn’t just string you along to be a total troll. Which he is. Hence why he also spends most of December filling in all of Alicia’s large stockpile of crosswords and sudokus, as he just instinctively and whimsically knows what to fill in even if he doesn’t actually have a clue WHY the Mesozoic Era is the answer to 49 Down. Alicia maintains this is cheating. He maintains he doesn’t care, and answers 64 across with “Johannesburg.” Fuck if he knows why.

In his Capricorn phase, he sublets his apartment in Bordertown and takes a month lease on a place underwater in Sub Francisco.....as for this period he’s more of a classical merman, but also if a classical merman has goat horns. But like, whose to say they don’t? Have you ever met one? Thought so. His magic during this period is horns of plenty.....he touches something to one of his horns, and comes away holding two of that item. So it basically only works on things that can be hand-held, but other than that it could be food, physical items, medicine, etc.

In his Aquarius phase, he’s physically the same as he was when a normal mainstream human....except that his skin has a faintly translucent quality as if that of water, with faint stars spiraling in distant patterns in the depths of his slightly watery form. He’s not invisible or actually translucent, like you can’t see through him or even see his organs or anything....rather, its more like most of the time he just looks like normal, human Boyd, albeit wearing a lot of glitter for some reason....but then he turns and catches the light just so, and for a moment you can see how the light is shining THROUGH him similar to the way it shines through the surface of a body of water. His magic in this phase is based on Ganymede, the cup-bearer of the gods.....water he touches becomes imbued with healing properties.

Like, he unscrews an ordinary bottle of Evian and reaches in with the tip of his finger, and whammo, you’ve got a healing potion whose magic will last until the last of the water is gone, even if its not used until after his Aquarius phase. Once he’s imbued a source of water with his magic, its a healing potion from then on out, which makes his shop a useful place to find healing magic year-round.....or at least until he runs out. You come into his shop even in late July, if he’s still got some healing potions lying around they’re as good as ever....but if he’s already out of stock, you’re out of luck until next year’s Aquarius phase rolls around, and you gotta go look elsewhere on Mercy Row for a healer in the meanwhile.

In his Pisces phase, he goes back to his Sub Francisco apartment as his physical Change here is that of a centaur-triton....kinda the classic ithyocentaur, but also he’s got kinda webbed-like wings spanning from his back.....its a whole thing. But a good look. His magic in this phase is ‘the perfect pair’....he cups his hands and forms a magical, elemental construct in the shape of a koi fish that’ll swim off in the direction of the perfect complement to something or someone. Like a personal, magical compass guiding him or whomever he makes one for to like, the magnetic north that exists somewhere as the perfect counterpart to an already present south pole. Whatever, this makes no sense and is super confusing, I get that. But it makes perfect sense and is not confusing in my head. Still just working on translating from point Head to point Paper without the concept getting lost in the translation.

In his Aries phase, he’s his ‘normal’ mainstream-appearing base form....but also he’s got golden wings and ram horns. And his magic is that he breathes fire. But its magic fire, and it doesn’t burn things it touches, it turns them to gold. Its a whole Golden Fleece thing mixed with a King Midas thing.

In his Taurus phase.....idk yet. I mean, bull horns seems a pretty obvious go-to motif, but haven’t decided for his magic yet. Mostly because @sunwukxng is a Taurus and he takes things like this juuuuuuuust personal enough that I know if I don’t come up with something good here he’ll decide its a mortal insult towards all Tauri and thus him as well, and he’ll declare a blood feud against me that shall last five hundred years. And he’s already got like, six of those in progress, so....trying to avoid racking up anymore.

In his Gemini phase, he splits into two selves, his physical self and astral self, so he’s basically followed everywhere by both his shadow and a spirit version of himself he can astral project elsewhere. And when his astral self goes through something, kinda like how there’s that idea that when a ghost passes through someone they feel a chill or as if they almost left their body for a second.....his astral self can kinda like....yoink other peoples’ astral selves out of their physical forms temporarily. Yoink is of course the highly technical, scientific term for the phenomenon. Obviously.

In his Cancer phase.....idk yet. Look, its hard to be classy and deep concept-y about crabs, okay? I’m sorry Cancers, but even in the original myths about the constellation the gods were like yeah, this crab constellation was a mistake, we just felt bad about Artemis kicking that one all the way up into the heavens after it pinched Orion, the only himbo she ever almost made a boytoy out of. A lot of other Zodiacs featured animals that had the common perception of being viewed as pushing the sun across the sky, so there’s maybe something there in that direction....idk yet.

In his Leo phase, Boyd mostly appears as his ‘normal’ base mainstream-human looking self....except he’s big in a way that is not exactly Giant Big (and there are a good couple dozen giant-sized Changelings living in Bordertown, so like, he isn’t officially anywhere near that) but he is possessed of a height and size that are nevertheless best described as Ridiculous. Like he’s bigger than the Strange Angel, but not as big as Teddy the Sun-snake. That means nothing to anyone but me. Whatever. Moving on. Anyway, in his Leo phase he also has a fiery red mane kinda....that’s threaded through with silver stars in the Leo constellation shape. His magic in this phase is his ‘roar of command’....basically, he can imbue anything he says with the force of his will, and thus like.....make inanimate objects do what he tells them. He’s like “Open sesame” and a locked door is like you got it, boss.

In his Virgo phase.....I am not entirely sure what he looks like yet. I’m pretty sure its mostly his mainstream-looking ‘base self’ but like.....with an unnatural charisma, but also something a little less generic than that. Needs a specific hook still, beyond just “I’m ridick pretty.” Like, he’s Sinqua Walls. He’s always ridick pretty. Its a thing. But his magic in this phase is like.....an aura of inspiration. He just sorta puts out a vibe that inspires people around him in various ways that are unique to the individual.

He’s also way shorter than he used to be even before his Change hit, or like, shorter than he is in any of his other phases. Like, we’re talking five and a half feet max. Is there any reason for this whatsoever beyond me being amused at the juxtaposition of him going from his Biggest and Most Ridiculous Phase immediately to his Smallest and Most Ridiculous Phase? No. No there is not. Fear the deep profundity of my creative process, for it is deep and it tis profound.

In his Libra phase....I’m not sure yet what his physical change is, but I do know his skin has a scaled texture, and I know those aren’t the scales normally associated with Libra but there’s a point to it, its just......missing some ingredients still to totally make sense. But he also tends to wear a blindfold a lot of the time during his Libra phase because I know his magic here has to do with viewing things in terms of overlapping possibilities and potentialities, like, he looks at things and sees not just the way they ARE but also a whole bunch of different ways they COULD be, and his magic enables him to kinda tweak things from the way they are more towards one of those other possibilities, in a sense that’s all about ‘balancing’ things.

However, the sensory stimuli of all those potentialities 24/7 is honestly overwhelming and gives him serious migraines, so he mostly tries to rest his eyes behind some kind of blindfold most of the time and just take it off to focus on specific things in order to utilize his magic, and only a little at a time. This is probably the most technically ‘powerful’ of his magics in terms of both versatility and scope, but it takes a toll and he really tries to pace himself during his Libra phase or it just gets to be too much, really fast.

And then lastly, in his Scorpio phase, he’s got a whole scorpion tail and barbed stingers along the outsides of his arms.....but rather than lean into the whole ‘eww Scorpios are duplicitous and manipulative’ and also ‘eww scorpions,’ his magic here calls back to how scorpions are actually protective guardians in a lot of mythologies and folklore, and there’s also plenty of Zodiac lore about the idea of the Scorpio sign being all about uncovering truths at any cost, etc. So his magic here is another ‘liquid/mutable’ type and takes the form of venom from his stingers that’s almost like drops of amber.....and that have various properties aimed at uncovering truths and exposing lies and falsehoods. Like, elixirs made during his Scorpio phase are another highly sought ware at his shop, because depending on the venom concentration he places in each, they have different properties. Like, he’s got vials where just a drop placed in your drink or on your food will reveal if its been drugged or poisoned, or vials of elixirs that basically act as magical truth serum.....and then other vials where like, you splash a little of it on something you suspect to be an illusion or a magical disguise of some kind, and it’ll dispel the false magic and reveal what’s truly there.

“What happens if like, I splash it in the face of someone I think is wearing an illusion disguise and it turns out they’re not and that’s really just what they look like?” A customer asks.

Boyd shrugs. “Then they’ll just be wet. And probably a little pissed, I imagine. That’ll be $49.95 please.”

“I thought you said it was $29.95!”

“That was before the Asked Stupid Questions tax was applied,” Boyd smiles placidly. “Will that be cash or credit?”

Okay. So. Typing that all out cleared up some of that for me but not quite as much as I was hoping as Cancer and Taurus apparently still persist in Vexing me.

Hmmmm.

#changelings 'verse #cast of characters

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emeraldtawny · 5 years ago

Text

My Ikemen Vampire OCs

Been a while since I’ve done anything with OCs and I’m not sure if I’ll be using these boyos in fics or the like. I just wanted to add my own suitors based on some historical figures that caught my attention and thought would be cool to bring back as sexy vampires uwu~

Picrew used can be found here.

Marco Polo

Thomas Jefferson

Sigmund Freud

~Details under the cut~

Marco Polo

The Wide-Eyed Explorer

Adventurous x Oblivious

“Life's all about finding something out there in this great wide world that hasn't been discovered yet. How about it, Signorina? Want to take the risk with me?”

An explorer renowned for his treks from Europe to Asia, his documentation of his travels are known the world over. Yearning for knowledge yet grounded in his ideals, he enjoys exploring this “distant future” of 19th century France and pauses to marvel at every detail and moment he can. He accepted the taste of immortality so he could further explore the world. However, the dynamic, rocky expanse of love is one journey even the great Marco Polo wasn’t prepared for.

Birthday: September 15th

Height: 177cm (5’9”)

Occupation: Merchant

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Exploring, Collecting trinkets (hoarding), Taking notes

Dislikes: Staying indoors

Specialty: Storytelling, Charisma

Weaknesses: Lying

Favourite Food: Pasta

Hated Food: Ginger

Pet: Monkey named Viaggio

Random Tidbits

Wears two dangling coin earrings, as a symbol of the currency he knew before learning of and introducing paper money to Europe.

Responsible for bringing noodles - and consequently, pasta - back to Italy. One of his proudest accomplishments, he says.

Gets incredibly pouty when people doubt his memoirs or if he even made it to China at all.

Is endlessly fascinated by the different culture of this “new world” and will ask endless questions to gain knowledge.

Gets flustered and oddly prideful over how many other important figures of history looked to his experiences to guide them (Of course, he is most proud of the children’s game named after him).

Most of his memoirs were written in prison and by his cellmate. *A/N: hmmm, I wonder who comes back to smite him :3*

Is uncharacteristically frugal and likes to hoard any “unique” treasures he finds (most of them are commonplace items, but rare to Marco).

Favourite Place To Bite: Shoulder. He just gets incredible pleasure sinking his teeth into the flesh of the shoulder, and it works in tandem to muffle the groans that threaten to slip through his lips as he feeds. And if they bite him back on his shoulder, he is gone. His arms will always be snaked around their waist and whether he’s pressed against their back or front, he’s absorbed in his feeding so fully that sometimes he doesn’t know when to pull back until it’s too much.

Associates With:

Leonardo - The pureblood quite enjoys the boundless vibrant energy of his fellow Italian, and is more than happy to show him around the city and listen to the younger man’s detailed recounts of what he’s seen. They fuel each other’s insatiable need for new things to learn.

Dazai - Enjoys teasing him for his cluelessness about the world. The mansion’s residents don’t know whether to intervene, as both seem oblivious to the other’s intentions in their odd conversations.

Sebastian - Usually on the butler’s bad side for the constant clutter of “souvenirs” he always returns with. However, is rewarded with the whimsical story recounting of THE Marco Polo, so it isn’t all bad.

How He Met MC

After MC had attended dinner and was making her way to Comte’s room, she almost gets knocked off her feet as she collides with someone whilst lost in thought. Things fall to the floor and she quickly apologises and kneels down to help pick up the fallen items. As she lifts her head, she’s met with a head of white wispy locks and kind ice-blue eyes staring back at her behind his round spectacles. He takes the things back from her and they both return to their feet. “Grazie Mille, Signorina.” He says through a grin. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you there. You must be new around here.”

“Oh, um--”

(Is he a famous figure of history too? He looks nice enough.)

Her thoughts are cut off as Sebas comes into the hallway and seems ready to scold the young man for bringing in another assortment of useless trinkets. He pouts a little and says that these are unique and a brand new discovery that he must look into for their use. Sebas sighs, notices MC and asks if he has introduced himself to her yet. He blinks and exclaims in realisation before turning back to MC with a sheepish, boyish grin.

“It seems I forgot to introduce myself to you, Signorina. My name is Marco Polo. I’m a merchant and an explorer.”

(M-Marco Polo?!)

After MC learns the truth about the mansion and its residents, she’s on her guard as she walks aimlessly around the mansion, avoiding everyone she can for fear of them biting her. She stops as she passes the archive at the sound of a happy tune being hummed. She peeks in to see Marco cross-legged on the floor with a pile of junk in front of him. Yet the way he’s observing each piece makes her believe every single one is an irreplaceable treasure. He adjusts his glasses and inspects the map in his hands with an inquisitive gaze, his excitement of a new discovery at his fingertips vibrant and infectious.

She’s so lost watching him that she hardly realises that she’s entered the archive, her feet naturally bringing her towards him. He stops humming and turns to meet her curious eyes with a wink.

“Oh! Perfecto! Just the woman I was hoping to see!”

He says it so heartfeltly that she feels her heart leap.

“Would you happen to know what these are? Since you’re from the future, you’d likely have a better idea than me.”

She hesitantly sits down across from him, still unsure yet compelled to help him, the kind, yearning aura surrounding him too strong to resist. [First CG of them looking over the pile of junk. Marco gesturing wide as he imagines the uses of a simple silver spoon and MC staring at him like “...it’s a spoon, not a lightning rod.”]

As she listens to him, she asks him why he finds joy in collecting these everyday items. He blinks at her...before bursting out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I’m serious!”

“Ah, I’m sorry. Really I am. It’s just I never get tired of hearing that question. To me, that question means that there are people out there who have grown accustomed to what’s around them. So much so that something they see every day has lost its beauty to their eyes. I truly believe that everything out there - discovered or not - has a story, a meaning. No matter how mundane it may be, everything has a unique beauty in this world.”

(That’s...such a wonderful outlook on life.)

...

Thomas Jefferson

The Repentant Sinner

Awkward x Earnest

“I cannot see the merits of wanting to get to know me. So, why can’t I stop you from doing so?”

A diplomat and a scholar, the one thing Thomas Jefferson cannot say he is versed in is the art of conversation. Despite this, he isn’t shy. He simply prefers to observe and document what is around him. Intelligent and soft-spoken, he seems to be more driven in his immortal life despite his tremendous accomplishments in his human life. What so greatly motivated him to be reborn as a vampire?

Birthday: April 13th

Height: 190cm (6'2")

Occupation: Diplomat don't mention the P-word

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Writing, Violin

Dislikes: Public speaking

Specialty: Writing documents (in silence)

Weaknesses: Conversation, His reputation

Favourite Food: Vegetables (selective vegetarian)

Hated Food: Liver

Pet: Mockingbird named Quill

Random Tidbits

Can speak 4 languages (English, Latin, French and Italian) and can communicate through writing in a further two languages (Greek and Spanish).

Wears multiple rings and a wrist cuff on his right hand, as he had dislocated his wrist in his human life yet the bones failed to set right when healing. The discomfort continues as a vampire, though less painful.

His voice is quiet, mellow and of a tenor pitch. He can barely string more than three sentences together unless speaking in private and about a topic he is knowledgeable in.

Developed mild insomnia since becoming a vampire. Coupled with his periodic headaches, some days he will be completely inconsolable.

Enjoys writing and listening to his mockingbird sing in the comfort of his room.

Completely freezes and nearly breaks down when reminded of the dark underbelly of his legacy.

Has no less than four feather quills on his person wherever he goes.

Favourite Place To Bite: Fingers. Feeding on a body part with a smaller surface area helps him pace himself and prevent more harm than necessary. But he truly enjoys piercing his fangs into the tip of the index and middle fingers, giving a cursory suck before withdrawing and taking the fingers into his mouth to suck them that way; he doesn’t wish to harm anyone with his bites if he can help it. Of course, sometimes he can’t help it when he’s lost in bloodlust.

Associates With:

Isaac - Enjoys his quiet companionship. They usually sit in the archive together, working on their different projects in complete silence.

Napoleon - Occasionally goes to the Frenchman requesting a feather from his eagle to make into a new quill. Napoleon agrees under the condition he helps him teach the schoolchildren, something he begrudgingly agrees to.

How He Met MC

The first time she meets Thomas is at her welcoming dinner. She baulks slightly at the height of him and the broad set of his shoulders being accentuated by his perfectly fitted dress shirt. He meets her gaze and nods politely towards her before taking his seat and idly staring down at and fiddling with his rings. She whispers to Napo if she somehow offended him, but he assures her that that’s just how Thomas is; not the best at striking up a conversation.

When introductions come up, he’s one of the last to speak and definitely the least enthusiastic. He clears his throat softly and makes eye contact with MC, his gaze oddly intense as if forcing himself to meet her eye.

“Thomas Jefferson. Diplomat. A pleasure.”

(Thomas Jefferson. He was important in American history if I remember correctly. Can’t say I know much more than that.)

When Sebas (and Arthur) get it through MC’s head that she’s now in a mansion of vampires, she immediately runs out of the kitchen and just panic runs. She ends up in the foyer and almost collapses with relief because she can finally escape this place. Before she can reach the door, however, she realises there’s someone else right in front of the door, pacing back and forth as if in a trance.

(Oh great. They have someone on guard as well? Even more reason to get out of here!)

She tries to slip by, but the man notices her and stops his pacing to stare at her, saying nothing. MC feels overwhelmed by his gaze and starts to shake. His eyes widen and he goes to reach for her.

“Are you--?”

“Get away from me! Vampire! Monster! Don’t touch me!!”

She swats his hand away and makes a break for the door, but Thomas grabs her around the waist, pinning her arms down. She thrashes and begins to feel tears pricking her eyes when Sebas emerges. Thomas turns to him and asks him to take the young lady to her room. He immediately releases her from his hold and whispers a soft “I apologise for scaring you.” before walking back to his room with long strides.

Back in her room, she reflects on what happened and realises that his grip on her wasn’t tight enough to harm her and instead, he was likely as panicked as she was.

(Even if he is a vampire, it was clear he was trying to protect me. And I called him a monster…)

The next day, she asks Sebas to show her where Thomas’ room is so she can apologise to him. Sebas says to try the archive instead and shows her the way. She knocks on the door and peeks inside.

Sitting at a desk and brandishing a feather quill, Thomas writes like his life depends on it, his eyes - while still heavy and tired with dark circles - seem focused with an intensity that leaves MC dumbfounded. [First CG of him deep in his scribing, unaware of the pretty lady who watches him with her attention rapt.]

(He writes as if he’s possessed. I feel like if I interrupted him now, I’d be ruining the very nature of his being.)

She waits until he lets out a soft sigh and sets down his quill. When he finally notices her presence, he blinks, a deer in the headlights. His mouth opens and closes, but no words come out.

“Um...can I help you?”

...

Sigmund Freud

The Cold Elitist

Analytical x Insatiable

“Such honest eyes. Yet such boring simplicity in your actions and thoughts.”

An Austrian neurologist whose work helped to shape modern psychology. His work with brains and how they shape our conscious and unconscious mind - his book The Interpretation of Dreams using his own brain as the study - made him observant and insightful; in a holier-than-thou way in most cases. He is private and distancing, yet fiercely loyal to those he deems worthy enough to be close to him. His own findings concluded that personality and unconscious thoughts cannot be so easily swayed. Until he meets you...

Birthday: May 6th

Height: 180cm (5’10”)

Occupation: Neurologist (despises the term psychologist being attributed to him)

Vampire Type: Lesser Vampire

Hobbies: Smoking cigars, People watching, Reading

Dislikes: Being referred to by his first name (Call him Freud or you’ll get one hell of a death stare)

Specialty: Psychoanalysis, Picking apart people’s thoughts

Weaknesses: Accepting defeat or wrongdoing, Smiling through his eyes

Favourite Food: Artichoke

Hated Food: Anything American

Pet: Frog named Ego

Random Tidbits

He has a pet frog because of his early work as a medical student, where he studied frog brains to determine the difference between vertebrate and invertebrate brains. And named his pet after one of the terms he coined of the human psyche, representing the balance of our desires and morality.

Used to smoke cigars heavily, so much so that he developed mouth cancer which led to his eventual human death. Picked the habit back up again after being revived as a vampire.

Had a therapy dog when he was human. Sneaks pets to Vic and King whenever he can.

Was quoted saying “The goal of all life is death.”, yet accepted the offer to be granted eternal life (he chuckles bitterly at himself over this fact).

Was a firm Shakespeare sceptic and remains so into his vampire life. Any conversation he has with Shakespeare usually ends with him bad-mouthing him in German and proclaiming that the Earl of Oxford was the true writer of his plays.

Continues to write books about his discoveries, yet keeps them unpublished.

Is joked as being sex-obsessed (by Arthur of all people), but stands by his claims that sexual wishes and desires play into how a person’s mentality is shaped.

Favourite Place To Bite: Stomach. The way the muscles flex and spasm around his fangs is exquisite in every meaning of the word. He enjoys slowly sliding the blouse up, letting his hands trail slowly to feel the goosebumps that prickle on the skin, before biting right on the curve of the waist.

Associates With:

Comte - The one man who may call him by his first name. Feels indebted to him for another chance at life.

Mozart - Short yet calm conversations between the two Austrians happen every so often; about what, who can say?

Arthur - Pesters Freud for psychoanalytical techniques he can incorporate into his Holmes novels. Gives him the bare minimum to leave him alone. Absolutely loathes the nickname the Brit gives him (“Siggy”).

How He Met MC

When MC first encounters him, Freud is at the dining table with Mozart, Theo, Vincent and Isaac. As soon as he hears the commotion and she enters for dinner, he abruptly stands and leaves without a word, only sparing a cold stare that she feels in the pit of her stomach.

Her first true encounter with him is after Sebas tries to tell her that her housemates are vampires and she runs into him in the hallway. She notes that his eyes of metal run just as cold as the first time she met his gaze, but she still tries to greet him (Comte told her about him briefly at dinner, saying his name is Sigmund). When she addresses him as such, his lips twitch in distaste and harshly tells her not to call him that.

Being MC, she bites back a little, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

”For a meek little thing, you certainly try to bark, don’t you?”

“Hey, I don’t need another person in this mansion referring to me as a dog!”

“Hm. Very well then, Rotznase.”

(Did....did he just call me a brat?!) *A/N: no, MC. He called you a snot-nosed brat*

She goes to bite back again, but something in his eyes stops her dead. Like they can see into her soul, see the exact way her brain ticks. He exudes a harsh aura that makes her want to run, but the power of his eyes on her has her paralysed, like a predator staring down its defenceless prey. He scoffs at her before asking if she knows what he is. When she doesn’t respond, he sighs in annoyance before grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the wall, hard. [First CG of this kabedon-strangling hybrid. 2/10, not sexy and probably hurts too much.]

”You’re a foolish little girl. And unfortunate in your luck. If you had crossed paths with any of the other beasts in these halls, you may have gotten away with nothing more than nightmares.”

His hand on her throat tightens, constricting her windpipe and cutting off her air supply, the petrified horror in her eyes only increasing as he bares his fangs to her.

”I am not a lenient man, I never have been. And this is no dream. You’re just an unlucky human. No offence intended.”

Just as his hand tightens further and he leans over her, Arthur of all people is the one to save her. He grabs Freud’s collar and yanks him back, barking at him not to scare the bird. Freud only gives an annoyed huff before strolling away as if he never had any part in it. MC loses strength in her knees and passes out from fear, and Arthur brings her to her room before heading to Comte to tell him what occurred.

The following day, Comte invites MC out to the garden for a chat. He confirms that the residents are all men of history brought back from death as vampires, and he apologises for Freud’s less than savoury approach at drilling the message in.

”Listen well, ma Cherie. The men in this mansion may be vampires, but they all show restraint. Sigmund, however, is an unusual case. He is prone to frenzies, where he’s so consumed with bloodlust that he cannot control himself. For your own safety, I would suggest having as little contact with him as possible.”

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #original characters #ikevam marco #ikevam thomas #ikevam freud #I'll make tags for them just in case I decide to do anything more with these guys #I've gotten this far so might as well right? bgedngf #lowkey-highkey thinking of commissioning someone to draw them #I've got outfits in mind for them...tho tbh this picrew had clothes quite similar to what I wanted #we'll see..anyway enjoy my pride and joy vamp bois ^w^

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thebladeblaster · 4 years ago

Text

Pokémon: the Dark Circuit (aka Vanguard Descends season 2)

Chapter 5 Battle At Sea

Aichi’s current team

Level 79 Wingal (Lycanroc (dusk)) rock

Moves:

Stealth rock

Crunch

Stone edge

Play rough

Level 77 Llew (Golisopod) water/bug

Moves:

Sucker punch

Blizzard

Liquidation

First impression

Level 78 Gancelot (Lucario) fighting/steel

Moves:

Focus blast

Stone edge

Meteor mash

Dragon pulse

Level 85 Soul Saver (Haxorus) dragon

Moves:

Outrage

Iron tail

Dragon dance

Scale shot

Level 100 Alfred (Aegislash) ghost/steel

Moves:

Sacred sword

King’s shield

Iron head

Shadow Claw

After getting out of the bath, they went to the dining room. Like most other rooms in the castle it was unnecessarily large. Aichi didn’t linger on that too long after the food was set on the table. He felt his mouth water as his stomach growled again. He tried to remember his table manners despite his intense hunger. Though, just shoveling food into his mouth was extremely tempting. He resisted the urge and ate at a reasonable pace. Llew however instantly dug in. Wingal sniffed the food cautiously before deciding it was safe and started eating. Gancelot ate more cleanly than the other two, but in their defense they can’t hold silverware anyway. Soul Saver mimicked his table manners similarly to how she did in Alfred’s castle. Speaking of Alfred…

Aichi looked over to where Alfred was; he seemed to have wandered off. He felt a bit worried especially with Ahmes already missing.

“Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario.(Don’t worry about Alfred, he told me he’s just checking up on something.)”, Gancelot told him.

“What would that be?”, Aichi thought.

With Alfred…

“Oh is that you Aichi boy?”, Pegasus asked as the door opened.

“No, it’s Alfred Pendragon. The once and future king of Galar.”, Alfred replied, revealing himself.

“Ah, it talks?!”, Pegasus replied with mock surprise.

“Why are you doing this?”, Alfred asked.

“Is it hard to believe I’m just helping out Aichi boy from the goodness of my heart?”, Pegasus replied.

“I know you already know about him. You knew who were before we ever entered the castle.”, Alfred replied.

“What makes you say that?”, Pegasus asked.

“You didn’t react when Aichi talked to us. I noticed your men giving him weird looks, but you didn’t look weirded out or surprised at all. Also, it’s your tone. I can tell you know more than your letting on.”, Alfred explained.

“Ah, I see you are rather clever Alfred. Yes, I know very well who Aichi boy is. It’s hard not to know when he was able to defeat one of Team Asteroid’s Psyqualia users. I don’t want anything bad if you’re thinking about that. I simply don’t like Team Asteroid. They have spoiled the fun of the whole world. Back in the olden days people used to do fun things like make cartoons that aren’t war propaganda. Cartoons just for the sake of entertainment they were the best. Now, it’s all about the war blah blah and convincing young chaps to risk their lives for their region. Anyway, I want things to go back to a more whimsical and fun time. Giving Aichi boy medical attention, a bath, and food is a small price to pay for that.”, Pegasus explained.

“I see...you don’t seem to be lying. Sorry about being so paranoid, but with the nature of what Aichi is. A lot of people with not so good intentions try to take advantage of him.”, Alfred replied.

“Even his own father only thinks about him as a tool for world domination.”, Alfred thought.

“I don’t blame you, Alfred. It’s just smart for you to be cautious. You all are so protective of him, he definitely seems like he needs it.”, Pegasus replied.

Alfred nodded, that’s why he had originally joined Aichi in the place. He’s young, naive, and has lots of power. A very bad combination. And all the malicious programming placed in his brain certainly didn’t help. Iit messed up his ability to think clearly and made him act very unlike himself when it took hold of him. He seemed to be grappling with it again. He needs positive guidance in his life. So, he wouldn’t end up going down a dark path not unlike his father and even himself at one point. He saw him personally almost like a son. He had gotten rather attached to Aichi.

“Right, goodbye Pegasus. I believe Aichi still intends to leave after dinner to find our lost party member.”, Alfred said, with a light bow before seeing himself out.

With Aichi…

Every few minutes Aichi paused his eating to look over for Alfred. The poor boy was so worried about him. He was very relieved when he saw Alfred float back in. It made him able to relax a bit and focus on filling his stomach. He’s going to need all the energy he can get to find Ahmes. Eventually, they finished and Aichi was given a new bag along with potions, revives, and food.

“Thank you very much, Pegasus. For everything, I don’t really have anything to give to repay you. I hope we meet again one day.”, Aichi thanked, with a polite bow.

“It’s nothing Aichi boy. I was glad to help you.”, Pegasus replied.

Then, they all left Pegasus’s castle and were back into the wilderness of Alola. Aichi put his finger to his head trying to sense around for Ahmes. He didn’t feel him at all. Sure, he felt other Gallades but not Ahmes. Aichi frowned hoping he hadn’t gotten too far or...the worst had happened to him. Aichi shook his head, not wanting to even consider the possibility. He was probably just somewhere else in Alola out of his range.

In Sanctuary town…

Naoki looked around Sanctuary town after school, eventually ending up in front of the Sendou household. Word had already gotten around fast that Aichi didn’t go to school today. He felt a bit worried for him and decided to go to his house.

“Maybe he’s just sick and I’m making a big deal out of this.”, Naoki thought.

He hesitatingly walked up to the door and knocked on it. The door slowly creaked open a little eerily which made Naoki raise an eyebrow. He flinched when a scaly finger pointed at him with a watery bullet starting to form. Naoki couldn’t help, but let out a startled gasp.

“Mom, that's Aichi’s friend.”, Naoki froze, recognizing the voice of Aichi’s sister.

The door opened more and he now saw Shizuka with Elaine by her side who was the one pointing at him.

“Man, your guys’ mom totally gives off gang boss vibes.”, Naoki blurted out.

Shizuka’s eyebrow twitched a bit at the ‘gang boss’ comment and Naoki flinched.

“I’m sorry, but Aichi is not here right now.”, Shizuka informed him.

She still felt very ticked off that the evacuation people wouldn’t let her look for her son. Now, he was lost who knows where and possibly in her ex-husband’s hands. She honestly considered just tying her son to her hip at this point. He always finds a way to get himself in danger. She was finding it extremely difficult to contain her motherly worry for him. She wanted to go out and find him, but she had to take care of her daughter too. She was completely stuck and it was frustrating. She remembered back when things were so much simpler. However, she never regretted having kids just the person she had them with.

“Oh...do you know when he’ll get back?”, Naoki asked.

“No.”, Shizuka replied, feeling her heart sink.

“Okay...uh...see ya later Mrs.Sendou and uh...Aichi’s sister.”, Naoki replied, waving goodbye.

“My name is Emi.”, Emi told him.

Emi looked down very worried about her brother as well. Especially after she kept having those weird dreams of what seemed like Shuka’s world. She never wanted to see Aichi be like how he was in those dreams. She just wanted her dorky older brother that she knew back. She didn’t mind having to deal with waking him up as long as he was safe at home. The dreams still felt like some kind of a bizzaro world to her. Though, Aichi was able to do some of the stuff she saw in them. First of all he could obviously always understand Pokémon. Second, he was crazy strong. She wasn’t quite sure if he was as strong as the dream Aichi. Third, he was able to do that weird absolute lock thing against Shuka just like in the dreams. She had this really bad feeling that wherever he was something was wrong with him. She just hoped when he came back he would still be himself.

In Alola…

Aichi brandished Alfred as a blade. He held up Alfred’s shield in defense when a Turtonator breathed fire at him.

“Wingal use stone edge! Llew use Liquidation! Gancelot use focus blast! Soul Saver use scale shot!”, Aichi ordered.

The Turtonator growled in pain as it was bombarded by sharp rocks. However, he wasn’t the only Pokémon attacking them. Those Pokémon are hit by the others attacks. A Bisharp charged at him and he guarded. With a simple foot movement he got behind him and delivered a hard knock on the back of its head with Alfred’s hilt. They continued on like this for a few days walking through Alola and ending up with fights from the not so friendly locals. Aichi grew increasingly worried as he still had no luck finding Ahmes. They ended up setting up camp a few times with rotating who’s on lookout.

Near Alola…

Our heroes and the Quatre Knights soon approached Alola. Little did our heroes know they were slowly being pursued by someone hiding their power. Yami couldn’t put down this bad feeling he had. He continued looking over the boat, but didn’t see anything. He stopped when he picked up Aichi’s aura and was getting closer and his exact position became a lot clearer. The Quatre Knights arrived before our heroes and quickly flew over the islands looking for Aichi. Though with the massive overgrowth it was rather hard. The trees had grown up super high in some parts and plants covered most of the region. They all flinched when in the distance the Akala island volcano suddenly went off. Lava seeped from the volcano quickly overflowing at an unnaturally rapid rate. The Kantonians looked especially panicked at this especially when they saw the shadow of a titanic Pokémon.

“It’s him!”, Yugi said, sweating nervously.

“That jerk must have followed us!”, Jonouchi said.

The others rushed up as they got a better view of the colossal Pokémon. It had red scales and a grey underbelly. It had lots of spikes on it and strange black markings. It had massive claws, a row of sharp teeth and golden eyes.

“You have got to be shitting me. Is that Groudon?!”, Misaki gasped in disbelief.

“He’s huge! He’s not even dynamaxed, yet he’s that big?!”, Kamui commented, his jaw dropped.

They all paled as a massive fiery blast was sent in their direction. They quickly threw out their Pokémon to try and get out of the boat. Kai threw out Overlord and flew on his back. Misaki threw out Guardian and flew on its back. Kamui threw out Kaiser who for some odd reason could surf. (How it could, was beyond me. Even I don’t know. It just works. I’m not joking, you can actually teach Tyranitar surf.) Miwa flew in Dauntless. Kourin flew on Bridgette. Yugi surfed on his Blastoise with Anzu. Joey threw out his own Charizard which was shiny and flew on it with Honda. The others on the boat hastily jumped onto their own Pokémon who could fly or swim.

Kai, Misaki, and Kamui mega evolved their Pokémon. To their surprise Yugi and Joey were able to as well. Joey’s mega Charizard was mega Charizard Y though. They didn’t have much time to dwell on it though and quickly rushed to stop Groudon. Though, they were at a massive disadvantage right now because they couldn’t use all their Pokémon while over open sea.

“Overlord use hurricane!”, Kai ordered.

“Guardian use psychic!”, Misaki ordered.

“Kaiser use surf!”, Kamui ordered.

“Dauntless use giga drain!”, Miwa ordered.

“Bridgette use giga drain!”, Kourin ordered.

“Catapult use hydro cannon!”, Yugi ordered.

“Red eyes use solar beam!”, Joey ordered.

“Punisher use eruption!”, the boy from before ordered on top of Groudon.

The attacks all collided with each other causing the ground to shake.

Meanwhile on Melemele island (Alola)...

Aichi and his Pokémon minus Alfred stumbled as they felt tremors ripple through the ground. They were in a thick forest and the mountain covered their view.

“What’s going on?!”, Aichi questioned.

“I don’t know, maybe one of the volcanoes erupted?”, Alfred replied.

“Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. Lucario. (I sense one did, it’s on one of the other islands though.), Gancelot said.

“Ahh!!! One of them erupted! Where is it?”, Aichi asked.

“Lucario. Lucario. (The one right of us.)”, Gancelot told him.

Aichi turned to the direction of the island.

“Lycanroc! Lycanroc! Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. Lycanroc . Lycanroc. Lycanroc. (Oh no! No you don’t! There’s no way you can save all the Pokémon on that island unless you stopped the lava somehow.)”, Wingal yelled, knowing exactly what Aichi’s thinking.

“Then that’s what I’ll do.”, Aichi replied, they jumped as Aichi seemed gone in an instant and Alfred lunged forward nearly catching Aichi before he seemed to disappear.

“Lycanroc! (That stupid idiot!)”, Wingal yelled.

“Haxorus! Haxorus! Haxorus. (We gotta catch up to momma!)”, Soul Saver yelled, running as fast as possible after Aichi.

They all ran and Alfred floated to catch up with their reckless trainer. Aichi was flying high in the air looking over to the island. He had a light blue aura around him and his eyes had rainbow spirals. However now that he was in the air the Quatre Knights spotted him as he flew over to Akala island.

With the other…

Misaki got in closer with guardian who punched Groudon with icy punches. The others continued to launch their attacks at Groudon in different spots. The boy sat on top of Groudon not very impressed as he could hear Groudon cringe in pain. It shot more fire balls and swiped at them with its claws. Large spikes erupted from the ground which nailed Kaiser and Catapult. Thankfully, it didn’t impale them but it did damage them, cutting them multiple times. Their strong shells protected them from being impaled.

“Kaiser!”, Kamui called out.

“Catapult!”, Yugi called out.

They started sinking as the Pokémon that they were riding on was heavily injured. Their hearts beat loudly against their chest.

“Y-yugi!”, Anzu called out, holding out her hand to Yugi.

Yugi reached out for Anzu as his necklace suddenly glowed with a bright golden light. Kamui threw out Tough Boy and recalled Kaiser.

“Yugi!”, Kamui called out concerned, riding over to him on Tough Boy.

“Yu-gi-oh!”, Kamui had no idea where that noise was coming from, but the light got brighter.

Kamui stumbled a bit surprised when Tough Boy shook a bit. He looked up to see Yugi? No Yami, but he wasn’t transparent and others could see him. He was holding Anzu in his arms sitting on the back of Tough Boy with Kamui. Yugi became Yami? Kamui blinked in shock, completely stunned.

“How the heck did you do that thing where you grew taller?”, Kamui asked.

“We’re at a disadvantage in the sea. We need to get to land and attack there.”, Yami told him, as he pointed to land.

“A-alright man.”, Kamui replied, still trying to process what just happened.

They rode Tough Boy over to the shores of Melemele island because there was no lava. As they reached the shores Aichi who was in the air saw Groudon. He gasped in shock seeing Groudon. He quickly flew over to Akala island too focused on saving the Pokémon to notice the other people flying in the sky especially since they were tiny dots compared to Groudon. He had to stop the volcano somehow. He hoped Groudon didn’t cause it. Aichi flew so fast the others didn’t see him they only felt a sharp wind blow past them.

“Woah, that the heck was that?!”, Joey questioned, desperately holding onto Red Eyes with Honda.

The Quatre Knights pursued Aichi who hovered over the Akala volcano.

“Now...how do I stop it?”, Aichi questioned.

He remembered that blast attack he shot from his finger. Maybe he could just destroy the volcano? Wait...that was probably a horrible idea and would be too destructive.

“Stop...stop...how do I make it stop...wait a minute.”, Aichi pondered, before looking at his pointer finger wondering if what he was thinking of would work on inanimate objects like lava.

“Well...I might as well try. Absolute lock!”, Aichi called out.

He shot at the lava hoping for the best. He squealed when Groudon shot fire at him in annoyance.

“Well if Groudon is the cause then...Absolute lock!”, Aichi said, pointing his finger at Groudon.

The others gasped in shock when Groudon suddenly became stuck in place. Two intersecting white rings with a golden lining and a light blue aura surrounded Groudon. Misaki and Kourin’s eyes widened, realizing who shot the attack at Groudon instantly. Aichi looked relieved when the eruption actually did stop and the lava came to a halt. Kamui was too preoccupied trying to get to land. The boy on top of Groudon’s eyes twitched with annoyance.

“Who dares?!”, the boy questioned angrily, looking around.

The aura the rings gave off was unfamiliar to him. No one he knows did this. The boy growled angrily.

“Kill them. Whoever they are.”, the boy said.

Groudon roared as the red orb was activated. Suddenly Groudon was encased in a red gem. A golden omega symbol flashed on the gem. When it broke out it’s markings had changed and now looked like lava. It’s underbelly was now black and it’s spikes became black. Not to mention it was even bigger than before. The boy touched its head and it was surrounded by his murky gold aura and broke through the absolute lock. Aichi’s jaw dropped, looking stunned that Groudon actually broke out.

“That dumb giant! He broke through my absolute lock!”, Aichi sweated nervously as he felt a anger that wasn’t his boil up inside him.

Aichi twitched trying to keep control of himself.

“Calm down!”, he told himself, hoping that would work.

“You! You don’t understand! My pride is being threatened! I am supposed to be the supreme being! First you let yourself get punched by that stupid armored scientist! Second you let us get thrown around by Celebi! Freaking Celebi! Third, that lower Psyqualia user knocked us out! Then some dumb giant is going to breaks through one of my signature moves!”, 003v replied, his voice full of venom in his mind, which made Aichi jump.

Aichi sweated nervously in complete disbelief not understanding 003v’s complete insanity. He didn’t even realize 003v was keeping score. He thought maybe he was insane too for talking to himself.

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afy2018 · 4 years ago

Text

My First Love Ch. 1

“I mean, they say that after a while you just forget stuff,” Laura shrugged pulling on her flannel pyjamas, “Do you remember everything, or how does it work with being a vampire?”

Carmilla glanced at Laura and slid under the covers. “I guess whatever I’ve forgotten I just can’t think of.”

Laura nodded and climbed in next to her, cuddling into her wife after turning off her bedside lamp.

Time passed by slowly, but Carmilla just couldn’t sleep. Looking at Laura, she decided to think back on her life, wondering how she even got here, alive no longer under her mother’s thumb. She wondered how true Laura’s theory was. Carmilla didn’t know, nor understand why memories had to fade away. She truly didn’t want to forget anything, but maybe somethings were gone. Carmilla slowly sat up and slipped out of bed, walking to Laura’s basket of old tattered journals and took the least used one, a light brown faux leather book with a metal clasp.

She walked to the kitchen, turning on a light and grabbed a cheap pen from a cup and began to write:

“I don’t want to forget anything, so I think I should start to recount my life before it’s too late. Maybe you’re right, Laura, maybe I’ll forget important things and dates, but I’ll find out while pleasing you adorable curiosity.” She began before explaining her memory.

(1697 Versailles, France)

My first memory was of a Christmas party I went to at the Château de Versailles. It was so large. There were people everywhere and food up and down the tables. Servants were dressed in pure white garments like angels. My parents were already talking with other royals. We were representing Austro-Holy Roman Empire. I felt lost in the hall of mirrors. The crystal chandeliers, that hanged low in the room, glittered and sparkled across the ground as the sun set in the windows and reflected in the tall mirrors painting orange, pink, and red as their temporary wallpaper. I walked around the room, taking time to look at all of the golden statues and mural on the ceiling.

Distracted, I ran into someone.

“I am sorry.” I fervently apologized.

I came face to face with this beautiful woman with grey-blue eyes. She had a strong and fierce look in her eyes. Her hair was pulled tight and had velvet yellow and purple flowers tucked in the back to match the golden and royal purple dress she was wearing. Though even with her impenetrable aura, she looked like she was holding something back.

“There is no reason to look so afraid, madam.” She smiled. “I take no offence.” She took a sip from her glass and glanced around the room. “This must be your first party.”

“It is. Well, my first one outside of Austria.”

“Oh, so you are a representative from the Holy Roman Empire?”

“One of them, my parents are somewhere else.”

“So you are a lost puppy?”

I blushed a deep scarlet and shrugged. “I guess so.”

“My name is Anne Princess of Denmark.”

“Mircalla Gräfin Karnstein of Styria.”

“Now you have met your first friend.”

“I guess I do.”

“I can introduce you to others, play a bit of politics while we are here right?”

“I do not think I should. My parents should be in control of that.”

“Being royal is all about politics.”

“I know, but I still need to learn more.”

“Alright, then I shall help you.” She smiled, walking to a wall. I followed her to and rested against one of the mirror's frames. She pointed to a group of people near the table. “See the royal with brown hair in the red? He is a Duke of Beja from Portugal talking with a Lord of Biscay from Spain. Over by the drinks is almost all of the French Court cornering a Boyar from Russia. Oh my, watch, a Prince from Latvia is making his way to them.”

“How do you think this will...?” I began forgetting the English word.

“Work out? I do not know. We will have to watch.”

“What is their history?”

“Well being on opposite sides of Europe, the biggest problem they have with one another is trading rights, but Latvia and Russia, well, that is something else.”

“Do you think they will make an argument?”

“No, but what happens after tonight is something else.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, why create gossip in front of everyone and seem… juvenile, when one could simply have a professional fight behind closed doors?”

“You are very wise in royal conduct.”

“Thank you. I have had to be savvy in what I do and say for years now.”

“You speak perfect English, yet you are the Princess of Denmark?”

“I am from England, but married to Prince George of Denmark.” She explained, turning to me with a polite smile, “Your English, it is good but more practice and it will be perfect.”

“Conversational is difficult for me.”

She finished her drink and gave me a quick wink. “If you want some lessons, I could give you a few quick lessons.”

My words were caught in my throat, and I found my head nodding even though I didn’t tell it to do so. She just smiled and took my arm, walking briskly out of the room, taking the wall and slipping past the maids. Down the hall, we walked until we made our way to her chambers. She closed the door behind me and pointed to the chair.

“I will actually help you despite your eyes being the size of the moon and your cheeks red flush as the Duke of Biscay’s clothes.”

“I… I”

“It is okay Mircalla. I am told I have an effect of the Sappho kind.”

“Sappho?”

“She was a Greek poet, popular among the ladies.”

“I have never heard of her.”

“Lost to time and to men.” Anne sighed walking closer, reaching out for me.“But history is for another day. Today is English lessons.”

“What can I practice?”

“You said you have trouble with conversations, we shall practice.”

“Oké.”

“How has your day been?”

“I am good, und you?”

“And.”

“And, the words… they are very close.”

“I am well.” She answered. “How is your land?”

“Great. My people are well… we ehh… our farmers are successful.” I tried.

“Your crops are doing great. Great. Your ‘W’s need the most work.” She shrugged. “Let’s try it.”

“Okay.” I nodded, trying it.

“Don’t bite your lip.”

“Okay.” I tried again.

“Closer.” She sighed. “Here, this might help.” Anne placed her hand on my jaw and pulled my lip down as I made the sound again. “Better, try again.”

“I feel stupid.”

“I know you do. Now try again.”

I nodded and made the same sound earning a nod. Glancing at her distance, I stepped closer and tried a word starting with ‘W’.

“Wonderful.”

“Good.”

“Worry,” I said stepping closer.

“Understandable.”

“Whimsical.” I tried standing centimetres away.

“Better.”

“Well?” I whispered.

“Bolder.” She commanded.

I quickly stood on my toes and kissed her, getting pulled in tight. Anne placed her hand on the back of my neck and turned her head to the side. I moaned into her mouth, never having felt this way with any of my betrothed men, but with the future Queen of Britain.

~~~~~~~~~~

(1698 Vienna, Holy Roman Empire)

I remember a lot from that night. The first moment that comes to mind was getting tied into a satin blue dress with dark indigo velvet accents. There were pearls sewn into the collar by a French seamstress. My father couldn’t come, so my mother and I left for Vienna. It was a long and silent ride. I can’t remember why, but my mother chose not to say a word through the four-hour ride.

There is an ingrained memory I have of getting out of the coach and going to the foyer where I found my old friend, Anne. I remember her name being announced by the herald at the top of a staircase.

“Her Royal Highness The Princess Anne of Denmark.” He proclaimed.

I turned around, leaving my mother in the dust to watch her descend from the staircase. I seemed like no one when compared to her. She was a vision in red and magenta silks imported from all over the world. She was married and we’d known each other for years, though that never stopped us. As soon as she escaped the crowd, I pulled her aside.

“Mircalla!” She quietly exclaimed, “I did not know you would attend! If I had I would have worn something else.”

I shook my head with a grin and pulled her into a kiss. She grabbed my hands and pulled them around the back of her neck. I sighed, pulling away and tucked my head into her shoulder.

“I missed you so much.” She chuckled, holding me close. “I have been practicing my German. George thinks I am doing so for talks I may have with William.”

“How is it?” I asked with my strained English accent.

“I do not know, it is a bit embarrassing.”

“I will try not to laugh.”

“Okay. Du bist so hübsch. Sobald wir uns versteckt haben, werde ich deine kleidung abreißen.”

“Just meine dress?”

Anne smirked and placed her lips next to my ear, whispering, “Then you will have a kiss avec la petite mort.”

I felt a searing chill shudder through my body as she finished her sentence, making me chuckle, “Does not really translate, but I still understand.”

Anne pushed me against the wall and began to bunch up my dress, pressing brazen kisses against my pale skin. She wrapped one hand around the back of my neck and held me close. Anne pulled at my collar, pressing warm kisses against my flush flesh, unbuttoning the front and letting it drop to the ground.

“Was ist, wenn uns jemand erwischt?” I gasped out.

“What if someone what?” She asked between kisses.

“Finds us?”

Anne shook her head, biting lightly on my breast. I let out a low groan, the pain cutting through my voice.

She swirled her rough wet tongue around my soft and sensitive-

“Princess Anne? Princess Anne of Denmark?”

“For God’s sake!” She hissed.

“Scheisse!” I seethed having Anne help me tighten everything again.

“Coming!” She called back, kissing my cheek.

“Good day, Anne.”

“Auf wiedersehen, Mircalla.” She whispered leaving with a final kiss.

I watched her escape to the party as I righted myself, tightening the front of my gown before heading back to the party. It was dark already, so I just stuck close to the wall, looking across the hall to the portraits of past occupants. The silence was broken only by the clicks of my shoes and the slight drag of my dress. I found my way to the room with my family name on it. Opening the door, I spotted a figure on the bed.

“Mircalla?” The thin voice asked.

“Ja?”

“I thought you would come by during the party.” They explained. I kept my distance, waiting for them to turn around. “Nothing to say?”

“I know not much English,” I responded. “Who are you?”

They stood up and turned around, a stalking tall woman somehow completely hidden in the dark.

“A shadowy gift.” She purred.

I turned around, but I then felt a rough hand wrap around my arm and tug my close. I was shocked as everything flew by fast. In moments, I was forced up against the bed, looking into the veiled face. She purred into my ear, her mouth a breath away from my neck. She smelled of iron or rust with a strong musk of the forest. I struggled against her grasp, getting slammed back on the bed. She grazed her teeth against my neck, her tongue searching, drawing up and down over one point. I felt my pulse quicken as the assault continued.

Suddenly and violently, she sank her teeth into my neck. My scream quickly dampened as I tasted blood flood into my mouth. Everything spun and faded to black in mere seconds.

~~~~~~~~~~

I opened my eyes to a low lit room. I noticed a dark figure in the corner. I was mistaken in thinking they were the same being that took my life. She neared me, her beautiful dark skin reflecting rays of the sun from the small room. She walked closer, staring down at me.

“Welcome Countess Mircalla.” She greeted. I jutted up, getting held back by her. “My name is Matska.”

“Was stimmt mit mir nicht? My head spins.” I muttered.

“It will be like that for a while.”

“Warum?”

“First, you need to learn English, Mircalla. It’s the language of the future.”

“I only speak some.”

“I will help you.”

“What happened?”

“It is complicated, you were attacked and now you are in hiding.”

“Does my mother know?”

“She believes you are dead, it is for the better.”

“How long was I sleeping?”

“7 months, longer than usual.”

“Was zum teufel?”

Matska sat down next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulder. “I am sorry, they succeed in your assassination.”

“My what?”

“You are no longer human.”

“What?”

“You are a vampire, like me.”

“Ich bin tot?” I asked in disbelief.

“I am sorry. I…”

I pulled away and hid my head in the pillow.

“I will be back.” She whispered.

Once the door closed, I got up and looked at the room. There was a closet and a mirror, nothing else. I walked to the mirror, glaring at the reflection. I was even paler, gaunt, my hair was sleek though, my eyes were a brilliant red. I looked terrifying. The door opened.

“I thought vampires had no...ähm…”

“Reflection, couldn’t be seen in mirrors?”

“Ja.”

“Just myth. I brought some food, here.” Matska gave me a goblet of blood, my first feeding. “You’ll feel better.”

Once I took a sip, a primal hunger took over me and I just engorged on my bloody feast. I licked the cup clean, wiping the blood from my mouth. I glanced at her and handed back the cup.

“When will my eyes turn… back?”

“After your first kill.”

“I… I do not want to kill.”

She nodded and kissed my forehead, leaving the room. “You are not locked in here.”

“Thank you, madam Matska.”

“Mati.” She corrected

~~~~~~~~~~

I had no control at first. She taught me how to change. She taught me my true form and I got to see her in her form as well. She just ran by my side, her dark coat only a shadow of mine. I caught the scent of someone, in it I followed until I saw my first victim. He was short and full of blood. Ripe and unknowing. I pounced on him, sinking my teeth into his back. Mati watched me feast, partaking after I backed away.

She shifted back to her human form and began laughing.

“Now you have had a taste of fun. We should go out more.” She chuckled.

“Is there a catch to you?”

“Not me, but Mother does, yes. Every twenty years we have to sacrifice someone to appease the gods and survive.”

“Is it… worth it?”

“Yes, immortality for a life.”

I don’t know why, but I nodded and went back to feast on my prey. Though if I knew then what I know now, I would have wanted to escape from their grasp and run as far away as I could. Mother turned out to be a depraved woman I should have avoided from the beginning. The century turned and to the world, Countess Mircalla Karnstein had long since passed and now a new ever-changing vampire was rising through society. Her light brown hair was stained and dyed black, her eyes were no longer a joyous brown but a desolate black. I honestly don’t know if I would now recognize my original self. I thought life was easy, hunting and partying, feasting and playing every night. A new gala with new girls, but I was disheartened when 1714 can to be. Mati Mother and I went to Silas where we stayed in a palace surrounded by other creatures. We brought along a young girl, a virgin to sacrifice.

I remember going to the building’s foyer, it was crowded in the basement and outside. I didn’t know where anyone was. I was alone, despite being surrounded by other mythical creatures. Everyone was barely dressed, some people were dancing and drinking, doing hedonistic things to each other and themselves.

“What is such a cute creampuff as yourself doing here, alone, on such a glorious night?” A soothing voice asked in the noise.

I looked up to see this beautiful woman with her stomach bare and very little covering her legs. She had these brilliant green eyes and thin gaunt features almost like death. Her hair was bright blonde and her skin was almost pearlescent. She had such a sinister, but inviting, smile I couldn’t resist.

“I have never been here before… I guess… I guess I just don’t know what to do?”

She held her hand out and smiled down at me. “Then let me show you.”

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Nanaya.”

“I’m-”

“Mircalla, I know. I know everyone, sweetie.”

I took her hand and she lead me outside where a large bonfire was. Drums and instruments played strong simple beats which created an air of ecstasy that took over my emotions as soon as I joined the pit of dancers. Nanaya placed her hands on my hips and danced. I put my hands on her shoulders. She pulled my hips against her leg, slipping between my thighs.

I felt beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead. The bonfire’s heat and our intimate contact made the world close in on me in a hot blanket that collapsed against my skin.

Nanaya ground my hips down against her leg, bringing her face closer to mine. She looked into my eyes, a grin appearing on her thin lips like a snake about to attack her prey, but I couldn’t pull away. I was completely entranced by her eyes, the music, and the feeling of her hands' firm grip on my hips.

Her grin turned into a malicious smirk and took hold of my skirt, tearing it off and tossing it into the fire, leaving me in my pair of short tight pants.

I don’t remember much of the night, only her eyes. They were just so green. They almost seemed to melt into blue as the night progressed then to a vibrant magenta when the day ended. The moment memories come back is when Mati tore me away from her.

“It was fun while it lasted, buttercup.” She smiled, kissing my hand and let me walked away with Mati.

“Don’t trust the creatures who come here. I usually just hunt. You get this new found energy.”

“What is she?”

“One of the main runners of this, like mother, only worse.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15667245/chapters/36394935

#carmilla #Carmilla Karnstein #carmilla fanfic #carmilla fanfiction #laura hollis #Hollistein #matska #LGBT #femslash #wlw #sfw fanfic

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animeniacss · 4 years ago

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 3 - Opportunities

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU,

Length: approx. 5k words

Chapter 3 - Opportunities

“…A preschool job?” Taehyung asked, looking up at his friend. Jimin had come straight over to his apartment from work, hurrying in and prying Taehyung away from a sketch that he was very invested in. Before Taehyung could even ask what Jimin was doing, he was given the piece of paper with all the information on it regarding the position.

“Yeah. My boss just gave me the information before I left. I think you should totally look into applying.” Jimin said, sitting beside his friend. “The pay is pretty good, and it’s not hard. You’re just doing art projects with a bunch of little kids.” Taehyung sighed, passing the paper back to his friend and running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Jimin.” He said. “I’m not really good with kids.”

“What do you mean? You always get along great with your cousins.”

“Okay, then let me rephrase,” Taehyung said. “I’m not really good with kids who I can’t play wrestle and backflip onto the couch.” Jimin nodded, leaning back in the seat. “Besides, I’m trying to be a famous artist, not a school teacher.”

“But it’s a job until you become a famous artist,” Jimin assured. “Besides, it could be fun. You need a change in scenery.” Taehyung sighed, getting up and walking back to his desk, plopping himself in his seat. “I need a day or two to make some samples for the guy. Will you at least tell me you’ll think about it?” Taehyung, running a hand down his face, focused his eyes on Jimin. Jimin smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with the same whimsical aura that they always had, an aura that always assured Taehyung that things would smooth over in the long run. Taehyung had put a lot of his trust in Jimin since he decided to pursue art when they were in high school, waiting for the bus stop one early Monday morning as they dreaded the idea of being up so early for school. Taehyung groaned, knowing it was only a matter of time before he gave in to his best friend.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll think about it.” Taehyung finally said. Jimin grinned, getting up off the couch.

“Okay, awesome. I’ll let you know when the flyers are done and I’ll give you one so you can call them.” Taehyung nodded, swiveling around in his chair as he looked back at his sketches that were stopped halfway through. Jimin yawned a bit. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight? I’m too tired to drive all the way home.”

“I guess so,” Taehyung said. He heard footsteps heading towards his bedroom, and he looked over. “Why are you heading towards my room? There’s a perfectly good couch.” Jimin turned back around as he shrugged off his suit jacket, folding it over his shoulder as he loosened his tie.

“You’re going to be up all night with that light on and I’m not losing sleep because of your pencil scratching and constant grumblings-.”

“Artistic grumblings,” Taehyung said, grinning playfully. Jimin chuckled.

“…Artistic grumblings…either way, I’m not letting it keep me awake. When you’re done, come to kick me out on the couch. Unless you want to join me~.” He teased, and both of them laughed.

“I’ll probably crash right here,” Taehyung said, patting his desk. “Just like always.” Jimin smiled a bit. “Goodnight.” He said, before swiveling once again to face his desk. Jimin watched as he picked up a pencil and began to draw again. He stood for a moment, just staring, before finally heading into the bedroom. When Taehyung was alone in his living room, he leaned back in his seat, pulling out his phone and quickly being bombarded with tons of Instagram notifications. He had uploaded a picture about an hour ago, before he really got into his work, of the sketching that he planned to do all night. He opened the app up, wondering what his followers were saying about his brainstorming stage. The comments were not what he expected.

Oppa, post a picture of your face~! ^.^ I’m sure you’re looking extra handsome today.

Don’t work too hard, you don’t want to get rings under those beautiful eyes, Oppa~ <3

I’m not really a big art fan, but I just think you’re so handsome, Oppa, I’ll follow you always! uwu

There were almost 100 similar comments, only a handful of them curious about what he was creating in the picture. He continued to scroll, hoping that he would find just one of those handfuls so that he could work tonight with a smile on his face. Through the seas of appearance-based comments, he finally found one. One that had nothing to do with his appearance, but his work. @MissSunshine43 wrote:

How do you always find ways to get inspired? I’m jealous. >.<

Taehyung chuckled a bit, tapping the heart beside the message and allowing it to pop up in bright red. He had to admit, curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped onto the profile of MissSunshine43. The profile itself was not what he was expecting. The page was bright and colorful, and it looked like a school classroom. Pictures that contained children had their faces covered by cute emojis, and as he scrolled, he saw all the different things that this school did. Different themed days for holidays, different events involving parents, and different types of work students had completed. A small smile formed on his lips as he continued to scroll, more and more curious with every picture that he saw. He didn’t need to see the kid’s faces to know that he was having fun with whatever they were doing. When a new set of pictures loaded, he clicked on the one picture of a female face. She was sitting around 4 kids, on top of a big, white tarp. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, hints of colored paint showing in her locks. Her hands as well as the hands of the emoji-faced students around her were holding up hands that were coated in different colored finger paints. The teacher had spots of red paint on her cheeks, with a small smile stretched between them. Sliding to the next picture, Taehyung saw a completed picture that was decorated with colored swirls, hearts, handprints, and crudely scribbled names most likely written by the students. In the middle, it read: Thank you for another fun year! 2018-2019. The picture was nothing stunning, but it seemed to suit the class it was for. Taehyung read the caption underneath:

Finally got to crack open the paints this year! Our teacher did a good job again, yeah? OwO

Taehyung’s finger ran along his phone screen as he examined the photo for a few more minutes. He thought back to what Jimin told him about the preschool job that would soon be up for grabs. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes, his hand lazily tapping on his phone a few times, then blinked, lifting his phone back up to his view. The photo he had just been looking at, one that was around a year old, had a big red heart on the side of it. His eyes widened, and he quickly turned his phone off and slammed his phone down, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair.

“Aaaah, fuck, now I look like a stalker.” He grumbled to himself. Taehyung sat like that for a moment, running his hands through his hair multiple times. Despite the constant reminder that he was an actual idiot running through his mind, he looked back at his phone, which lit up again with the notification of an Instagram interaction covering the background he had of him and Jimin posing dramatically in suits for one of Jimin’s important business events. Simply flipping over the phone so the case was exposed, he sighed. “A preschool, hm?” he mumbled to himself.

-------------------------------

Two days later, you were sitting at your desk, eating some lunch with Hoseok. He was helping you prepare for when the students returned from lunch, as this week’s focus was on different people in a community. So far, they had learned about the jobs of police officers, firefighters, and medical staff such as doctors and nurses. Today would be focused on teachers, and next week, after introducing a few more community workers, the students would be able to dress up as their favorite, and they would have a big celebration day. You were most excited about that and had lined up a few people that you knew in each profession who were willing to come and talk to the students about their job and what it was like. Videos and stories could only do so much, which is what you had been doing, so having real people come in would be a treat that kids were looking forward to.

“I wonder what all the kids are going to choose to dress up as.” Hoseok hummed, looking at you. You glanced up, popping a piece of leftover chicken into your mouth that you had packed from yesterday’s dinner.

“I have a feeling I know what a few of them are going to be.” You said, smiling. “Which reminds me, I need to go put up that flyer on the bulletin board by the front door for the parents to see.” You got up, setting your boxed lunch down onto the table, and picking up the colorful flyer with clipart pictures of different community helpers that the students were learning about. Hoseok continued getting today’s teaching activity ready while you headed out to the bulletin board. It was already covered in work made by the kids, as well as notifications for parents on school events, local community events, and anything else that they may need to know. It was a pretty crowded board of stuff. “I should get rid of all of the old news, huh?” you hummed, pursing your lips. You scanned the cluttered board, picking off a few events that had since come to pass. You began reorganizing the board, making sure that it was visually pleasing to the average eye despite all that was being displayed was various pieces of colored paper with lots of sentences written in Black Comic Sans.

“Yoooohooo~.” You heard a voice calling and turned to see Seokjin approaching you. He was grinning as he waved a thin piece of paper in his hands. “Just the pretty lady that I wanted to see.”

“Hello, Mr. Kim.” You said, a bundle of old and crumpled papers now in your hands. “What’s that?”

“The job application for the new art teacher~.” Seokjin grinned. You felt yourself grimace slightly, but you tried to remain subtle about it. Unsure if it worked on your boss – it probably didn’t – you watched as he stepped close and showed you the colorful paper. The name Bright Star Preschool centered the page in bright pink letters and an eloquently simple font. All the information necessary was written on the flyer as well, placed so creatively inside a giant-sized palette as replacements for the colors that would normally be seen on one. A paintbrush sat beside the over-sized palette, and on the bottom of the flyer held a contact phone number. It didn’t seem like such a massively elaborate project, and yet, somehow, you could tell it was done by professionals. “Doesn’t it look great? Namjoon’s workers know what they’re doing.” Seokjin walked to the board, lifting up the stapler that was waiting for use on the floor. As he stapled the paper onto the board, a content grin remained on his handsome face. “I’m excited to start interviewing.”

“Yessir…” you said softly. Seokjin looked at you, patting your head gently.

“I’m going to upload the flyer to our social media accounts, and I’m sure we’ll start getting calls soon, so get your interview face ready because you’re going to be incredibly busy.”

“Yessir.” You said, nodding your head.

“And grow your vocabulary, okay?” he teased, patting your shoulder. You watched as he headed back to his office, his hands behind his back as he strolled down the colorful halls in absolute bliss. Suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks and turned to you. You could see the excitement radiating off of his entire body, and towards you. It was like he was trying to push that aura in your direction and have it absorbed into you, but unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t work. “Oh, this Friday night I want to get that dinner I keep promising you. Okay? You’re not allowed to say no.”

“Yes-.” Seokjin’s eyes widened a bit, and you smiled a bit. “I’ll be there.”

“That’s my girl.” Seokjin slapped his hands together. “Get back to work.” He waved you off before once again turning on his heel and heading down the hallway. You watched him for a moment before Hoseok stuck his head out of the classroom door.

“You almost done? We need to go get the kids soon.” He saw your hands were still full of crumpled up papers and he walked over to you, gently taking them from you. “Head inside and finish eating your lunch, okay? I’ll go throw these out.” He offered you a grin that you just had to return, it was so genuine.

“Alright.” You said. Hoseok turned to face the bulletin board, finishing what you started as you headed into the classroom. You plopped your body down on the chair, every muscle you didn’t even know you had tensed up finally relaxing into the comfort of the seat. Your eyes scanned the classroom, currently empty, though you could hear the scattered conversations of students as they went through their daily routines, talking to Hoseok, talking to each other, and even talking to themselves. You had no idea what they were saying or what they meant, but it was music to your ears just hearing the scattered little voices. As you leaned forward, you continued to eat the leftovers, though they had unfortunately gotten even colder than they were when you opened them up only 30 minutes before.

The idea that five days a week, right after the students returned from lunch, 30 minutes would be taken away from your time with the kids. You already gave up 45 minutes to Yoongi three days a week when he came down from his full-time job at the high school to provide the students with needed physical activity, but Yoongi was here way before you were, so it wasn’t a big adjustment. Hoseok had gotten his job as your teacher’s assistant right after you were hired, per your request. But this new art teacher was just something you didn’t want to deal with. What if they were stuck up? Didn’t flow well with the kids? They might not share the same work ethic as you did, how would you keep the peace between your time and theirs? These ideas ran through your mind, and you felt a headache coming on that was even bigger than the daily ones you found yourself getting simply by being in this profession. Your eyes wandered to the clock, and you stuffed one more bite into your mouth before closing your lunch and sticking it back into your work.

It was time to get the kids from lunch, and you were never one to be late.

As Seokjin heard the sound of chattering children returning from the cafeteria, he was just finishing with getting the flyers out onto social media. With the final click of a button, he leaned back in his seat. Ever since he had made the decision, he felt bad for the way it made you feel. However, he could sugar coat it all he wanted, if you were to distracted by the mundane arts and crafts, everyone suffers. Especially the children. He knew you would get over it in time, and he knew including you in the process would take a little, if any, tension off your shoulders. He saw you pass by through the square window in his door, your head turned as you kept a finger to your lips in hopes to encourage silence from the children as you passed by his office. A smile stayed on his face as his eyes fell back down to the flyer still plastered on his social media.

“That Jimin kid really did a good job.” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s see how long it takes for us to start getting some calls.” He hummed, leaned back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head.

-------------------------------

“You want me to call now!?” Taehyung shouted. His phone was resting in between his cheek and his shoulder since one of his hands was tightly gripping a piece of sketch paper while the other was lodged firmly in his pants pocket.

“Yeah!” Jimin said. “I’ve been following the school’s social media, and they just posted the flyers about an hour or so ago!”

“Shouldn’t I wait a few days or something before I call? I’ll look desperate, won’t I?”

“Taehyung, this is a job inquiry, not a first date.” Jimin groaned. Taehyung could hear his friend’s annoyance through the phone. “Just call and say you know me and that you heard about the job. Namjoon-Hyung said the guy is really nice and the school is great.”

“How would he know?”

“His son goes there,” Jimin responded simply.

“That’ll explain it.” Taehyung sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll call now.” He said.

“Awesome! Call me back right after; I want to know how it goes! I’ll text you the number.” Jimin was quick to hang up the phone before Taehyung could even open his mouth to say goodbye. Glancing down at the phone, it wasn’t long before he saw a notification pop up, Jiminie as well as a phone number written in the little blurb. He stared at the phone for a moment, lips strung together in an extremely tight straight line. He knew the minute he did this; there was absolutely no going back. He would have to go in for an interview, at the very least. At the very most, he had to work as a preschool teacher for god knows how long. As he paced the back of his couch, he stared at the phone number, occasionally having to tap the phone with his thumb to ensure the screen would not go dark. As he paced, he thought back to the Instagram account he had come across recently. He thought about the smiling woman with the colorful paint all over her, and the students that he knew were smiling behind the emojis that covered their identities.

Was it going to be like that when he went? If so, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Taehyung sighed, pressing the phone number link as the screen went black. When a faint ringing tone was heard, Taehyung placed the phone to his ear. He chewed on his bottom lip, reluctantly halting his pacing and instead resorting to just slightly bouncing in one place. Finally, after what felt like forever, a voice spoke on the other side.

“Bright Star Preschool, this is President Kim Seokjin speaking.” The voice hummed. Taehyung froze for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he did this, having to act professionally. Well, he did, but the resulted in a shattered champagne glass and hundreds of eyes staring at him in shock and fear. “…Hello?” The voice hummed, and Taehyung blinked, realizing that he must have just barely been breathing.

“Y-yes, hi. Uhm, well. I heard from my friend that your school was looking for an…art teacher?” Taehyung bit his lip, scratching his mess of black hair. “He was the one who made the flyers for you.”

“Aaaaaaah, Park Jimin! Yes, he’s so talented!” Seokjin said. “I’m so glad you’re interested, you’re the first call we’ve gotten since I just put the flyers up a few hours ago.” Seokjin was silent for a moment. “Listen, Mr. Kim. Our school day is just about finishing up for today. I don’t want to inconvenience you with asking you to come to the school right away, so will you be able to come in for an interview sometime next week? You’ll be meeting the main teacher in the classroom as well.”

“Next week? Taehyung asked. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Great!” Seokjin cheered. “Do me a favor, please. Give me your email and I’ll send over a form for you to fill out and send back to me. Just put what days work best for you and I’ll get back to you.”

“O-okay…” This was all happening so fast, but next thing Taehyung knew, he was reading out his business email to the man across the phone. Seokjin laughed a bit.

“Awesome, I’ll send it over right now. Thanks for calling, I’m so excited to meet you.”

“Me too, Sir. Have a good day.” He said. Seokjin was first to hang up, allowing for a dead dial tone to ring through Taehyung’s ears. He sat down on his couch, laying his head back on the couch. “What days work best for me? I’m unemployed, all days work best for me.” He mumbled to himself. Before he had to sit and think of his busy schedule, he called Jimin back. It only rang for a second before Jimin picked up.

“What happened?” Jimin asked.

“I have an interview next week,” Taehyung said.

---------------------------------------------

“Bye, Mr. Hobi! Bye, Teacher!” Yuna cheered, waving to you as she walked hand-in-hand with her mother. You and Hoseok waved to the little girl as she clung to her mother, eyes wide as she talked about the fun day she had. A smile formed on your face, watching the eyes of the mother. She looked happy knowing that her daughter had completed yet another good day at school. Kids were being picked up left and right, a sea of loud goodbyes coming from all different angles. You smiled, waving them off as the children exited the preschool. It had been a long day of teaching about teachers, which is a lot harder than it sounds when you’re surrounded by kids who kept giggling at the fact that the same word was said twice in one sentence over and over again.

As the final handful of kids began to left, you were left with just one. Kai, also known as Hyuka by his friends. The youngest boy in the class with a big personality. He sat on one of the steps, his hands clutching his backpack as he kicked his legs. H didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that he was the last student in school, as Hoseok almost immediately crouched down with him and began talking to him about his excitement for next week’s party. Kai grinned as she shared the fireman costume that his father was planning to buy for him just for the occasion.

“Dad said I have to use it for Halloween too, but that’s okay. Dad has lots of parties.”

“That sounds so fun.” Hoseok grinned. “What do you do at those parties?” As the boys talked, your eyes wandered to the bulletin that Hoseok had finished reorganizing. The colored papers were placed in a way that was much more visually appealing to the eye than the cluttered mess that was there before. Looking closer, you saw BRIGHT STAR PRESCHOOL along with a painter’s set of supplies sitting right in the middle of the board, being the first to take the attention of anyone that looked there. You walked over while Hoseok was occupied, hoping to take it down and place it somewhere on the board. Suddenly, you heard Kai shriek.

“Daddy!” When you turned over, you saw Hoseok stand up and wave to the man that squatted down to lift Kai into his arms. As he stood up, you saw Kai fix his father’s glasses, which had gotten slightly crooked from the impact. Kim Namjoon. “Daddy I want to tell you about my day!”

“During dinner, okay?” he smiled. “I want to hear all about it.” Namjoon’s dragon-shaped eyes fell in your direction, and you felt your cheeks heat up just slightly. Those eyes, especially when behind those thick-rimmed glasses, always knew how to make you just slightly flustered. Namjoon set his son down. “Talk with Mr. Hobi for a minute while I talk to your teacher.” He said, patting his son on the head. Next thing you know, this six-foot-tall man was walking in your direction, hands stuffed in his suit pockets. A small smile formed on his face. “Sorry, I’m late. Jungkook called, said he couldn’t’ babysit tonight.”

“No worries.” You assured. “He was only here alone for less than ten minutes.” You offered him a kind smile. “I’m sure he’s excited to tell you about the past few days. He’s been talking to me about you every chance he gets.” Namjoon chuckled a bit, scratching his head sheepishly.

“I know, I know. But my workload is definitely lighter, so I’ll be picking him up myself again.” Namjoon shifted a bit, letting out a shaky sigh. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” You noticed Namjoon’s piercing dragon eyes turn round and soft, as a small, yet genuine smile formed on his face. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” You said gently. “I’m sure Kai would love that.” Namjoon chuckled a bit. A moment of awkward silence washed over you, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hoseok giving you a glance. When your eyes met, he offered you a playful thumbs up, before quickly turning back to Kai, who was still chatting on as if Hoseok never turned away from him. When you looked back to Namjoon, he was also staring right at you. You had to admit, it made you even more flustered to have all these men staring at you.

“I…had a lot of fun at that art show last weekend.” He said gently. “Did you?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I did. Thank you for inviting me.” He smiled down at you, and you had to reach up and play with the tips of your hair, needing for your hands to do something other than just lay dormant at your sides.

“Of course. I hope you’ll let me invite you to more places in the future.” He said happily. You sighed softly, looking at him.

“Namjoon, I don’t want my boss to make you feel like you have to-.”

“He’s not,” Namjoon assured. “I genuinely mean that I want to take you out again.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’ll…think about it. These next few weeks are going to be hectic planning for the rest of the community week and the party and everything.” Namjoon simply nodded in understanding. You felt the beginnings of another awkward silence falling over the both of you again, and your eyes wandered to the bulletin board behind you. Namjoon’s gaze followed yours, most likely hoping that whatever he would lay his eyes on would lead to even more conversational topics with you. He motioned to the flyer sitting dead center of the board.

“Seokjin-Hyung hasn’t stopped talking about the art teacher job he’s opened up.” He said, looking down at you. While he expected to see yet another smile form on your face at the idea of a new coworker, instead he was met with a slight frown on your face. “You don’t look too happy.”

“It’s not that. It’s…just a long story.” You admitted, your hand continuing to comb through your locks. Namjoon nodded.

“Maybe you can tell me over dinner?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. You looked up at him, chuckling a bit in amusement, and Namjoon followed suit.

“That was smooth. But like I said, I’ll keep you updated. Now, take your son home.” You motioned to the little boy, who was now looking in his father’s direction much like how Hoseok was still staring in yours. “I think he’s getting impatient.”

“Right…” Namjoon hummed, not wanting to end the conversation though he knew he eventually had to. “I’ll call you.” He looked at you. You offered a forced smile, nodding.

“Get home safe.” You said simply, nodding your head. You watched as Namjoon returned to his son’s side, scooping him up into his arms as the boy squealed in delight. Kai waved to you and Hoseok, saying a giddy goodbye as Namjoon headed out of the preschool gates and to the car that was parked outside on the street. You rested against the wall, crossing your arms as you watched Namjoon get his child situated into the backseat. As he opened the driver’s side of the door, he turned to offer you one last kind glance, before slipping into his car and driving off.

“Did he ask you out again?” Hoseok asked, standing beside you. When he saw you nod, he simply sighed. “Aaaah, what did you say?”

“Don’t be jealous, Hobi.” You teased, turning on your heel and heading back into the classroom to gather your things.

“I’m not jealous!” Hoseok pouted, following quick behind you. “I’m just curious.”

“Don’t be. I don’t intend to do anything with him. His son is my student, I don’t want him to be overwhelmed if his dad and his teacher started dating out of nowhere, it’s not appropriate.”

“He won’t be your student forever.” Hoseok pointed out, grabbing his bag. You glared at him, and Hoseok could only smile. “I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t just say it, then.” You said simply. Collecting your things, you headed out of the room and to Seokjin’s office to confirm with him that you were ready to leave for the day. Hoseok hurried behind you, calling out multiple apologies to you as you pretended you couldn’t hear them, despite only being a few steps ahead of him. As you walked down the hallway, your eyes fell towards a window that exposed the street outside the school, where Namjoon’s car had just been moments ago. You sighed, quickening your pace to the office.

You had no time for love, even if you wanted to. You needed to worry about this new art teacher that was going to ruin everything you had worked so hard to perfect all these years.

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vinterdronniing · 5 years ago

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RANDOM MOVIE THOUGHTS/HCS

When Agnarr is telling his story to Elsa and Anna, you can REALLY feel the influence his father’s ideals and mindset that are still set in place for him. When describing the forest and the Northuldra, while still holding a sort of whimsical air about him, when Elsa asked if they were magical like her he answers with ‘No, Elsa. They take ADVANTAGE of the forest’s gifts.’ His voice gets a bit more accusatory in that sentence. And it’s something that caught my attention this time around. When they show the Northuldra, there’s no sign of them ‘taking advantage’ of the spirits. While his tone is rough, you only see a sense of mutual respect between the Northuldra and the spirits. Neither one is really taking advantage of the other in any way. Just mutual understanding, respect, and a mutual existence. Just a subtle indication that Runeard really had no understanding of this and something that Agnarr clearly hadn’t fully either.

When Elsa and Anna find their parent’s ship, you can see a full body shudder run through Elsa and even sort of flinch back…Nothing really more to add to that, just that it indicates just how much of an affect seeing the ship alone has on her. I don’t think she ever harbored true feelings of guilt over the wreck/their deaths herself, but she did feel guilty for a number of other things that simply hadn’t been resolved prior to it. So, to see the ship then just really was a hard hit for her. That the only ‘closure’ she’d get in that moment for all of that regret and guilt is an empty, broken ship.

Baymax is in the movie. He’s a little snow figure that Elsa and Anna are playing with, and I thought it was adorable. xD

The four ‘spirits’ we are introduced to are not truly THE spirits themselves. Bruni, Gale, the earth giants, and maybe the Nokk were all trapped in the forest just as everyone else was. They’re more or less beings or entities that are directly connected to the true spirits themselves. That said, ‘spirits’ is more of a loosely used term for them as I believe they’re more or less an omnipotent entity. Maybe closer to ‘gods’ in a manner of speaking. They’re the ones who would have led the people of Arendelle out of the kingdom. Bruni, the Nokk, Gale, and the earth giants had absolutely nothing to do with any of that.

When they first entered the forest, Gale’s tactic of sweeping the group up in a twister hadn’t been an act of aggression or hostility. Like the earth giants, they sensed Elsa’s power, but quite possibly just didn’t know WHO it came from as they had been grouped together. And was attempting to draw out exactly who the aura of the fifth spirit was. Once Gale found it was Elsa once she used her magic to stop a branch from hitting Anna, they discarded the others and kept their focus on Elsa. As a wind spirit with no true form of communication, Gale was simply attempting to persuade Elsa’s ability to draw out those moments of the past from her. Once that goal was accomplished, they did what they could to guide Elsa and Anna to the path that would lead them to the truth. The Air element is one known as a virtue of knowledge. It very well could have known some sense of the truth, but given that it could not communicate as such, simply did its best to help both Elsa and Anna along to the answer.

#❄ ~ it’s time to see what i can do || headcanons #{(some are headcanons. others are just..things i noticed)}#{(but yea here ya go!)}#{(some of these things have probably already been pointed out or discussed but TOO BAD)}#frozen 2 spoilers #frozen spoilers

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codyfernaesthetic · 6 years ago

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Dichotomy

Part 9: Mallory gets some answers

Author’s note: Consider this a a short interlude. A calm pause for Mallory and you to know that there is a plan. Destiny has a way of finding you. Prophecy is inevitable. :) :) :)

“I’m so happy to see you.”

Mallory inspected the woman’s face, “Cordelia...” she muttered, as if to confirm it to herself, “I remember your name, but I don’t know why.”

She moved her hands to Mallory’s shoulders, eyes gleaming, “Hopefully we can fix that.”

She took another glance at her surroundings. Perhaps it was the lack of exposure to real sunlight or nature, but every sensation felt so....sharp. The warmth penetrated her chilled bones, and she realized how deathly cold the world had been since the bombs. The clean, calm scent of greenery and colorful flowers was overwhelming, cutting through the artificial life she’d existed in for so long.

“Where am I?”

Cordelia laughed, like the pleasant babbling of a brook, “I suppose this is what you would call Heaven. I sent you that message in the mirror, it’s a spell for descending into the underworld, though that’s a bit of a misnomer for this place. This is more like an above-world,” she stopped when she noticed Mallory’s dazed look, “I’m getting ahead of myself, I’m sorry,” she took her hands in hers, “It’s just seeing you here in front of me...” she sighed, “Well, come in and sit down. Would you like some tea?”

She answered eagerly, the prospect sounding amazing, “Yes, please.”

She followed the woman to the back of the greenhouse, a white wicker table and chairs awaiting in a shaded corner. Mallory sat as Cordelia took a porcelain tea set painted with pink flowers and began preparing the tea. Mallory sat back, taking a deep breath, the first in a while. She happened to look back over and see Cordelia staring at her as she placed her cup in front of her. She shook her head apologetically, “I’m sorry, I’m staring,” she took her own cup and settled into the other chair, “You’re just so beautiful.”

Her tone was oddly whimsical. Mallory just nodded, “Thank you.”

A long moment of silence passed, Cordelia took periodic sips from her cup, still...staring at Mallory with a soft smile. Despite having craved the drink when it was mentioned, Mallory kept it in her lap, hoping for some answers.

She cleared her throat, “Um, about my memory-“

“Yes, yes, absolutely,” she set the cup down and leaned forward, her fingers interlaced on her crossed legs, “I need to warn you, Mallory, I won’t be giving you...everything back. Meaning, you’ll remember enough to know who you are, but trying to cram everything you need to know in your mind immediately would be...catastrophic. Your mind is like a balloon filled with water, filled with entirely new experiences and memories after draining the old ones. We certainly don’t want it to pop.”

She indicated that she understood, the other woman motioned to the cup resting in her palm, “Drink your tea.”

Mallory pursed her lips and lifted the cup. She almost audibly gasped as the liquid splashed on her tongue; it tasted like citrus, leaving a delectable tang. It was probably the best thing she’d had since—

The experience of regaining her memory was like unraveling a thread in reverse, the string raveling back into a solid creation, different colored threads weaving back together into a tapestry. The hazy flashes of ghosts she’d seen at the Outpost became flesh and blood. The scenic white mansion nestled in New Orleans, the friends she knew and loved, the mentors who helped her hone her magic. A bespectacled redhead with a sharp tongue and expensive taste...Myrtle. A slim, charming brunette named...Zoe. A young African American woman, tough, outspoken, joyous...Queenie.

“My name is Mallory Church,” she repeated out loud as if to materialize the information, “I was a student at Miss Robacheaux’s Academy for Extraordinary Young Women,” she stopped as the image of Coco entered her mind; entirely different from the one she’d come to know, an insecure, but kind witch holding her hands as Cordelia told them they would carry on the coven, “Coco...”

Cordelia nodded, “That’s why you were so loyal, you were bound together with magic.”

Mallory was on the edge of her seat, her voice shaking, “I remember you. I remember everyone,” tears sprung to her eyes, “I failed, Cordelia, I couldn’t protect Coco. I-“

“None of that now,” she shushed her, gently caressing her face, “You are not to blame for what happened.”

“But why...how am I alive?”

“Don’t you remember? You’re special, Mallory,” her voice took on a fantastical quality, “And you have a glorious purpose.”

“Am I the...” the word felt strange to say, “next Supreme?”

“No,” she said simply, “you are so much more than that. Your destiny is bigger than the coven, bigger than anything you could imagine.” She leaned back, “But I don’t want to overwhelm you, I can tell how disoriented you’re already becoming,” she motioned towards the cup, “Drink some more tea, it should help soothe you.”

“What about Michael?”

Her smile disappeared, a dangerous flash in her eyes, “We will deal with Michael Langdon when the time comes. Please drink your tea.”

She obeyed, emptying the cup and setting back on the table. It was her turn to stare, emotion overtaking her as the happy moments at the academy flooded back in. The voided loneliness she’d known was becoming far more real than she could handle.

“I’ve missed you. I didn’t know it, but I missed all of you.”

“I know. Things are going to get better, Mallory,” she took her hand, “I promise. You have to return now, but know that I am always with you, you are never alone.”

They stood and shared a tight hug, the friendly aura revitalizing Mallory. She felt stronger, more calm.

She shot up from the ground with a gulp of air, having been thrown back into her physical body. Rhoda grabbed her shoulders, looking her over for wounds or abnormalities.

“Mallory! Are you ok?! What happened?!”

Mallory looked at her, a new sense of purpose filling her.

“I remember.”

#michael langdon #mallory #millory #cordelia goode #coco vanderbilt #madison montgomery #ahs queenie #ahs apocalypse #myrtle snow #zoe benson #ahs coven #cody fern #billie lourd #sarah paulson #millory fanfic #michael langdon fanfic

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dreamyarcana · 6 years ago

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A Price to Pay

hey y’all did you want some angst to brighten your day??

basically, I wrote my spin on the scene in Asra’s route (Book XV: The Devil) where you have to make a bargain with The Devil. Around 1800 words minus the dialogue.

All dialogue and characters minus the narrator (which is me) are obviously not mine, they’re intellectual property of The Arcana.

Help!

Faust's tiny voice is weak and vulnerable - it's one filled with fear. Asra and I share a glance, and we rush into the clearing, abandoning all caution we had before. There's a goat with a repulsive aura. It has red eyes and fur as white as snow, exactly like Lucio's. The markings on its forehead are distinct, dangerous looking, even. I recognize this new horror. However, much to my surprise, it bows before us.

Asra positions himself so he's between the goat and me. I can't help by feel a tiny blossom of light bloom in me - even in the worst situations, he was looking out for me. I wanted to cry and kiss him and hold him in my arms. But that wasn't an option right now. Worriedly, he glances back at me.

"Silver that's -" "I know who that is." I try to push whatever fear down my throat and stand up taller. No matter what, The Devil would not get the satisfaction of knowing he scared me half to death. He was one card I avoided or tried to avoid drawing, no matter what. Unlike Death, which looks bad and really isn't, The Devil, looks bad and is bad. He radiates a nefarious feeling. Cruelly, he holds Faust up as she struggles, like he was studying her intently. I clench my fist, furious. Let go! Her cries are so tiny as she struggles. I can't imagine what she's going through or thinking and wish nothing more to rescue her from this monster. A bile of hatred rises in my throat and I can feel myself glaring even more at the smug goat in the center. "Faust. Is that her name? How whimsical." The Devil's voice is not the gravelly, terrifying one I'd imagine. It had a handsome quality to it as if it was seductive and alluring me to fantasy of my dreams. I shake my head at myself and Asra gives me a worried expression before his attention snaps back to The Devil. "Asra and Silver ... welcome. First, I must apologize for the misbehavior of my underling." ...Great, we're starting out with bullshit. Glad to see this was going to go well with honesty and integrity. I curl my lip in disgust while Asra bristles indignantly beside me. His eyes are narrowed into dangerous slits, like a mother tiger protecting her cubs from the dangerous predator. "...your underling. Are you really going to tell me this is someone else's fault?" says Asra. "No need for such hostility. I simply just wished to talk to you. However..." The Devil gestures to Lucio, who slinks back just like Mercedes and Melchoir had when Portia commanded them to stop. "Rather than asking you politely, Lucio decided to kidnap poor Faust and abandon her in this maze. Most uncouth. Fortunately for everyone, no harm has come to her." Like hell no harm has come to her. You've scared her and that's a crime you would pay for by my hands if she wasn't in your ugly ass claws. I cross my arms, and then uncross them so I can take Asra's hand. He needs the comfort. "What do you want?" His voice is a growl as he spits out the unwanted words to the sinful being before us. "I want you and your dear Faust to be reunited, of course. But what is mortal saying? Possession is nine tenths of the law? I /am/ doing you a favor." Are you really? I really don't need be any closer to know than I am now, since I can smell your shit from all the way over here. I frown, making a face like I'm going to disagree and he continues. "Faust would've fared far worse in Lucio's tender care." That's an understatement, not only would Lucio have killed her, he would've likely cut her for Soup de Snake and have been broiling her or something. "I simply ask you for a favor. A trifle, really." A deal with the devil, just as the saying goes. This smells like trouble. Asra clenches my fingers even tighter now, and I try to squeeze back comfortingly. I can see how much this is hurting him and I can't help but want to take away every bit of his pain from him. "Get on with it. Tell me what you want," snarls the magician I love so dearly. I tense. I don't want Asra making any kind of dangerous deals any more. I don't want to see him hurt. He doesn't deserve any of this. "Oh, not with you. We've already dealt you and I." The Devil smiles, his defined mouth curling upwards unpleasantly. What does he mean by that? When Asra bargained half of his heart for my life, did he do it with The Devil? He couldn't have, oh please, no. Asra... I'm panicking as the gears turn in my head, but my thoughts come to a screeching halt as the snow white goat turns to me, the same sinister smile as before continuing to play on his lips. My pulse starts to increase, its drumming becoming erratic as the pounding in my head steadily agitates the rest of me. "No! No, listen to me, Silver," Asra begs, an equal amount of panic in his voice, "The Devil can't out right lie, but that doesnt stop-" Devil instantly draws a claw up to Faust's chin. No one says it, but it's easily understood that he's threatening Faust's life. I take a step forward, automatically reaching out towards the savage I loathe so much in the center. "Manners, Asra. I do detest rudeness." That's a little hypocritical, I want to say, considering you're being by holding Faust's life on the line. That's beyond rude, it's more like villainous and nonredeemable to me, but go off, I guess. "Silver, I propose you that you and I... Take a walk and have a private chat. We will be gone no more than an hour, probably less." ...that doesn't seem to awful, I guess, though I'd rather not be in the company of this terrible fiend. There were worse things, I suppose. Where was the catch though? A walk is a meaningless price to pay for Faust's safety and by extension, life. I brace myself. I am waiting for him to ask me to give up my magic or my life or half my brain or anything. I am waiting for the worst. But, strangely enough, it doesn't come. "After we are done, you will be free to go on your way. In exchange, for your charming time and company... I will immediately reunite your beloved Asra with his snake." Those words caught my interest and my eyes immediately shot to the snake his treacherous clutches. Anything to ensure Faust would return to my dear Asra alive. "Of course, if you agree to my terms, no harm will come to the three of you." That implies if I deny, harm would surely come to someone in the clearing here. All eyes are on me. Asra's are full of tears and I realize I am shaking myself and fight tears back myself. How dare The Devil make him cry! The Devil's ruby eyes gleam, but remain curious yet unreadable. My hands are tied behind my back. What could I say, no? What would that accomplish? Most likely, it would cause harm to Faust. The lavendar snake would be hurt, if not killed for a rash denial from me. However, making any deal with The Devil was dangerous. Anyone with even a smidge of goddamn common sense knew that. The way he worded his offer, it was like he was leaving out a /very/ important detail. Who knows - maybe our little walk had a staged accident. I could plummet to my death or walk into a trap that would kill me instantly. Really, the options were endless. I bit my lip. What would Asra want me to do? Would he pick his familiar over me or the other way around? Either option seemed unbearable, all I really wanted was to have a happy life with Asra, but most definitely not at the expense of his dear familiar. Refusing The Devil would be like sentencing Faust to death. Asra would probably be without the other half of his heart, Faust meant so much to him. He can't even cast spells without her. But what was Asra saying before he was cut off? The Devil couldn't lie but he could what? Trick me? Force me to play his little game? He already had Faust's life to play with. Therefore, we had to get her back, even if was the expense of my soul or even my life, whatever it may be. Secretly, I already knew the answer as soon as The Devil's words left his mouth. "Yes." The word was ragged, tired of this little game he had set up, desperate and exhausted. Asra buried his face in his hands. In response, I shut my eyes, willing myself not to cry here and now. "Reasonable and efficient. I like you, Silver." To be fairly honest, I rank your approval somewhere between shit and cobwebs in terms of preference. But that's just me. I say nothing in response. "So refreshing after the last mortal who dealt with me." "No, Silver, you don't know what the Devil has planned!" Asra looked even more anxious and I swiftly have to swipe away my tears that are gleaming like pearls in my eyes. It was the right choice, though. You know I would do anything to see you happy. I'd give up whatever that was needed for you or for Faust. I could never live with the guilt if Faust was dead. She didn't deserve to be dragged into this. It wasn't fair. Was it ever fair? Certainly not in The Devil's game. "True enough. But it wasnt your decision to make, Asra. Here is your dear Faust." I nearly collapse in relief as he released Faust, who dashes swifter than ever into her master's arms. Came to help. It is easy to detect a note of regret in her voice - she is very sorry, and thinks it was her fault. I shake my head the same time Asra shame his. "I would never abandon you, Faust," he croaks. His eyes flicker to mine and I can't bear to look at him longer. "Nor you, Silver." I'd rather you did though, if it meant the difference between life and death for Faust. Maybe he'd even gain the other half of his heart if I died again. "Most heartwarming. However, Silver and I need to settle the other half of our bargain." His seductive purr is almost amused, but remains detached. I swallow before moving towards The Devil. Like an after thought, I swerve to Asra at an alarming rate, and fall into his arms. He catches me, but I'm still able to catch him off guard with a brief hug and kiss that told him how sorry and scared I am. I pull away, much too quickly, but I know if I held onto him any longer, I could never let go. "Now then, Silver. Your time and company, if you please." The Devil offers me his claw and I take it, squeezing my eyes shut. No pain comes to me, but I know immediately I made the wrong choice. Now it's time to pay the consequences.

#the arcana game #the arcana #asra #magician asra #faust #count lucio #the devil #angst #dreamy writing #the arcana spoilers #asra route spoilers #>:3

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thefairefolk-rp · 7 years ago

Photo

Hey, Kristie! Your application for Sybil Dill has been accepted!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/nickname: Kristie

Age: 22

Preferred Pronouns: She/her

Timezone: GMT+8

Activity and Availability: I maintain the seven-eight out of ten that I mentioned earlier, having dropped some extra characters in the other RP I’m in. I still don’t have a job or attend classes, so RP and YouTube are all I have. RP is slightly less sad, so, near daily lurking is the least you can expect. Replies happen at least once a week, or that’s the intention.

Have you read the rules and FAQ: Mhm

IC INFORMATION:

Desired character: Sybil Dill

Second Choice Character: Poesy Dew

What made you choose this character: I was eyeing up Sybil from the moment I found this RP, but as stated in my original app for Indigo, I didn’t want to dive into the political side of things before I had the opportunity to get to know what the environment is like in practice. Aside from that, Sybil’s bio entrances me. She’s eccentric and a strong leader in spite of (because of?) this quality. Everything implies protectiveness and loyalty and some sort of wisdom to her words. What convinced me to app for her now was banter about potential interactions with other characters, which implied a more unique and versatile expression than Indigo generally gets. She’s blunt and unpredictable, can be tactful or whimsical depending on what’s necessary (or possibly more infuriating for whatever company she’s in) – yeah, there’s just a lot of her to explore, and I’d love to play with that. She’s almost like some sort of awesome hybrid of Luna Lovegood and Layla Williams (plant lady from Sky High).

Are there any changes you would like to make?: Nope! I like her as is.

Questions/Comments: You guys have been fantastically accommodating, and I’m delighted that I joined this group when I did. Also, she may possibly already have a Pinterest board that I absolutely haven’t been working on since she first caught my eye. It’s here. https://www.pinterest.com.au/khr1996/ff-sybil-dill/ and features everything from aesthetic stuff to text stuff to style stuff to vague musing stuff.

Writing sample (this got as bit long…sorry?):

All humans who lived on the outskirts of the forest that separates them from the faelands knew one thing. It was not that the fae lurk just on the other side of the dangerous woods, where so many of their kind had vanished forever. No, what they knew was that there was one tree that was not quite like any other.

At first glance, it seemed to be a great oak. It had been there for centuries, outlasting every tree around it. It was not quite right, growing that little bit straighter than every other oak in the human forest. Dark bark gleamed like something out of a dream, and in the right light, the leaves seemed almost to give off an aura that humans simply could not begin to comprehend. Even when plans had been made to clear the forest around it, this one oak had survived. It had been assigned meaning in religions practiced by humans, and become something even young lovers would never carve their initials into. Local traditions told of an unseen guardian of the tree, and that, if one were quiet and respectful, they may use a strip of ribbon to tie their deepest desires to the bough of the oak. If the wishmaker pleased the guardian, then their wishes may be granted.

Sybil sung quietly to herself as she approached the tree, scattering crumbs for the birds her daughters so loved. The song was out of place in human lands and in the forest, picked up from Nightshade Row on a brief trip and wonderfully bawdry in nature. She’d sung it once in a central part of Olia and had crowed in delight in the aftermath, as stunned aphen debated appropriate reactions and saplings applauded. One young man had transformed into the colour of a plum as he struggled to find the words to ask someone of Sybil’s supposed esteem to leave.

The song came to a close as she reached the tree, and the pooka pressed her palms flat against the trunk. If she was quiet, she could almost feel energy of the great oak, and the spirits that guarded it. Her mother, her grandmother, her great-grandmother, the last of whom had been the one to originally plant a fae tree in human lands as a defiant experiment near the end of her life; all three great women felt closer to her here than they did in fae lands.

The stories claimed that her grandmother had been the originator of hanging wishes in the tree, so like those that lingered now. A human hadn’t known what to make of the unfamiliar fae script scrawled over and over again on notes bound to the tree with a dozen different types of ribbon. The human had hung their own wish, not realising they were misinterpreting a unique memorial of the woman who’d planted the tree in the first place. On an impulse, Sybil’s grandmother had then decided to satisfy the wish. Every time Sybil told one of her daughters the story, the wish changed. A safe pregnancy, purest love, the ability to afford to pay the taxes thrust upon them by selfish lordlings – it’d change on a whim. It seemed unlikely that Sybil really knew how the story went any more, but she had continued the tradition.

Today, four wishes hung from the wishing tree. Sybil did not read well, but it was enough to interpret the awkward, familiar scrawl of the priest of the nearby village, who transcribed the humans wishes for those not lucky enough to be literate themselves. She’d leave some gifts for the man later, in all likelihood, to thank him for his selflessness in helping the other village dwellers.

The third wish was the one that caught her eye. A harmless little baby, ill with something the healer could not fix. Well, Sybil had a hundred different balms for that. And she’d treat herself this time, she decided, retreating further into the woods to collect the more potent ingredients. She’d always rather liked buds, and their squalling human equivalent. They were much less inclined to take boring perspectives on, hm, anything at all. No one more cautious – more dull – was around to stop her from going to tend to the baby directly.

The village was not far from the tree, though it was much younger. The people were at once familiar and not to Sybil, who had paused only to weave a strong enough glamour to distract from her fae-borne beauty, the like of which would enrapture these poor humans. The humans blended together, of course, and it had been perhaps a decade since Sybil had last tended to a matter in this place directly.

It was not difficult to find the poor panicked father who had arranged the note in the first place. He clung to the baby in the town square, clean tracks written through the filth on his skin by tears. The babe in his arms was comparably still, unresponsive to his rocking and cooing.

“May I?”

The man lifted his gaze, staring at her. Sybil’s warm smile was likely inappropriate, and she would expect humans with their fragile lives to be ridiculously afraid of the concept of death and illness. He looked at her as though she was insane. In a shirt two sizes too big and clothes dyed in shades human nobles would weep for, she made quite the picture. Her smile only grew; the man was lucky she’d thought to glamour her hair to a nice, quiet shade of auburn – otherwise, she had learned, ungrateful humans may well call her witch.

“Please, pass me the babe,” she demanded in the most polite tone she could muster, crouching at the mans side. “She can hardly come to more harm than she is in this moment.”

Mutely, the man seemed to resign himself to this point. His tears fell quietly, and he pressed a lingering kiss to his babes forehead. Sybil’s smile softened as she took the child into her arms, cradling it as she remembered from Tallulah and Ephigenia’s bud years. “They never stay small long enough,” she told the father, examining the child from head to foot. It looked like a simple human disease, but the child was freshly born, and yet lacked the right defense to fend it off. “Though they do try their hardest, once they get a little bigger. Where does it hurt, little one?”

The babes eyes flickered open for a moment, fixing on Sybil’s face. There was something there, something that most humans lacked – the old fae imagined she could see the gift in the childs’ gaze.

“As I thought,” she murmured, before passing the child back to her father. “Hold her,” she ordered, carefully even-toned despite the fact that the human hardly seemed spooked. She could think of some fae who could stand to learn such skill in hiding their emotions, actually. Chuckling at the very idea of telling them the human father had superior control, Sybil dug into her pockets for the things she had crafted to help.

“A charm, to bless her,” she said first, producing a carefully crafted pendant. Too large for the babe to choke on, constructed of twine and one of the smoothest rocks found on the beds of streams in the deepest parts of the forest, it hung on a tough leather cord. Sybil slipped it over the babes head. “She must carry this always, even as she ages, lest her constitution fade.

“A balm, to soothe her,” she went on. This one was a poultice of sorts, crafted from plants that grew only in uninterrupted sunlight. Morning lilies were a key ingredient, flowers that bloomed only as long as the sun rose, and closed as the day wore on. Sybil used two fingers to smooth the substance across the babes forehead, cheeks, and chest. “This must be applied once a day until she behaves as the healer says is expected.”

For the first time, the father spoke, his voice a mere croak. “What if it does not work?” A lesser fae would insist he repeat himself. Sybil, of course, would not. Not when the father wept so.

“It will work. If you use too much, have the priest write for the wishing tree again. The last thing you need to remember is that she will need plenty of water. Treat her as though she will survive, and she will.” Sybil placed a hand on the mans shoulder, her smile wide. “Trust me. I’ve seen this more times than you can count.”

The man eyed her warily, but did not seem inclined to question her further. Instead, he swallowed, leaning down to kiss his daughter again, a little to the side of the poultice on her forehead. “Thank you.”

Sybil got to her feet. “No need for that, young man,” she answered with amusement, before turning away, leaving the man and his child to their lives.

#accepted

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