#There's also a hall of mirrors(?) and I just know my character isn't going to like that

[lauracantsleep]

Drive.

Synopsys: Truth be told, he didn't think twice before springing into action. Trouble would come, it always would. They were sitting in the eye of the storm, and he had to make sure that someone would be there to care for Lena. Certainly, it wouldn't be Baz. With Smurf in jail, Pope was all she had.

A/N: posted this on ao3 a few days ago and figured I could share it here as well. season two pope broke my heart, completely shattered it - so obviously I decided to write about it lol. it has been over a decade that I've written fiction with the intention to share, so bear with me. english is not my first language and this wasn't beta-read. also this is not a x reader/oc fic, more like a tiny character study.

set during 2.12 | 1 .4k words | ao3

╰✧˖°°.☾.˖✧･ﾟ･⋆.｡.˖･ﾟ･✧˖.☾.°°˖✧˖°°.☾.˖✧･ﾟ･⋆.｡.˖･ﾟ･✧˖.☾.°°˖✧╮

Maybe he wasn't the best option for her. There's nothing in his life that could assure him that the man he sees in the mirror would be a good father, but he loves her — of that he is sure of. More than her own father does, as much as it pains him to admit it. But not more than her mother did.

Pope's head feels heavy, like his brain is too compressed inside his skull. It wants to get out, he wants to get out, but there isn't a way. It's how he's felt for years now, maybe his whole life, if he were to be honest. He doesn't know — Pope doesn't feel like he knows much these days.

Gripping the sides of the sink, his head falls. Arms straining under a lavender shirt as he breathes in and out. Pope doesn't particularly enjoy looking in the mirror, doesn't do it often, because why would he? He knows what he looks like, there's no need for a reminder. The mirror shows him what he already knows. The hollows under his eyes a testament to all the things he can't undo. There’s a fracture in him, a crack that never healed right. Or maybe he just wasn't born right - he considers that every now and then.

Everything is a blur, all the things that could have been his, but aren't. His wife, his daughter, his home. All thrown away, life moving on without him during his years inside, doing time alone.

"Uncle Pope?" Pope raises his head with a sharp inhale, finding in the mirror a small figure holding onto the door frame behind him. Half in the hall, half here with him.

Lena watches him with cautious eyes — much too cautious for someone her age, he notes. Her voice is but a whisper. She's been quiet lately — a result of living with his brother, who made for a less-than-ideal father.

"Hey," his voice quieter than usual, still hoarse from screaming into his pillow during the night. He couldn't sleep. "Did you finish packing?" Pope turns around, moving towards her. Lena looks up at him and nods, seeming unsure as to what to do now. "Good girl, Lena."

If there's any pain in his body, and not just the ever-present mess in his head, he doesn't feel it now. Not with Lena looking up at him, so fragile. She looks just like her mother, he sees it all the time. The resemblance kills a part of him everyday. A shot to the heart, lack of oxygen. Suffocating inside his own self. Catherine raised a beautiful girl. His girl. Pope opens his mouth but the words don't come, not at first, lodged in his throat. As they stare into one another, this is one of the moments when he wishes he knew what to say. Wishes that the right words would come. Something that could make things better. Something to prove to her that he would fix everything (but that would be a lie).

"Are we going to Disney?"

"No. No, not to Disney." The words come out with a struggle, but as softly as ever with her. It's only with her that he can be this way. He used to speak to Catherine like this too, when they were young. And then when they were adults, when Baz wasn't around. It happened a lot once his mother started training him. "But we are going someplace nice, alright."

When he reaches out, his hand hovers, adjusting, hesitating. Pope touches her the way you’d touch a bruise — barely there, all weight held back. No grabbing. No claiming. Nothing like  her.

But then his palm settles on top of her head, stiff at first before softly patting it once, twice. Lena is not afraid of him, she looks at him with trust, knowing he'll be there to check for monsters under the bed, to take her to school and be there on time to pick her up. His fingers loosen, threading carefully through her hair — just as soft as her mother’s. The realization hits him like a punch to the throat. For a moment, it's harder to breathe, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb brushes her temple, once, a silent apology for everything she’s lost, twice, a promise to do better.

Lena gives him another nod, lips sealed. Pope exhales through his nose. He’ll have to work on that, undo all the damage his brother had done.

"Is Mommy gonna be there?"

His throat moves, feeling tighter. He swallows hard, like he’s testing the gentleness of his voice before letting it out. Words don’t come easy to him, but for her, he tries. "No, mommy is not gonna be there, Lena. But she wished she could be there with us. It's what she would have wanted."

Another lie. He can't seem to stop. A part of him believes that it's because she's too young, fragile, innocent. He can't exactly tell her that her mother is dead and worse, by his hands. No, he can't do that. Maybe someday she will know, and when that day comes, she will hate him. Pope knows that. But until then, he is gonna give her a chance at a life. Something his mother didn't do for him, something he stopped Catherine from doing when she had the chance.

"Okay", her voice comes as a whisper.

Lena doesn't cry. She hasn't cried in a while, save for the nightmares. He's there for her when she wakes up in the middle of the night, afraid of a bad dream. 'It's the man, I can hear him outside', she told him once. Pope knows exactly what she's talking about. He doesn't need to close his eyes to remember her voice, calling for Catherine from the car while he dug the grave to bury her mother in.

Monster, the voice inside his head screams.

Yeah, he's aware.

By the time they leave, the house is bare of anything that matters. Chair still in the hallway from when he was guarding her door, after giving up on sleep. Toys and clothes are packed in a suitcase and Lena's backpack. Pictures of her and Catherine. Some with Baz and Smurf. Anything else is replaceable.

Andrew has his shades on as he closes the trunk, dark lenses hiding whatever flickers behind his eyes as he scans the street. Inside, a final packed gym bag sits beside a suitcase — closed all the way, all zippers to the same side. Another black gym bag is there, though the inside stores no clothing. He barely glances at it. His cut. Lena is strapped to her child seat in the back of the car — something nondescript, the kind of car you wouldn't look at twice, just until they're clear to buy a new one somewhere his family can't trace.

The door slams shut as she reaches for the green case on the seat next to her — a new tablet, something to keep her occupied. Andrew adjusts the mirror as he gets into the driver's seat, making sure he sees her. She seems okay, he tells himself. It could be worse. It's his mess, it's his ruin, but he won't let it touch her.

They hit the road with the California sun setting behind them. His old phone is thrown out the window. A cartoon in Spanish is playing from the tablet, the silly and loud noises taking over the interior, but he doesn't mind. Lena's a child, she's meant to be loud. Those headphones are no good for her. There are studies about that. And about all those hours she's been spending glued to a screen. Yeah, she doesn't need that. He'll get her some books when they're home, new crayons — the good shit, not that crap he used to colour with Julia — and stuffed animals to keep her entertained. He saw a play kitchen at the mall — maybe she could open a restaurant. The shadow of what could have been the beginning of a smile brushes past his lips.

He would give her a new life.

Truth be told, he didn't think twice before springing into action. Trouble would come, it always would. They were sitting in the eye of the storm, and he had to make sure that someone would be there to care for Lena. Certainly, it wouldn't be Baz. Half the time he forgot he had a daughter. With Smurf in jail, Andrew was all she had.

Maybe he wasn't the best option for her. Maybe he could never love her more than her mother did, but Andrew loved Catherine, and he loves their daughter too. He'll love her for both of them. And no one would find them, no one would touch her, no one would get past him. It's just him and his daughter now.

Andrew and Lena.

(his fingers tap the steering wheel once, twice)

They'll be alright.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday. I didn't have to change this because apparently the last time I updated was also a Wednesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You look in the mirror, the steam receding to the frame. You look tired. You feel it. 

You put away the bottles you used for your bath and try some of the brown sugar moisturizer, hoping it might ease the dry spots left from the friction of your pillow. You cap it and place it in the basket with the rest.

You hang your towel on the rack and flip back the silver tab of the lock. You come out into the hall and nearly trip on your own toes. Andy stands casually against the wall, a dark blue towel folded over one arm, his phone in his other hand as he looks at you over the top.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope… hope I didn't take too long…"

"Nah, haven't been waiting long," he smiles and scratches his beard, a few tufts out of place as you hear the coarse graze of his fingertips, "sleep okay?"

You lie, "yes…You?"

"God knows I tried," he shrugs as he stands straight, "pretty shaken by the cops swinging by, you know?"

"Uh, sure," you tuck your lip under your teeth, "sorry–"

"You're not the one who needs to apologize," he waves you off and taps his thumb on the side button of his phone, crossing his arms, a gesture that emphasizes his size. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something before I start the day."

"Oh?" Your brows squiggle together. What have you done wrong now?

"Did you wanna come to the library? I figured if you need to put together a resume for your application I could get together a few resources. It'd be a quiet place to work." He looks almost nervous as you watch his hand squeeze his phone tighter, knuckles white, "we could get some tea down at the cafe, maybe some lunch?"

You consider him and his request. It isn't a bad idea. You don't know where to start with a resume. You only imagine a blank piece of paper, as empty as your life. You try to smile, your cheeks dimpling painfully.

"Okay," you agree. 

You don't know you have the courage to say no. It is his house and it's a thoughtful idea. Amber always said you should get out when you feel grey… Amber…

"I'll go get my tablet," you say to chase away your sadness, "thanks, Andy."

"No problem," he takes a breath, relief uncoiling the tension from him. Had he really been so anxious? "You're the one doing me a favour, so thank you."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I won't complain for the company and it'll give me something to look forward to," he moves towards the bathroom door as you sidle out of his way. His hand seems to float over your shoulder just before you elude it. Instead he presses it to the door. "I'll try to hurry."

🕊️

It feels almost surreal to be back at the library. It's a reminder of everything that's happened. All that's changed.

Andy brings you in with him as he opens. You stand at the counter and watch him. He does everything with graceful certainty. It makes you insecure, there's nothing you know how to do so effortlessly.

When the library opens, it remains quiet. Andy gathers a few books for reference and you take them to the basement, wary of getting in his way as the first patrons arrive. You're much more comfortable in the isolated underground. 

You claim your usual spot and prop your tablet up in its case sideways. You open a book and delve into the basic formatting of a resume. You type your name at the top but the next line stumps you. Address? What do you put? Andy's? You don't even know it.

You skip that and put your email. Phone number? Yeah, not that either.

You work slowly. Your frustration mounts as you distract yourself with making neat margins and inserting lines over inputting any information. You have nothing to add. No skills, no experience, no value. 

You put your head in your hands and take a deep breath. You're overwhelmed by this simple task. How can you expect to have a job? Like Andy and Amber and everyone else. Everything that is so easy for them is almost impossible for you. You are dumb and worthless.

You stay like that for a while, staring at the table, fighting back tears. What are you going to tell Andy? That you're a loser. That all those expectations he has, you can't meet. Maybe you deserve everything you get, maybe Amber didn't deserve the blight of your existence.

"You're here," her voice draws your head up, as if you summoned her with your thoughts.

You blink, not believing she's real. Amber rushes forward and you sit back, staring wide eyed, terrified at her. She winces and stays on the other side of the table.

"What… why are you looking at me like that?" She clasps her hands together, "please, just listen, please," she pulls out the chair and sits, stretching and arm across the table, "I'm not here to argue–"

"How did you find me?"

"It's not that hard, I know you. I'm your sister."

You fold your arms, shrinking down, brow furrowing, heart sinking. Why is she doing this? She's only her to make you feel worse.

"I'm not here to argue, alright? I just want you to hear me."

"You called the police," you accuse.

"You left in the middle of the night," she hisses, "what was I supposed to do? I was scared."

"And so was I," you snap back. "I'm fine…" you look down and spread your hands over the pages, pushing the book flat, "I'm going to get a job."

She pauses and looks down at the book. She leans in and nods.

"That's great," she forces out stuntedly, "I can help if–"

"No," you shake your head.

She sits back and sighs, "what did I do?" 

"I told you. I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't, bubba."

"Bubba?! You talk to me like I am."

She seals her lips and swallows your word with another nod. She puts her hands on the table, as if steadying herself.

"Right, I'm not going to talk to you like a child. I'm just going to say what I came to say and you can choose to hear me or not." She takes a breath and sets her jaw, "that man does not want to help you. You can't see it but he doesn't want what's best for you, I do.

"I know you've made your choice but it's the wrong one. I can't change your mind, police said they won't bring you back, but I can at least try to talk some sense into you. You do what you want, be the adult you claim to be, but at the end of the day, you're my sister and you always will be.

"Bubba, if this all goes wrong, when it does, I will be waiting. My door is open. Today, tomorrow, in a week, a year, whenever you need me–"

She shudders as her eyes glisten and she puts her palm to her chest, "please just think about what you're doing."

You drop your chin. Your heart clenches. Amber always sounds right. She's always been there but you just can't go back. It feels cowardly to change your mind just because you have to do things for yourself. 

And you just don't believe her. You want to so bad but you see what she's doing. Andy showed you what to look for; she's playing the victim. She hurt you, you didn't hurt her. She couldn't handle you being out of control and now she's panicking.

"Bub…" she utters. You just stare at your lap. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll bring you whatever you want–"

"Hoovering," you whisper, tilting your head up slightly at Amber's confused hum, "it's when a narcissist tries to win back someone they lost. Through spontaneous contact and making empty promises…"

"Bubba, how– I wouldn’t do that."

"I thought you wouldn't… before."

She lingers for a moment. She stands slowly and fixes her purse on her shoulder. She looms over the table and lets out a shallow breath that sounds like a sob.

"You know I'll pick up the phone. I'll be there…" she drags her fingers across the table, "whenever you need me."

She hesitates before she turns to leave. You hear her gulping as she steps between the shelves and steps shuffle out from the staircase.

"Hey, what are you–" Andy's accusation fills the silence, "dove! Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Amber growls, "and don't touch me." You look up as she shoves away his hand on her arm, "I'm leaving…" her voice is sticky with repressed grief, "she won't listen. Are you happy you fucking monster?"

He squares his shoulders and looks at her, glares down his nose, "I'm helping her. Something you never did."

"Fuck yourself. If you hurt her, I will–"

"That won't work. You're not going to stand here and scare her," he snarls, "so go."

They lock in a staredown before Amber elbows past him, marching to the stairs and stopping to look back down at the aisle. You sink down and cover your face. You feel a pit swallowing up. This shouldn't be so hard. None of it. Writing this damn resume or living your own life. It's so hard.

🕊️

You sit in the cafe, watching the street through the window from your seat in the corner. You feel as if you're outside your own body, like you're floating over the pedestrians, watching from some secret tower. You close your eyes and see the blank document etched into your retinas. 

The clink of a dish brings your head up. You sit back, limp and barely able to support your own weight. You just feel empty.

Andy sets down a sandwich before you, beside the steaming tea you hadn't touched. He gives a sheepish smile as your eyes bore past him. He sits and places a napkin beside you plate.

Neither the sight or scent of food can stir your appetite. You can't even remember the last time you ate. Last night you pushed around the casserole noodles until he stopped paying attention.

"Looks good," he says as he reaches for his foamy coffee. "I grabbed a little surprise for dessert tonight," he says as he sets his cup down and pats his jacket pocket.

You nod and clear your throat. The simple act hurts.

"Thank you," you force out.

"Well," he hovers his hand over his plate, "dig in. It looks delicious and I'm sure you're starving."

"Uh, sure," you drone and consider the thick sandwich; a croissant stacked with turkey and swiss, a leaf of lettuce and slice of tomato peeking out.

You grab your cup instead and take a swig. You hum, "I didn't even try my tea," you distract him, "how's your coffee?"

"Good, mocha usually isn't my thing but not bad. Gotta try new things, right, dove?"

"Mhmm," you peel away the edge of the lettuce and make yourself nibble it. It tastes awful. Everything is terrible.

"Been a good day, so far, not too busy," he carries on, "how's the resume coming?"

You shrug, "not done…"

He clucks and nods, letting out a long breath. He leans forward and picks up his ham and cheddar on rye. He takes a bite as you tear away some of the croissant and pretend to chew on the end.

"So… guess we should talk," he swallows, "about your sister."

"I don't want to," you whine, "please–"

"I need to know what she said, honey. To protect you. Like last night, hm? When she sent the cops after you like some criminal."

"She was only worried," you rebuff.

"About herself. About making herself feel better by standing on your back," he puts and elbow on the table, lowering his brow in a serious way, "I tell you every day you can do anything, and what did she ever do but tell you not to even try."

You frown. Your heart is in pieces. You don't want to be here. You don't want to be anywhere.

"I'll keep working on my resume," you say, "I'll be done it soon."

He huffs and sniffs at his sandwich before taking another bite. He is silent as he swallows, his gaze weighing on you.

"We can get a box if you wanna take that back with you. No eating in the stacks but just don't let anyone see."

"Thank you, Andy," you say, "I'll be hungry later for sure."

"Mhmm," he taps his foot under the table, letting the silence hang.

You cross your arms and sit back, looking past him to the street again. You wish you had somewhere to be with a briefcase, or were running to catch a bus, you wish you had any purpose but to be a burden.

🕊️

You put the casserole in as Andy mutters to himself and flips through the channels. He says there's some ball game on. You're happy he at least had something to fill the void of your conversations.

You wait in the kitchen. You watch the timer countdown and when it dings you take out the pan. You set it on the counter and scoop out a healthy helping into a plate. You take a fork and knife and rest it on the rim, going to stand in the archway that looks into the front room.

"Do you wanna eat here or at the table?"

Andy looks over, his arm stretched over the back cushion of the grey couch.

"I'll come eat with you," he volunteers as he sits forward.

"No, it's okay. I'm going to lay down… I have a headache."

"A headache? I have advil," his forehead creases with concern.

"Already took something. I think it's going to rain…"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I… was looking forward to eating together."

"It's okay. Tomorrow," you promise, "please, enjoy and watch your game."

His mouth slants as you approach and put the plate on the coffee table. You feel uneven and wobbly. You just want to sleep until you can't wake up.

"I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow," you step back and hide a yawn behind your hand.

"I hope so," he says, "I'll check on you before I turn in. Just to make sure you're okay."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," he insists, "you know where to find me if you need anything.'

You slowly back away. You turn and drag your feet to the door. You don't need anything but to be alone.

[invisibleicewands]

https://parade.com/tv/michael-sheen-a-very-royal-scandal-prince-andrew-interview

Michael Sheen Calls Royal Family ‘Running Soap Opera’: ‘We’re Kind of Fascinated and Obsessed By It All' (Exclusive)

When it comes to the British royal family, Michael Sheen has "complicated thoughts." 

"I suppose a mixture of things," the Welsh actor explains to Parade. "There was so much respect and admiration for the [late] Queen [Elizabeth] that she had devoted her life to the service of this country and did an amazing job. The royal family is an institution. When you think about the tourism it attracts and the position it plays."

To Sheen, having a "sort of figurehead" in the UK who isn't a politician also "makes a big difference." He says, "It sort of allows for a separation between certain things that maybe allows us to have a different kind of attitude towards our politicians here because a King or a Queen exists."

"So in the kind of ecosystem of our culture here, the royal family clearly plays a very important part, regardless of how you feel about issues of privilege and wealth and all that kind of stuff," Sheen adds.

The Frost/Nixon star stepped into the shoes of British royal family member Prince Andrew in Prime Video's new drama A Very Royal Scandal. The three-part series, which premieres September 19, is based on the Duke of York's infamous 2019 Newsnight interview with Emily Maitlis. 

"When it was shown on TV for the first time, I think, like everybody else who watched it, particularly in the UK, we were just gobsmacked," Sheen recalls. "It was hard to understand how what we just watched, how it could have happened. You know, how did that come to be? What were the circumstances that allowed what we just witnessed to happen? And, of course, our story is exactly that. It's about looking at what are those circumstances. How could a man of such power and privilege allow himself to be put into a situation voluntarily, where he is put under such scrutiny and made to be so accountable?"

From how he transformed into the Duke of York for the series to what he thinks of King Charles, continue reading for Parade's exclusive interview with A Very Royal Scandal's Michael Sheen.

I was blown away by your transformation into the Duke of York... What went into becoming Prince Andrew for this series?  Playing a member of the royal family is a challenge because, on the one hand, there's a lot out there about them, obviously. But it's usually very controlled and stage-managed. When there's public interactions, [it's] in a very controlled and organized way. And then, of course, there's a lot of gossip about what happens behind the scenes and that kind of stuff. The royal family is our longest-running soap opera in this country, so we're kind of fascinated and obsessed by it all. But it's quite hard to sift through the facts from the fiction, and that's just generally speaking with the royal family. When it comes to Prince Andrew, it's a bit like a hall of mirrors, particularly around the episodes, the issues that we're dealing with in this. At the heart of this story and at the heart of the character, for me, was a mystery. I don't know what he did or didn't do beyond a certain point. We know up to a certain point. We know about his relationship with this person and that person. He went to this place and this kind of stuff. But then beyond that, we don't know. 

And so, as an actor, I have to make choices. I need to know what my character did or didn't do in order to play the scenes. So I had to make choices. They were not necessarily reflective of what actually happened in real life. I don't know, but I had to make choices. I'm not going to say what those choices were because I don't want to affect how people watch it. That was a challenging aspect of it compared to other characters I've played based on real-life people. There wasn't that same element, kind of mystery and the unknowable there.

But I watched the interview itself, I mean, hundreds upon hundreds of times. And to begin with, of course, in order to get familiar with the interview, knowing that we're going to portray it. But as time went on, it started to kind of reveal things. The real minute details of it that you wouldn't necessarily notice watching it on TV for the first time, or even for the first few times. But when you've watched it hundreds of times and listened to it, you start to pick certain things up that were kind of hidden to you before, that became real clues to me to areas of him as a character that I could explore in the rest of the piece, not just in the interview. So that was really the heart of it, was that interview.

At what point when you first watched the interview were you like, "Oh, this is going south quickly?" I mean, I think the same as everybody else! When it was shown on TV for the first time, I think, like everybody else who watched it, particularly in the UK, we were just gobsmacked. It was hard to understand what we just watched, how it could have happened. How did that come to be? What were the circumstances that allowed what we just witnessed to happen? And, of course, our story is exactly that. It's about looking at what are those circumstances. How could a man of such power and privilege allow himself to be put into a situation voluntarily, where he is put under such scrutiny and made to be so accountable?

People just don't do that. People in those positions just throw money at something for it to go away and not deal with it, and never put themselves in that kind of vulnerable position. So, for me, the questions I had to ask were, what does it take for a man to think that's going to go well? And what does it take for a man to get to the end of it and think it did go well? And everybody else who [was] watching sees a car crash, sees an extraordinary thing. So that was very revealing in that he allowed himself to be in that position in the first place and felt that it had gone well afterward. That tells a whole story, or at least makes you start to ask questions about that person and their life and their circumstances that would allow for that. 

Did playing Andrew affect or change your perception of him in any way? Oh, it definitely did. Yes. It did. It had not really struck me before in the same way about the fact that, clearly, a big high point in his life was the Falklands War. It had a huge impact on him. I assumed that a royal would be put in this kind of safe place in a war. But he was right in the thick of it. He was in the action. He put himself in real danger. And so then to see him come back from the Falklands War, when he was a young man in uniform, having performed acts of courage, adored by women in the UK, and sort of worshiped almost, the tabloid frenzy around him, about his relationships and all that kind of stuff.

And then to see what has happened since then. Through a natural process, [he's] aged. He sort of lost those looks. He's got further and further away from the center of interest of the royal family as the "spare" as he's known, the brother who's not going to be king. The brother who is going to be king has more children, so he gets moved down the line. And I found that really interesting. That had never really struck me before. That for someone, from the outside, who seems to have so much, to have everything you could want, to get an understanding that from his point of view, he seems to be denied so much. He seems to have lost so much. And to be on the outside of things so much, that definitely changed my perception.

Have you heard anything from Andrew's circle, or from people with close ties to the royal family about your portrayal of [the Duke of York]? Well, obviously, it hasn't gone out yet. I haven't heard [anything]. I very much doubt whether I will. It's a very closed world that I would be very surprised if I did hear anything. It's always a strange thing to play a character based on a real person. You inevitably feel a responsibility towards that person. Even though I'm trying to portray something that is very much warts and all and very rounded and has complexity and all of that, you still can't help but feel a responsibility in the fact that you're portraying a real person who's gonna have real feelings about it, and their family and all the rest of it. The job I've done on it,  it's not going to please everyone. People will come at it with such preconceived ideas and opinions about a person. So, I don't know. But I just hope that people recognize it as a real human being.

You met the late Queen [Elizabeth] and received an OBE from her in 2009. When it was reported in 2020 that you had returned it, you spoke about getting to a time when there would be a sort of changing of the guard in the royal family. [This September marks] two years since the Queen's passing. I'm curious: What are your thoughts on the royal family today?  Well, I think, as we do as a nation here, have sort of complicated thoughts about it, really. I suppose a mixture of things. There was so much respect and admiration for the Queen, that she had devoted her life to the service of this country and did an amazing job. The royal family is an institution. When you think about the tourism it attracts and the position it plays. I think the fact that we have a sort of figurehead in our country that isn't a politician makes a big difference. It sort of allows for a separation between certain things that maybe allows us to have a different kind of attitude towards our politicians here, because a King or a Queen exists.

So in the kind of ecosystem of our culture here, the royal family clearly plays a very important part, regardless of how you feel about issues of privilege and wealth and all that kind of stuff. I think it was always going to be a challenge for someone to take over the mantle of the late Queen. But [King] Charles seems to be doing a very good job of that, and seems to be providing consistency in challenging times. He was always a man who, in the past, was quite free with his opinions. And I think people were worried about how that would work and whether that would have to change. But it seems like he's doing a very good job of that at the moment. 

Is there one member you haven't met who you'd be keen to meet in the future?  I would love to meet Princess Anne. She seems like such an amazing person, and funny and smart. She seems to handle that position very, very well. She seems to be one of the most charismatic of all the royals to me. So I would love to meet her.

[taki-yaki]

The Chains That Bind Us Part 2

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Word Count:1668 Part 1

After refusing the ascendant's gift of immortality, he seeks to keep you bound to him, even if a pact has to be made to do so. (Tw: Emotional Manipulation, Character Death, Angst/Dark fic, Slight comfort/Happy ending)

As requested here's part 2 to TCTBU, things do become a bit dark here. Message me if I've missed any TW tags.

Life within the palace wall is pleasant, Astarion does give you free rein to explore some of the rooms in the palace, such as the dining hall and library. Most halls are empty half the time, with the occasional spawn that would scutter back to the shadows as if they were scared to even glance at you.

However, leaving the palace to explore the city is different. The only time you are allowed to go outside is to fulfil another task that you have been assigned to do.

Your perception of time slowly starts to warp, and days seem to blur together, how long have you been with him, Weeks? Months? The only one you can speak to within these walls is him.

When he throws his lavish parties in the ballroom, he always ensures that you never leave his side, displaying you as a prized toy to show to others that the grand hero of Baldur's Gate has the honour to stand by his side. Even if they don't know the truth of why you do it.

Some warlocks carry binding marks upon their skin, although most choose to hide it and think nothing more of it. Astarion however is nothing but persistent in making sure your mark is visible for everyone to see, a twisted form of ownership to him.

Two small holes that form a bite mark an exact copy of the one mirrored on his neck. Every attempt at covering it up with clothing just leads it to reappear on another part of your body. Neck, wrist, leg, it doesn't matter, as long as others know who you belong to.

Some days when you arrive back from clearing out another vampire spawn camp, he would not let any of the other spawn lay their hand on your wounds, fearing that the sight of your blood would cause them to harm you. Only he is allowed to tend to them. 

Speaking to you with a soft tone, how he'll never hurt you, whispering sweet little words into your ear.

"My pretty little warlock, my little pet, I don't like seeing such doubt cast upon your face"

He would mutter whilst placing gentle kisses onto your scars, admiring the bite-shaped pact mark in your skin.

Over time, you feel more of your vampiric master's power seep into you, and wrinkles start to fade away from your skin. Your respiratory system struggles to fall into a natural rhythm as if the need for oxygen in your body isn't required anymore. Most food and drink leave a plain taste on your tongue, even as you coat it in salt, it all tastes the same to you, an ash after-taste.

One day he offers you an answer to the torment you go through,

"I can take this pain away if that's what you want, One little bite is all it would take"

"All the luxuries of living will be returned to you, just one drop is all it takes" A sly grin spreads across his face, fulfil aware of what he's put you through. 

You know that he wants to see, you degrading yourself in front of him on your knees for him, begging just like that night after the black mass.

When you receive any new spells or pact boons from him, he always leaves a note by your bed, treating it as a gift. 

The various pacts you wield also take on a visual change.

Pact of the blade weapons now carry a necrotic touch to them. When used, the mark they leave is one of ash and dust that spreads slowly across the body. 

Pact of the tome, when read, you hear the silent whispers of those who have fallen by your hand. A constant reminder of the ones slain in his name to make a clear path.

Pact of the chain familiars have a slightly ghostly hue to them, whilst imps and quasits bear the markings of Mephistopheles.

Most of the time when you were tasked to yet again crush another uprising in secret by hunters. You were always reminded by him with a voice in your head. 

"I will be watching. I am always watching."

You thought this was nothing but an empty threat although oddly comforting that he would care to watch over you during your jobs.

The devil's sight that he gifted you, had the benefit of seeing normally in both magical and non-magical darkness. It acted as a second pair of eyes to him.

One day, whilst silently sweeping through another reluctant attempt to kill your master by the Gur, you find a child cowering, scared, unable to do anything but watch. Pulled from your trance, you decided to spare the child, an innocent shouldn't be harmed because of what he ordered you to do.

Have you lost sense of yourself after so many merciless kills all in hopes of keeping you and your companions safe?

As you watch the child hurry off into the forest, pausing to think.

“How many people have fallen by your hand, all in the name of protecting those close to you?”

“Was it even worth it anymore?”

Deep down, you hope that the child won't take the path that leads to their death by challenging the vampire ascendant, they all lead to the same fate anyway.

Arriving back at the palace, instead of seeing him waiting, sat on his throne for all to see. He stood above you at the door staring down at your figure.

Quicking clutching your wrist in his hand, grip tightening.

“You let that thing get away, In my lifetime they would be fully grown within a blur and now they could come back READY TO KILL YOU!” Snapping at you.

Flinching up at his yelling, frozen, unsure what to even say. His face softens.

“I-I’m sorry my treasure, I shouldn’t have scared you so easily. You’ll forgive me right?”

“I adore you terribly so” in a gentle tone, whilst holding you softly in his arms.

Unsure of what to even say to him after that, exhaustion falls upon you, relaxing in his arms.

The only way he can't see through your eyes is through your spiritual projection. Projecting your spirit from your body, you could pass through the palace halls undetected by any of the spawn and him, all whilst your physical body was sound asleep.

Knowing that this is your only slither of hope for freedom from this place. You reach out to Gale, surely he would know what to do.

Upon arrival at Gale's tower in Waterdeep, thanks in part to hitching a ride upon the weave, he seems surprised to see you. It's almost as if he's looking at a ghost of you. You explain everything to him, the contract you signed, your life in the palace and what he has made of your former self.

"After the party, He told us that you wanted to stay with him. But for him to reduce yourself to this- this form" He states whilst waving his hands at your body.

He agrees to gather everyone to help free you from him. No matter the cost.

Sitting on the throne next to him, you see your former companions walk in, none pleased to see Astarion, some can’t even look you in the eye, shocked by what has become of you.

Astarion knows that they’re not here, to sit elegantly and chat. He knows they're here to kill him and take you away.

His voice echoes in your head, a true test of your loyalty to him, to see how much you fall for him. Even if deep down you still loved him.

"Pet, you love me don't you, you'll get rid of them for me yes? Just like the rest"

Rising from his throne, readying himself to strike them down without a second thought.

You pause, you can't, you won't let him take another life, not by your hand nor by his.

Rushing in front of your companions, taking the full force of his attack.

A cry pierces through the large throne room. Looking down, you see his claws piercing through your chest, while your blade runs through him staking his heart cleanly.

Silence fills the room, and time seemingly stops, until it is quickly broken by his voice.

"Y-you wretch" He chokes out before you both fall to your knees.

You gained your freedom, but your death is still done by his hand. Even if you gave in and became his spawn, he would have killed you anyway.

Looking into those eyes, you notice the dull tone has vanished from his eyes, a glimmer of the man he once was looks horrified at you. Thinking back to the day of the rite, wishing how things could have gone differently for both of you. Clutching your body tightly, losing too much blood to even turn you into spawn.

"Aeterna amantes. Lovers forever, until the world falls down." Is the last thing you hear, a weak whisper upon his lips, before your eyes close for the last time.

Many decades have passed since that day, and the palace has long since been destroyed, nothing but a pile of rubble to the winds of time.

Gale, now more grey-looking, was walking near sorcerous sundries, until a familiar sight caught his eye, a young Drow with white curls with tips of silver on the ends and piercing red eyes. Next to the Drow, a person who took your face but in a form entirely different from what you were many decades ago.

The two looked like young lovers, smiling as they talked to one another, full of life to any unexpecting bypassers, yet to those who knew your previous life, a familiar face best left untouched to the darkest of your past.

The two of you smiled as you soaked in the warm touch of the sun. Perhaps being bound to another isn’t bad after all. 

Your future is yet to be written, after all.

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

I really wanted to add this part in but didn’t want to ruin the overall flow so I’ve put it here as a sort of bonus piece.

In the depths of the nine hells, Astarion stood in front of the archdevil, Mephistopheles, a wisp clutched tightly to his chest.

Your wisp never attempted to pull away from his body, no signs of resistance although you could do so freely. Your spirit stuck close to his heart, even in death.

Begging the archdevil to bring the two of you back, he’d even give up the powers of the ascendant even his memories just to see you once again. No matter how long it takes nor what form the two of you will have.

The arch-devil hasn’t uttered a single word to you both but simply raises his fingers as a loud snap is heard and a flash of white follows. 

It was a bit of a challenge to write some comfort/hopeful ending for this. I also aimed for some of the lines to be read in the narrator's voice. But I'll be writing something light after this. Message me any suggestions you guys have.

[lostfirefly]

Trembling, crawling across my skin, feeling your cold dead eyes, stealing the life of mine (Ch.1)

This fanfiction story is my present for my friend @yujo-nishimura, whose birthday is today! Sending hugs from Russia and wish you a lot of Crocolove!

Two things inspired me to write this fic: One of my fav songs from which the title is taken and Elena and Damon's dance (from The Vampire Diaries, S1). My 1st attempt to write the story about this character.

Description: Yujo is a young girl whom her father has betrothed to Mr. 3. She and her sister come to the ball, where she meets one of the members of the Cross Guild Corporation Sir Crocodile.

Warnings: No warnings

Words: 1307

Sir Crocodile x OC

The title is taken from "Dance with the Devil" by Breaking Benjamin.

English is not my native language, errors may occur. As always, feel free to share your thoughts :)

Taglist: @gingernut1314

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"I can't believe we're going to the castle ball tonight!" A blonde girl with curly hair and brown eyes was bouncing happily on the bed.

"Helena, calm down," another girl with green eyes sitting by the dressing table answered her in a calm voice. She brushed her brown hair, occasionally glancing in the mirror. 

"I'm so impatient. We're going to see your fiancé, Mr. 3 again, Yujo! He's so cute!" Helena jumped off the bed, spinning around the bedroom. Her light white dress in small florals fluttered beautifully in the air. 

"I don't know. He doesn't seem like a bad person. Writes nice letters and courts quite non-trivially.", Yujo put her hairbrush down on the table, slowly stood up and walked over to the closet. "Stop spinning around, Helena. Our parents are expecting us for breakfast."

The day passed in preparation for the trip to the ball. After breakfast, Helena and Yujo strolled around the large summer garden and talked about many things. Helena could hardly contain her excitement for the evening, dreaming that she would be able to meet a wealthy young man at the ball.

"And I also heard that either all the members from Cross Guild Corporation are expected to attend, or at least just one. They're some kind of tycoons. I bet they're all handsome and young."

"I've never heard of them." replied Yujo calmly, gently running her hands along the branches of the trees. 

Finally the evening came and Yujo and Helena walked down the steps of their house down to the front entrance. It was a warm summer evening, and a large white carriage drawn by two red horses was waiting for them at the gate.

"Oh, my God! Ball, ball, ball, ball!" Helena ran up the stairs faster than anyone else. 

"You're incorrigible!" Yujo laughed as she watched her sister hop into the carriage. She lifted the hem of her mauve colored chiffon dress and sat down carefully next to her sister.

"What if Mr. 3 isn't coming alone? What if he brings someone cute?"

"Who? Mr. 2 or 4?" Yujo put her arm around her sister's shoulder. "Our parents are already there. For all I know, our father was going to discuss some kind of deal with Mr. Jinbe. And mom probably wants to gossip with everyone. 

It was already dark when they arrived at the gates of a large castle made of gray stone. 

"Here we are, here we are!" Helena jumped out of the carriage and adjusted the hem of her mint-colored dress. "Yujo, where are you?" 

"Coming!", Yujo stepped out of the carriage and looked at her sister. "Let's hurry up or you're going to die of impatience. Just please behave yourself."

They walked into a huge spacious hall. There were tables covered with white and gold tablecloths all around. A large crystal chandelier adorned the ceiling. The ladies were dressed in their best clothes, and the men were all in suits. 

There were whispers, negotiations, and girlish chuckles coming from various directions. 

"Good evening, Yujo, Helena!" a skinny man with a funny hairstyle in the shape of the number three, walked up to Yujo and kissed her hand. "It's nice to see you here. I brought you both some wine.”

“Thank you so much!” they both said in unison. 

"Say, Mr. 3, is it true that the owners of Cross Guild are expected to come?" Helena giggled and sipped her wine a little at a time.

"I don't know about the others, they seemed to have some pressing business, but one is definitely coming." said Mr. 3, looking around the room. "And why are you inquiring, Ms. Helena?"

"No reason..." Helena blushed. 

"I'll leave you ladies alone for a moment," Mr. 3 bowed and stepped aside.

"I heard there's a swordsman there and he's available, and he's pretty cute," Helena poked Yujo lightly in the shoulder. 

Suddenly all voices were briefly silenced and heavy footsteps were heard.

"Ladies, let me introduce the member of the cross guild, Sir Crocodile." Mr. 3 turned back to the girls. "This is Yujo, my fiancée. And this is her little sister Elena."

A tall man with purple hair and dark eyes stood before them. He had a coat thrown over his shoulders and a hook hand.instead of one arm. Yujo was surprised, but tried not to show it.  

“Nice to meet you,” Crocodile kissed the girls’ hands. “So young and so beautiful.”

Helena turned red as a lobster hearing these words. She lightly rubbed her sister’s hand. 

“You see? You see? The hook!” Helena whispered to her sister. Yujo lightly stepped on her sister's foot, silencing her.

“Excuse me, ladies. I have to speak with one man and I’ll come back to you,” Crocodile said calmly. 

“Woooow! He’s so.. So handsome.” Helena was so amazed by Crocodile that she seemed to forget how to breathe. “There seems to be another one there, but I don’t remember who. He must be somewhat unremarkable, since I don’t remember him. I wish I could see the swordsman. Who’s better, that guy with the hook or the swordsman? What do you think?” 

“I have no idea. Aren’t there other people there or what? In this Cross Guild,” Yujo quietly asked her sister, watching Crocodile out of the corner of her eye.

Helena shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve heard about these three.”

Yujo's father, a plump man of short stature with gray hair approached her with Mr. 3. They had a long discussion about the upcoming wedding ceremony, the guest list and the menu. Yujo found herself looking for Crocodile with her eyes the whole time. 

Finally the start of the ball was announced and Mr. 3 took Yujo's hand and led her to the center of the room. The girls had to stand in one line, the man in another. Yujo found herself in front of Crocodile. The music started. Everyone stepped towards each other, touching one palm to the palm of their partner's hand. Holding their palms side by side, they moved smoothly in a circle. After making a couple of circles, everyone put their second palm to the partner’s palm.

"Sorry you have to settle for a hook," Crocodile said dryly.

“That’s ok,” Yujo said and smiled. 

After making a couple more circles, everyone came closer to each other. The men put one hand on the girls' waists. Crocodile hugged Yujo with a hook. 

Finally the dance ended and everyone bowed to each other. At the same moment, Helena ran up to Yujo.

“God, the chemistry between you just killed me!”

"What?" Yujo asked. She felt as if her mind was clouded during the dance.

"I'm so jealous of you. I want it too! You should ask your Mr. 3 to introduce me to a swordsman!" Helena was almost jumping next to her sister.

“Will you calm down? We are at the ball after all. What if someone is looking at you now, and you are behaving inappropriately,” Yujo laughed, noticing how her sister pouted. Yujo looked around the hall and saw how Crocodile approached her father. They shook hands and started talking about something.

“Yujo, this is Mr. Magellan. He will marry us,” she was pulled out of her thoughts by Mr. 3, who approached her with a tall man, his face resembling a mandrill, with very sharp teeth and thick beard. 

“I have to admit, your bride is amazing, Mister 3. Can’t wait to perform your ceremony,” Magellan said and kissed Yujo’s hand. 

While the all-important potential guests were discussing the upcoming wedding, Yujo was catching more and more that she was thinking about Sir Crocodile. What was it? A charm after the dance? Or is it something else?

[gyaruguy111]

Beau is Afraid personal analysis:

From someone that can't put thoughts in order, is neurodivergen, and expects both nothing and everything from a film.

Just started watching Beau is Afraid and here's me just throwing interpretations and a shitty analysis into the void of Tumblr as I'm watching it!

It should be noted that the subtitles aren't working for me so a lot of the audio is hard to understand for me if I'm not absolutely invested. You should also expect some comparisons to Beau's life and mine since mommy issues don't wait for anyone besides the mother who throws them onto you!

In all honesty, I wanted to watch this movie when I first saw the poster but I have the habit of adding movies to my watchlist and then forgetting them if it isn't in my face 24/7 so it got benched. I finally picked it up because of Joaquin Phoenix and the fact that I wasn't mentally prepared for the Joker sequel. During the movie it did an amazing job of stopping my gawking at Joaquin to actually seeing Joaquin as Beau and being in the same room as Beau as if it were my own movie. Props to Ari Aster for making a mirror more than a movie.

Hour 1:

I obviously had to pause the movie while Beau was walking down the hall to the elevator. I really enjoy when people put small little details into media and even though a lot of it was hard to read I wasn't disappointed. It seemed that right off the bat dicks were going to be very important in the movie.

Beau's character was really relatable in the beginning in the sense that his anxiety is so persistent. There were a lot of people that commented on the pacing and scenes being confusing but from my POV it was a good representation of what living with anxiety is like. COMING BACK TO SAY THAT I WAS NOT READY! IT IS NOT JUST ANXIETY! IT IS LEARNED HELPLESSNESS AND SO MUCH MORE!

When Beau imagined a guy running into his apartment I felt the jump and shock just as much as him. It seemed strange that somehow all them people didn't walk inside of the store since it wasn't locked. The best I can take away from it right now although I might add things later is that the outside is just chaos really. I think it might have some to do with the feeling of the outside being so dangerous and the invasive thoughts of what could possibly happen to you when you even leave your apartment. You have one place in the world where everything while not particularly quiet and entirely peaceful is just enough to get away from the hustle and bustle and whatever terror comes with it. And having it invaded would turn anyone's day not just upside down but tossed over a cliff into a massive hole of "My fucking God what next?" and whatever curse words you can toss in with that sentiment.

When Beau missed the flight and had to break the news to his mom it really did feel like a call with my own mother. That silence where Beau is just seemingly waiting for a spur of disappointment to pass on from the other side of the phone. And not even at the situation but at Beau. Like for some reason Beau is the cause of it all and this isn't the first time he's been blamed or at the end of disappointment. And you can even hear it in his mom's voice so shout out to her actor for delivering those lines so wonderfully! Beau borderline pleasing with his mom for help and not getting any actual answer is beyond relatable. People are expected to somehow know where to go from somewhere in their own POV but when your POV doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight there's not a lot of help.

I tried to think about what the key missing could even mean if it possibly were supposed to be about how Beau feels internally and I'm coming face to face with the idea that while Beau wants to see his mom it might be that he struggles so much with reaching the middle of the bridge with the people he cares about along with an overwhelming fear of meeting with his mom in general. We can assume that something happened between them that makes the air so stiff. So maybe the key going missing and him missing his flight is himself trying to avoid whatever might come with going to see his mom in some way. It felt like self isolation. Like Beau wanted to be there but at the same time couldn't bring himself to do it and now he has to face his mom and apologize while also being too scared to apologize for not being able to open himself up enough to see her and let her see him.

Going back to the invasion of his apartment. If we imagine That this world in the beginning and his apartment is just what being in his head is like, that could also be a "Something's gotta give." moment where his fears and anxiety are racking up so high that his mind just lets the lock loose and all that noise starts flooding his head. Almost like when you get overstimulated and try to stop the outside world from coming inside but everything is just too much. I'm not good at explaining this so my bad.

Now moving on to finding out his mom has died. When you have anxiety and not only anxiety but OCD too it's like the smallest fear of something happening or you not doing something makes your fears come true. The idea that if you don't pick up a pencil you drop in the next five seconds a train will hit you at exactly five thirty-one in the evening on your way home even though there's no train tracks within a ten mile distance of you. I don't really know what to say about this part of the movie but his instant shut down and taking a bath with the figure that I'm guessing is some sort of comforting link he has to his mother is definitely what I'd do if I'd remembered that my tap was going and my mom is dead.

There's a point in the movie where Beau walks outside and there's some words behind him from at what point in the movie I don't know that say things like, 'pussy write letter' and 'pussy something whistle' and all that and I was confused by it but really did want to know if that meant someone's vag was writing a letter or if it was some sort of prosthetic you could buy I'm not sure but it was a hoot.

I can already see this being long and I'm not even halfway through the movie. Waking up in the gal's room was definitely something that made my head turn round I thought that maybe they'd bedazzled a hospital room or something. Beau looked pretty rough there so good healing to him throughout this movie. I took their behavior being weird and the dreamy feel as if Beau was craving some comfort and this is what he thought up to get it, which is so relatable. We can basically immediately interpret that Beau is a fill in for something the couple is missing AKA their son Nathan I believe was his name? For me this is so far the scariest part of the movie. And that's Beau being trapped. The actors do an amazing job of making you feel off in general. This feels like some pseudo family and the puzzle scene felt exactly like sitting down with my grandparents and having no idea what to do or what's even happening.

The way they treat what I think is their daughter compared to Beau is definitely a stark contrast. Reminded me of being a kid and wanting my mom to treat me the same as everyone else. Which was simply nice. The fact that they keep pushing him leaving back while he's begging for any way out is really the best representation of needing something NOW, not in the evening, not after a nice dinner and some good hosting, NOW. He's been guilted into believing that his mom's being insulted and humiliated and when he's doing what he can to stop it by leaving he's trapped and no one is giving him a way out of it. He can't even properly give himself a way out because he's been knocked into Saturn by a car and is currently healing from it. Anyways, an hour in and that's all I got.

Hour 2:

Okay that took an insane turn. The peer pressure carpool made me extremely uncomfortable and I honestly just wanted it to end since he kept saying no. The girls saying that they'd accuse him of that stuff put another edge into the situation when it already had plenty of sharp edges. In some way I see it as Beau somewhat needing a good puff but also not needing it. Does he need it or is he convincing himself that he does? Does he not need it or is it because his anxiety and suspicions are so implemented into him that he can't or won't? This scene was definitely good to watch if you need to tip of your blood pressure if it's low.

I knew it was going to cut to the boat when I heard the seagulls but what I expected to be a calm in this chaotic fucking movie turned out to be the exact opposite. This post isn't even interpretations anymore it's going to be me spiraling. Everyone did an amazing job atmosphere wise because what the fuck? Every interaction between young Beau and his mom just made me want to screw my face up so hard you could hammer it to a wall. I'm wondering if Beau recognized the woman that he cut back to in the video on his mom's death and I'm also wondering if this young gal is a positive, negative, or neutral. The scene where she counts down and what I'm guessing lead to a kiss got skipped because it just made me too uncomfortable.

I was immediately hit with what was the worst wham bam in the world. I saw those creepy people's daughter without a shirt and didn't want to go back but was hoping they'd explain and was let down completely with my brain in a twister. Most of it was me thinking "Dear God tell me nothing happened with this teen fucking girl." Don't know if anything did and will probably never know because I honestly wouldn't be able to take it.

By this point we see the mom's obvious want to tell Beau what the fuck is going down especially when we see Beau is being recorded and not only is he being recorded, as far as he knows this little remote could tell him his whole life. Both Beau and the daughter's crashout are completely understandable. The gal wasn't any bit kind to Beau but she was the break in reality. The screw that wouldn't nail in the hole right. And in some sense I feel like Beau definitely needed her interaction to realize something was very deeply wrong. The way he's holding an obvious doll is hilarious but I wonder if it's supposed to be the kink that the audience needs to realize that this isn't real. It's real in the sense that it's happening but everything Beau is going through isn't real. These interactions aren't spontaneous they're planned. And Beau is slowly realizing it bless his heart.

30 minutes later and I'm even more dumbstruck. I really love how when you're watching the play featuring Beau you almost get lost in the story too, seeing yourself walking in his shoes. And it supports the anxiety of it all. You could have a good life, you can have a wife and children and all things in between. All the happiness you want. But it's going to end. Something beyond your control is going to tear it away from you and you have so much life left to live. So much that you'll wonder if that happy beginning is worth the sad ending. I could have this, but I can't keep this. The part where Beau reunites with the children only to find out that his wife is still lost didn't ease it. Congratulations you've found three halves of your soul, where's the fourth? The idea that Beau wants to find family and some place that feels like home for him in a world where he doesn't belong comes up again. Beau wants that but has he opened his can up enough to let it in? To let it want him? There's a lot of him both being the one guilty and innocent. He's guilty of doing all of it in the first place, of having a family and knowing that they'll be ripped away. Of walking into that broken up town and having the audacity to get too involved by just standing there. And at the same time, he's innocent. Because why shouldn't he want a home? Why shouldn't he be standing in that town? The idea of him giving his last bit of change for one empty stomach moment of happiness is worth more to him than a stomach full of food. Personally I can't disagree, happiness can keep you full plenty. But it shows a lack of self preservation trying to just grasp the concept with what fingernails he hasn't chewed off out of paranoia. This explanation isn't good and I'm sure these aren't ideas worth quoting in the next Sherlock Holmes book but I just really loved how this simple robotic voice pulls you into a trance. It felt almost as if they were trying to get him to join their cult up until he snapped out of it and the play looked completely different!

Hour 3:

My jaw dropped and never stopped dropping. It felt like I was watching the tape from The Ring and it only closed when Beau's counselor came out of the what I assume was a bathroom smiling. That's really when the dread filled every nook and cranny of my mind.

When he found his childhood gal I couldn't stop staring and I wondered the same as Beau if it was even real at all. I kept pausing and reminding the part where she turns over in bed to turn a song on Spotify on to see what songs were displayed but it was too blurry for me to see and I eventually gave up after enough tit flashes. Throughout the rest of that sequence I was saying "Wow! Congrats buddy you're alive and you're okay!" only to be completely dumbfounded with my jaw open like a guppy when I realized everything was in fact not okay. The having hanky panky time in my dead mom's bed would throw me off but it makes sense when you realize he knew she wasn't actually dead.

When she revealed herself and started mentioning the times she felt that Beau didn't care enough it really did remind me of my relationship with my mother. I thought that maybe he might've given her the tape because he liked it so much or thought she did but after she said he just couldn't decide on things for himself I realized it was most likely because he really just didn't know what to get her and I definitely resonated with that. My mom expected me to understand what she wanted from the get go but I never knew what to get her for gifts or what to do when she was slowly judging towards an idea. I knew my mom but I didn't know what she wanted and it personally left me stuck in a ditch of guilt every time. Christmas was the worst simply because I didn't know what to come up with without her saying it to my face. I did end up finding something I think surprised her though, it was one of those zen sand gardens since her old one was busted. I think the relationship between Beau and his mom really hut you the worst when you realize she's right in some aspect. All of the people that were hurt because he was lost and even worse, afraid. But how can you trust that? From the woman that manipulated him into believing that she died? From the woman who's been watching him as close as when he picks his nose and from what nostril? And was it really Beau? Considering the fact that most of the interactions haven't been genuine and the pure trauma of it all, was it him or was it the dog that ran him into the fence? Really I don't even know what I'm saying anymore it's just pure rambling.

The final straw was the audio recording of his session. Of him speaking to a man he believed he could trust and saying how isolating it all felt. To be stuck with a mom that was pulling on both of your arms left when you wanted to take just one step right your own way. Of being guilted by your parent and or parents into believing that you didn't love them enough or that you were ungrateful because you simply didn't want to do exactly what they wanted you to. I definitely related to that, my mom would revoke my invitation to join my family when they went out to eat simply because my hair wasn't done how she wanted it to be done and would shame me for my own lack of decision making and control over my life. Beau does lack decision making but it didn't seem like his mom actually tried to help, she just waterlogged off to the side and expected him to when he was wrong no matter what if it wasn't what she expected. I really don't know what to say, his mom deserved a happy childhood and she's valid in wanting her son's love but he didn't have to give it to her how she wanted him to and he also deserved a good childhood. I'm waiting for the cherry on top in the attic so we'll see what happens next.

It's over. This T fuck face of a rex movie is over. Beau's dad literally being a massive dick is what I assume some representation of Beau not being able to see his dad as a person. His father wasn't around, he only knew him as the cock that impregnated his mom and made his pops croak in the same breath because of how God damn cursed it was. In the somewhat accurate words of Tyler the Creator, he was considered a sperm donor. The small man up against a dude with a fucking mic on a large platform was obviously Beau supposed to be Beau's grievances being ignored and quieted because of how wrong his mom made him feel for every inconvenience she experienced. And killing him was what to me meant silencing Beau once and for all. To kill the thing that allowed him the smallest but of self comfort. And all that's left was to kill Beau. I'd like for a happier ending but I feel like Beau's death did make a lot of sense. You listen to prolonged mental abuse like that and in the end again, "Something's gotta give." Beau died feeling guilted and betrayed, begging his mom for help and assistance the same as he did throughout his life only to be ignored by not only her but everyone that was convinced along with her that he was the bad guy one last time. You die that way. Feeling guilty for something no matter what.

I don't really know what to say, this was a wonderful movie and it was the most immersive movie I've seen besides the fact I wasn't in the studio to actually walk the set. I loved the practical giant dick and the slow decent into terror instead of dick jokes. Patti LuPone really took Beau's mom as a character to another level and Joaquin Phoenix is a hard man not to hug at the end of most of his movies. Thanks for reading this if you actually for some reason took the time out of your day to do it. I hope I never forget this movie and if I do I'll buy a bird to squawk it to me every few days.

See y'all sometime if anytime!

[braveclementine]

Chapter 6

Warnings: None, Readers under 18 can read this book. It is solely fluff- nothing sexual

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

.❤️.

𝕴 𝖜𝖔𝖐𝖊 𝖚𝖕 early the next day and snuck out of the common room to the great hall. There weren't many people there, mostly teachers and a few early bird first-years. I grabbed a piece of bacon and carried it up to the Owlery.

I fed Sadie the piece of bacon and tied the letter to her legs. I kissed the top of her head, carrying her over to the window. "Safe flight." I murmured to her. She hooted softly, nibbled my ear, and then took off into the early dawn.

Then, I hurried back to the Great Hall for my own breakfast. I ate as Professor Sprout started to hand out Hufflepuff schedules.

Monday: Herbology and Charms Tuesday: Defense against the dark arts, double Potions and Transfiguration Wednesday: astronomy at midnight, History of magic and Herbology in the afternoon Thursday: Transfiguration, double Charms, and Defense Against the Dark arts Friday: double History of Magic, Potions, astronomy at midnight, and Herbology with a free period in the afternoon. Saturdays and Sundays were days off to work on other things, although teachers could hold bonus classes on those days if need be.

So, I hurried back to my dormitory to grab my Herbology and Charms textbooks, wand, and dragonhide gloves. I put all of them in a new leather bag that I had bought in Diagon Alley this summer. I slung it over my shoulder and checked my appearance in the small mirror.

I hesitated, looking at how childish my face looked with the round glasses on. Granted, I was eleven but. . .it also made my cheeks look rather round- and I wasn't fat. I took them off, putting them in the glasses case, putting it in the bottom drawer of the bedside dresser. Only if I really needed them would I wear them.

I walked down with the other first-year Hufflepuffs down to the greenhouses where we were naturally paired with the house I was trying to avoid: Gryffindor. Hermione waved and came over to join me, leaving Ronald and Harry to talk amongst their selves.

"It's so exciting, isn't it?" She asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

I nodded glumly. "Extremely."

I avoided looking at Harry and kept opening my Herbology textbook to random pages, reading the information on them. We were going to be in Greenhouse 1 which was the Greenhouse with the least dangerous plants.

Hermione was describing the Gryffindor common room and I blocked out the information. Knowing that I would've been in Gryffindor was still a little to fresh to think about it nonchalantly.

I described the Hufflepuff common room to her when she was done, going into great detail about the furniture and the types of wood that were used. We walked into the Greenhouse where Professor Sprout was waiting for us.

Hermione and I stood next to each other, the dividing line between the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors who had clustered comfortably with their houses.

We went over the beginning stuff first: safety, rules, and basic planting techniques. Hermione and I constantly kept answering Professor Sprout's questions. We seemed to be the only ones who knew anything. Ronald just stared at us with open mouths. It was like a competition between the two of us, who could get more house points. I was glad to finally have an equal. It would've been somewhat awkward if I was the only one who could answer questions.

After Herbology, we went our separate ways.

The next day at breakfast, Sadie came back with a letter in her beak. I offered her a plate of my food and she helped herself to some bacon again. I stroked her head while reading the letter, and then let her fly off to the owlery when she was done.

Dear Elizabeth, Congratulations on making Hufflepuff. Honestly, I couldn't care less what house you're in as long as you keep your grades up. But let us talk about the more serious things. These futuristic visions your having could potentially be useful, but I don't want you to get distracted by them. Obviously, if the sorting hat thinks that being in any other house is dangerous, you should keep your head down. Blend in with the crowd, don't draw attention to yourself. I can't imagine that you could be in any danger at Hogwarts but if there is some sort of danger, stay away from it. (Though, you're a good girl so I doubt you'll get into any danger or trouble). I'm sorry that you made the decision not to tell Harry who you are, but I suppose for now, it really is the correct decision. Perhaps once you understand more about what is happening, you'll be able to tell him. I don't particularly know why you are having visions of Severus in general. I will say that we went to school together. He was good friends with your mum, but she broke off their friendship in their sixth year. Snape and James hated each other with a passion since they met on the train. When he went to school with us, he was well known for hanging out with friends who became Death Eaters and also had a knack for the Dark Arts. But don't worry, he's not a danger. Dumbledore trusts him and so it's rational to trust anyone Dumbledore trusts. He doesn't make mistakes. Remember that if you are ever in any trouble. I'm proud of you, I hope you know that. I wouldn't worry too much either about anything. You can always write to me about your problems- and I want to know about them too. Remember, keep your head down and stay quiet about these visions until you know more. Much love, Dad

I read over the section about Professor Snape multiple times. He had been 'great friends' with my mum. That could explain the vision that I'd seen of them getting married. But if they weren't friends when they left school and mum had married dad instead...then when had they gotten married? Had they divorced? Had it been over something about the Dark Arts? But surely dad would've told me if something like that had happened.

I stuffed the letter in my bag and hurried to Defense Against the Dark Arts. This class was taken with the Slytherins and we mostly left each other alone. Professor Quirrell knew what he was talking about most of the time but I would've liked a better teacher. He had a horrible stutter and the classroom smelled disgusting.

I often held a cloth up to my nose discreetly, pretending to be leaning on my arm while writing, to block out the smell.

Of course, I paid attention. As the days went on, I grew more and more wary of Professor Quirrell and took up a liking with Professor Snape. Actually, I liked nearly all of my teachers and classes. The only class I didn't particularly like was Astronomy. Actually, if it wasn't for the fact that I wanted top grades in every class, I wouldn't have paid attention in the class.

But honestly! Try keeping track of planets and their moons and their moons moons. Not to mention when they collided and what happens when they collided or rotated or whatever the hell the other terms were! It was a horrible class. Not to mention that it would dip into other topics. Moon phases reacting with different potion cauldrons. Different plants. Sun and silver, moon and gold. It was way to confusing and complicated and should not have been a bloody required class. Should've been optional. But maybe they thought no one would take it. . .they'd probably be right.

History of magic was one of my favorite classes, although the teacher could've been more interesting. But Goblin rebellions and the creation of Wizarding Villages and different magical schools in every country were fascinating to learn about. I mostly read out of my textbook to understand what Professor Binns was talking about. Even I found it hard to pay attention when everything was read in a monotone voice.

Hermione and I studied together a lot. She was also finding that making friends was much harder than she had thought. This, I couldn't comment on as I was on good terms with all the Hufflepuffs my age. Though, admittedly, I wasn't sure I could call any of them 'friends'. Acquaintances was more accurate.

"They think I'm a know it all." Hermione said sadly in the library one afternoon as we worked on easy History of Magic homework. She'd paused, her quill hesitating over a finishing sentence for her seventh paragraph. "All I want to do is get grades, why is that such a bad thing?"

"You're not in the right house." I said matter of factly, though her words resonated with me. I too paused, looking over my sixth paragraph's details. "Didn't you say that the sorting hat was thinking about putting you in Ravenclaw?"

"Yes." Hermione said, writing the sentence with a flourish. "Do you think I would've done better there?"

"Perhaps." I said, not looking at her. "They would've all been eager to learn, just like you. But I think you're being to hard on yourself. I'd say sometime after Halloween, you're going to make some really good friends."

Indeed, I had seen a flash of Hermione solidifying a friendship with Harry and Ronald, I just wasn't sure how yet. I wish I could be just as sure about whether or not I was going to make friends with them as well.

"What a strange prediction." Hermione said, more to herself than to me. I flushed, bending my head over my essay. We spent the rest of the afternoon working on our homework in silence unless we wanted to comment on something that had to do with the essay.

When I wasn't in class or the library, I was outside on the grounds. I had made good friends with Hagrid and I helped him out with this work. He was the gamekeeper and he took care of the grounds (obviously). There were lots of magical creatures that he cared for in the Forbidden forest, and I liked to help him with such things.

Hagrid also introduced me to the centaurs, kind, but strange beasts. Sometimes I went into the forest on my own and the centaurs would talk to me. If I went at night, something I did at least twice a week, they would show me the stars and planets and tell me what they meant. It helped me understand Astronomy more in any case.

My favorite centaur's name was Firenze (but of course, I never said he was my favorite because then it would be like picking out your favorite horse or rabbit or owl, and centaurs were not animals). He was the kindest one though, and was more than willing to share with me the secrets of the planets. He was a very good teacher.

Really, the forest wasn't really as dangerous as people said. Sure, there were dangerous creatures in there, but I didn't bother them, and they didn't bother me, and I was sure that as long as I stayed with the Centaurs or high up in the trees I'd be fine. And that's what I did.

Everyone says that the forest is dark and scary with the trees growing close together until you feel that you're suffocating. Well, maybe in some parts of the forest. But in the places I travel, there trees are tall and beautiful. There are small and large clearings filled with flowers of every species and color. There are rivers and streams in there, though almost no one knows where they are except Hagrid and the Centaurs. It was the Centaurs who showed me the streams in the first place. In other words, the forest wasn't scary at all but rather, it was beautiful and unique.

Between the centaurs, Hagrid, doing extra things for my classes outside of my classes, and studying the library, I didn't have time for normal things like eating or talking to friends. Hermione was the only person that I talked to, unless I said hello to the Hufflepuffs in the morning before running down to the Great Hall.

There were so many things to do to make sure that I understood every subject. Even though Herbology was three times a week, you still had to come down almost every day to check on the plants we'd planted, and make sure they were surviving. There was research to do for History of Magic that wasn't always in the textbooks. I'd asked Professor Flitwick for extra tutoring lessons on harder spells. I'd asked Professor McGonagall as well but she claimed I had enough on my plate and that I could certainly work at the pace of the other students.

I also asked Professor Snape for extra lessons which he said I didn't need. Apparently, I was his best potioneer in his class. This surprised me as the only people he'd ever given compliments to were the Slytherins. Perhaps he only complimented me to avoid giving me lessons. But that didn't really seem like a Snape tactic. Rudeness was more of his thing.

I also started writing to dad less and less. I just couldn't find the time. I think I worried him because he started writing to me twice as much. To make up for all the time I'd missed, I stayed up late after a night in the forest to write him an extremely long letter about everything I had been doing.

The visions were also distracting, popping up at random moments. I tried not to pay to much attention to them. But there was this mirror that kept popping up a lot in my visions, and I decided that I was going to have to try and find it. Maybe finding what my visions were showing me would help stop the visions from appearing.

We reached October 13 and I went looking for the mirror instead of going to dinner. I tried to tap into the memories and see if I could find a direct path to the room where the mirror was situated. It worked for a little bit but I ended getting lost when I couldn't hold onto the memory anymore.

Professor Flitwick found me wandering around and helped me back to the great hall where everyone had just started dessert. I thanked him before going to sit next to Susan and ate some dessert while drawing the mirror absentmindedly on a piece of spare parchment.

"That's pretty." Susan commented and I looked up.

"Hmm?" I asked stupidly, lowering my spoon with brownie and vanilla ice cream on it.

Susan jabbed her pointer finger at the parchment. "That's a pretty mirror."

"Oh!" I said, blushing. "Thank you."

Susan grinned at me and then turned to talk to Hannah again. I stared down at the detailed mirror and then folded the parchment up, stuffing it under a napkin. I finished the brownie and ice-cream and went back to the library to finish some Potions homework.

Looking for the mirror became something new to add to my already full to-do list. Then, once flying lessons started, I had a completely different vision- Thank Merlin.

I was eating breakfast in the Great Hall and my vision went black. I could tell I was still sitting up and I could hear everyone talking. I sat perfectly still as I watched Draco pick something off the ground and Harry confronted him. They flew up on their brooms.

"Give it here," Harry called angrily, gripping the broomstick tightly between his hands, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" Draco sneered, though he looked worried.

Harry shot forward , towards him, and Draco made a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding Harry's arms. Harry made a sharp turn as well. People were clapping below them. Slytherins and Gryffindors. Hermione had a haughty look on her face, her arms crossed.

The vision jumped and I saw Harry diving on the broom and caught the thing Draco had taken in his hand.

Professor McGonagall was leading him through a corridor now. Oh, he had made the Quidditch team, he was going to be playing seeker.

The vision faded and I was back in the Great Hall. I looked over at the Gryffindor table. Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing around Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville. A Remembrall, that's what Draco had taken from Neville. I stood up and walked over to the table. The smoke in the ball was red.

"Hello Elizabeth." Hermione beamed up at me. "Neville's got a Remembrall."

I smiled back at her and turned my attention to Neville. He was frowning at the Remembrall, trying to remember what he had forgotten. "Neville, you've forgotten to put on your robes." I said, pointing out the fact he was only wearing his vest and white shirt.

He looked down and gave me a quick thanks before he headed out of the Great Hall. Presumably to the Gryffindor common room where he would get his robes.

"Are you flying today?" Harry asked me, looking up from his plate of bacon and eggs. We were on a first-name basis, but not friends yet. I was going to take it slow, I wasn't going to force my friendship on him. Still, it rather hurt that we weren't as close as I would've liked. I forced myself to smile gently.

"No, tomorrow." I said promptly. "Also, good luck on flying today, I know you'll do wonderfully."

I walked away to head to the Transfiguration classroom. I'd look for the mirror again during lunch. In Transfiguration, we were turning smoke into daggers, something that very difficult because smoke and daggers were two different states of matter.

Magic is much harder than people realize, even magical children. You don't just wave a wand and say words. There's other components like willpower and concentration. Both of these characteristics are extremely important as you can't cast a proper spell without them. Willpower was how badly you wanted the wand to happen but only in correlation with concentration. You couldn't think of other things or be distracted while trying to cast a spell.

There were four different types of Transfiguration- in Transformations at least: Inanimate to inanimate (matchstick to needle), Inanimate to animate (teapot into a turtle), animate to inanimate (beetle into button), and animate to animate (frog into a porcupine). Needless to say, inanimate to animate and animate to animate were the hardest types of Transfiguration.

The actual four categories under Transfiguration were: Vanishment, Transformation, Conjurations, and Untransfiguration.

At the moment, Professor McGonagall was looking out the window, taking a pause from grading homework papers on her desk.

Here it comes, I thought randomly. I leaned my head to left and watched Harry dive downwards, but he was soon out of sight. Professor McGonagall quickly got to her feet, peering out of the window.

A moment later, Professor McGonagall told the rest of us to stop our transformations and that she would be right back. She rushed from the room. I sighed, laying aside my wand and pulling out my Transfiguration textbook to read for fun.

There was another flash in my head. "Wood, I've found you a seeker."

I sighed again, and Ernie sent me a patronizing look. I set the book aside and laid my head down on the desk. Everything was happening so fast. So much homework, so much studying. What was I going to cut out? The Centaurs were so interesting, Hagrid was so incredibly nice. If I could just find the bloody mirror, that would be something to check off my list. At least Hermione was my only friend- I didn't have to try and spend time with anyone else.

But I liked spending time alone- I had found that out. I had more time to draw, read, study, explore, do magic, and learn. Sometimes, I thought I was better off without friends because I seemed to get some much more downtime without them. But there were other times that I did wish there was someone that I could share my experiences with.

I'd have loved to have explored the Forbidden Forest with someone, to share the experience with someone, but Hermione didn't like breaking the rules- at all. I had mentioned going into the forest once and she had given me a twenty minute lecture about what would happen if we were killed, or worse- expelled.

I concentrated, tracing a route from the library until finally, I found the passageway that led me to the mirror. The bell rang and I jumped up from my seat, dashing out of the classroom. I hurried down the hallway to the library and then, pulling up the image in my head again, traced my way down stairs and around corners until I reached a large, closed door.

I pushed it open and shut it behind me. The room was vacant. Unused desks were pushed up against the walls, collecting dust. There was a chalkboard in the front of the room and in the back, was the mirror.

I dropped my bag by the door and walked towards the mirror slowly. Before I reached it, I saw multiple images.

Harry was standing before it, seeing generations of family members. Our parents, a baby girl in our parents arms, our grandparents, our great-grandparents, our aunts, our uncles, and so on. I realized with a jolt that the baby girl was probably me.

Ron was standing in front of the mirror. He was Quidditch Captain, Prefect, and Head boy. Everything he could be to outshine his brothers.

Dumbledore was standing in front of the mirror. His arm was around a young girl and a boy- his brother- was standing next to him.

A younger Snape was standing in front of the mirror, seeing himself marrying Lily. But there was something different about her eyes than the other vision I had seen.

Now an older Snape was standing in the mirror. He was watching Lily and James and baby Harry sitting on a floor, laughing and playing. He was kneeling by the mirror, his legs sprawled out to the sides, resting his forehead and his hand on the mirror. His forehead rested about the babies head. His hand rested where Lily's hand was.

Tears welled up in my eyes, and not because I wasn't in the picture. He had loved mum so much that after she died, he wished that even his enemy, James, was still alive so that she could be alive too.

The visions slowly dissipated and I wiped my eyes, and continued forward. I wondered what I would see in the Mirror of Erised. But I almost knew what I was going to see. After all, it was what I had desired for years and years.

Standing in the direct middle, I expected to see myself creating a werewolf cure potion. Instead, Harry was in the mirror, his arm slung over my shoulder. Sirius was standing behind the two of us, one hand on both of our shoulders. Lupin stood to the side, smiling. He didn't look sick anymore. Mum and Dad were standing to the left, holding hands.

I closed my eyes. Why had I come seeking this mirror? It did not show what I wanted it to show and it had served no purpose except bringing more visions and more questions. What was the purpose of standing here before this mirror?

I looked into Mum's green eyes. They were Harry's eyes. Or maybe it was that Harry's eyes were her eyes. And Lupin was right too, my eyes were the same shade as James'. But looking at the mirror now, I did not think that I looked like Lily, no. My hair was not as vibrant red as hers, but rather more like Lupins'- red-brown.

But really, wasn't it what I wanted to see after all? Lupin didn't look sick anymore and his hair was fuller and he wasn't as thin as he had been- though he was still no where near close to fat. Just fit. And that was what I wanted, wasn't it?

I heard words in my ears. "Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible."

I turned my back on the Mirror and walked away. It was not possible. There were simply facts in life. My parents were dead, Sirius was in Azkaban, my father would never be healthy, and Harry would never know that I was his sister.

⬅️➡️

[housedeaubemarle]

FFXIV Write 2024 #30: Two Heads are Better than One

~~

Six summers ago, at a particular soiree:

“Those’re the Aubemarle twins then?”

“Hah! Sooner call Dzemael and Haillenarte twins than those two. Not saying you have to be mirrors of each other but the colouring could stand to be more consistent.”

“Characters are none like too - one's running round Ishgard probably fathering a million bastards, the other's got legs crossed so tight it gives me a headache to look at her.”

“You sure ‘bout that last one? The way they hover round each other, she might well have opened them up for brother dearest-”

“Whhsst, not so loud, you idiot.”

Across the hall, one half of the Aubemarle twins fans herself gently, making sure her pleasant smile isn't obscured in any way as she does so. Half an eye is kept on one of the gentlemen conversing some distance from her, his grins and laughter not subtle to those who'd had the displeasure of his company. Which she'd experienced, just a sennight before when she'd accompanied the viscount to a meeting at House Dzemael.

She turns her head to the young man who comes up to her, and hands her a glass of punch. In his other hand is a similar glass. “Gaspard de Nogelois and his ilk were so busy repeating the most ludicrous rumours about us, he didn't even notice who was walking behind them.”

She accepts the drink, turning her eyes towards him, ever smiling. “Hardly surprising considering how Lord Nogelois embarrassed himself in the meeting with Papa, right before Count Tarreson. I doubt the younger Nogelois would be in much of a charitable mood.”

Her brother grins slightly. “You don't think our father did the embarrassing?”

A twinkle steals into her grey eyes at that. “Our father? Embarrass the house who claimed they couldn't possibly spare anymore gil to fortify the Congregation, yet commissioned a new wing to their manor? He would never be so gauche.”

He chuckles. “No, of course not.” He sips the punch and keeps smiling. “You know, Dine, allusions are one thing, but to be so direct is surely worth some form of response.”

She raises an eyebrow. “No brawling, no slander. Mamma will never forgive you for such mortification.”

“She would never forgive us for letting this go unanswered either.”

She lets out a breath. That much is also true; neither of their parents are in attendance tonight (hence her brother's uncommon appearance) which means it is left to them to decide their next course of action. “What did you have in mind?”

He grins widely at her. “I think we should redouble our mingling – Lady Gaelle and her posse have been hinting at me for a conversation, so I’ll head over and lament the ill treatment of my virtuous, upstanding sister. I’m sure the ladies will be more than happy to be loudly sympathetic if I exert myself enough. Perhaps you might like to wander in Lord Paulecrain’s direction; I hear he’s curious about the meeting but hasn’t been told much. Such pearls of wisdom that fall from your lips are bound to be taken more seriously. And repeated more often.”

She throws him a very sharp look, then shakes her head. “If Lady Gaelle’s husband calls you out, I will refuse to intervene, so I warn you, Rem. Within reason please; these tactics lose their potency if we use them too often.”

“Yes, but they also should be used when reason demands it,” he replies with his own meaningful look. 

The siblings share a silent exchange – almost an argument – before Oudine snorts, dropping the look she's aimed at him. “Very well.”

With a grin, Remont raises his glass in her direction. His sister duly clinks hers against it. “To triumph, my twin.”

“In totality, my twin.”

They each take a swig, then neatly depart, one to the left, the other to the right, off to set the ballroom (socially) alight.

-

end.

[loonela]

I'm currently behind on typing up my current progress on Mirror Souls so I decided to write an alt POV! Life's been really shitty lol and I gotta take it out on fictional characters.

I took issue with Itadori's willingness to go along with the prank on Kugisaki and Fushiguro. That's the only point in S1 I wish didn't happen because it felt OOC. So like any good writer in denial, I'm changing it. Plus, daemons change A Lot! I want to bring out the emotional intelligence Itadori shows from the start. He does what he feels is right, and he's perceptive of when people aren't being truthful to him. He just needs his experience and wisdom to catch up. His teacher, in comparison, hides behind walls higher than China's. How does it feel to be perceived past those walls? How does Gojo navigate the tendency for daemons to reveal more than what is wanted? They're questions that Gojo can't even answer himself despite me being nice and giving him better mental health than canon.

So, I've been writing the alt POV of Gojo facing Itadori's death in the Curse Womb arc. I don't think it'll be in his POV, and I may never end up posting this in full, but I like sharing snippets and I like yapping about my writing. This is just after Itadori dies and the other first years return to Jujutsu Tech.

Some references of note:

Getou is still alive. SaShiSu my beloved.

Yonezawa Kiho (OC), is an upperclassmen of Gojo Gojo was stated to be overseas rescuing a grade 1 sorcerer, implied to be dead. Kiho is that sorcerer. She's touted as the next Kusakabe in New Shadow Style, focusing on polearms.

Gojo and Hakushin have a pretty mangled bond. It's not broken, but heavy damage was done at some point.

Shoko typically heals daemons either by forming a bridge or Shinobu directly heals them. If the damage isn't severe, Shinobu usually heals.

My interpretation of Six Eyes has them as metaphorical, but Gojo can send individual Eyes out on specific areas. They also have a presence that can be detected if he's not careful. Normally, he keeps an Eye on Shoko for both of their sake.

Shoko's RCT is vastly expanded on. She can read positive energy feedback, and her energy levels are hard to see because she's constantly converting cursed -> positive. There's more too.

Sorcerers can "share" energy with each other in some cases.

Hakushin paces between Satoru's legs, agitation working its way through both of them until he's almost choking in their cursed energy. Their shared energy toes the boundary of tolerable and suffocating even without failure choking him. Itadori Yuuji, dead because of hasty measures taken. Because someone targeted Kiho and he has to keep her alive both for his own selfish reasons and because she is good and kind and a force of change where Satoru can't reach. Because a mission to send three first years into a curse womb is completely within the moral lines that the higher ups are willing to jump like a fucking skip rope, because they dislike Satoru and the easiest way to him now is either Shoko or his students. Because he isn't enough, never has been, and never will be

"I'll tell Shoko you're thinking that way," his soul presses into him more, and Satoru stiffens in response, withdrawing Six Eyes into himself. "We both know it's the higher ups that want these children dead that have sole responsibility for this." Right.

"They targeted Megumi and Kugisaki too, right?" another voice chimes in. Hakushin stoops to greet Shinobu, even as the other daemon avoids the touch and just returns with a head bob. "I healed Kugisaki's daemon first, she will be here soon. Don't want to accidentally surge by touching you, sorry Hakushin." 

"Will she need my energy?" It's pure habit that has Satoru asking the question, the most careful extension of Hakushin's energy that he's ever felt weaving over to Shoko just down the hall. For all that Six Eyes gifted him and him alone, not his soul, he's never been able to sense Shoko's true energy, just like he can't sense her mother and grandmother's. He's forced to ping her the same way she does him, just much more clumsily.

"She should be okay, but you know us. Just like we know you." Shinobu turns his eyes on Satoru especially, and he thanks the blindfold for hiding his vulnerabilities. "Come down to earth, you two." 

"Already here, Shinobu. No need to worry."

The door flies open, the click of heels following. "We do anyways."

[psi-scribe]

So I completely forgot to post about last week’s DnD session which is a shame becuz wow, a lot happened.

I completely forgot to mention that one us nearly died fighting a young wyvern (Yay for our first encounter?).

But hey! We got half of our payment up front and the Governor and his lady friend (Lady Chasity) are giving off vibes and they are not good. They did ask us to stay the night before we headed out which was nice. We got more info as well (World lore and the fact the settlement is 3 days away with mounts, so we need those.)

And then the weird stuff happens.

We all get dreams, each different and guess who got the nightmare? Nothing like vague sleep paralysis; hearing whispers, seeing the door open and a hand come out of the mirror in my room (Hey thanks I hate it.) Freaky thing is that my character was sure that the door was shut when she went to bed. It wasn’t when she woke up. (Haha I’m in danger).

We woke up and prepared for the journey, aka we got 2 horses and a pony. I named my Daybreak and apparently my character has some background with animals. Might try and expand that in her background.

The journey to the settlement was mostly mundane aside from a storm and managing to avoid an encounter with some dire wolves. Then...we found a shard...of a ship...a warship. A warship that belonged to an Archdevil. My character touched the shard got a vision of war and heard a voice say “Be careful with what you play with, little girl.” (*Quiet sobbing*)

Things got quiet from there until we come across a cobblestone path and just ahead of it, several big bright tents and a sign saying, “Welcome to the carnival.” And that was where we ended.

Today’s session was shorter and waayyy more relaxed. We got into the carnival after stabling our mounts with the...petting zoo keeper (Sus) and making a contract making sure we’d get our mounts back (Cuz sus). Got in and decided to play a few games before trying to figure out what is going on. My character didn’t get an owlbear plushie despite 6 tries qwq.

We ended the session going into a place called The Hall Of Horrors...so that’ll be fun.

[call-me-copycat]

Hi so I wondering if you could do a tiny little drabble where katsuki finds the reader crying in the shower after a rough day? I haven't had a good day, but if you can't that's fine!

Hello! I'm very sorry you're having a rough day, I've been going through something similar as well (hence why I couldn't finish the Dadzawa Father's Day event), but as soon as I saw your request I knew I wanted to start writing it

I hope it gets better for you! I apologize if it isn't my best, it's a little late where I am, but regardless I did try ＿✍︎(・𖥦・ )ﾎｳﾎｳ

You're Not Alone

➤ Welcome - Links to all my masterlists, rules for requests, and some info about me

▶ [CHARACTERS]: Bakugo x Reader (no romantic nor platonic relationship determined + Gender is also unstated)

▶ [GENRE]: Hurt/Comfort

▶ [SUMMARY]: Just as the request states, Bakugo hears reader crying in the shower and offers some words of comfort

▶ [WORD COUNT]: 1251 (Small for me >⁠.⁠<)

▶ [WARNINGS/NOTES]:

- No warnings

- The only note I have is this one is very vague since I didn't want to assume anything, so I'm sorry if it appears to be a little confusing to anyone

It was all too much... The weight of it all pressing down on your chest as you tried to keep the heavy thoughts at bay.

You just wanted it to be better... For it all to stop being so tough to overcome. You didn't know why it all had to be so difficult, did life have a personal grudge against you or something of the sort?

Whatever it was had eventually drained all of the fight from you, leaving an empty, numb feeling radiating throughout your whole being. Normally it wasn't like this. You supposed it all just built up, it all exploding eventually as you tried to hold back the rushing waters in the dam that housed your thoughts. It crumbled, and once they made their way through there was no holding it back anymore.

The dam broke, and just as the thoughts coursed through your mind, your tears mirrored it. It felt relieving almost, to have it all rush out. However, that still didn't help to alleviate the weight that sat on your shoulders. It crushed your head, compressed your chest, as forlorn sobs ascended from the deepest depths of your heart.

It all began to flow around you; the rushing of your thoughts, the coursing tears running down your face, the dripping water of the shower cascading down upon your sullen form. Yet, in that moment, none of that mattered to you.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Kastuki had just finished up some late-night training, making the exception only for weekend nights such as this since there was no school the next day to worry about. It was peaceful, the halls empty as everyone was out somewhere enjoying the calm night, either on their own or with someone they cared about.

As he made his way past the common room bathrooms, a small sound caught his attention. At first he ignored it, however he found it harder to forget about the further he walked past it. Stopping in his tracks, he huffed and swiftly turned back, coming to a halt at the door of the bathroom. He put his ear up to it and listened to hear what it was, only to be met with the sound of gentle sobs.

He frowned to himself, and although he was curious to find out who it was, he certainly wasn't about to walk in during such a private moment. Although he wasn't the most... empathetic, he still felt a twinge of remorse upon being greeted with the sound. Slowly, he raised a hand to the door and knocked a couple times, noticing how quickly the sobs dissipated on the other side.

"... Oi. I know you were-" He took a breath and restarted, noticing how blunt he was being. "Are you... You ok in there?"

You quickly went to work on trying to wipe the tears from your face the moment you heard a knock on the bathroom door, purely out of fear that you were being too loud. You were caught off guard upon hearing Bakugo's voice of all people, especially with him asking you if you were ok instead of yelling at you.

"Um, I'm ok, it's nothing-"

"Didn't sound like nothing" He was quick to shut you down, hating it when people hid things from him, especially with how common it was for everyone to hide their emotions.

"It's just me. No one's around, so... Tell me, what's going on?"

You sat still in place, letting the water run down your face as you thought. Letting out a sigh, you decided to answer honestly.

"I'm just... I just had a bad day today..." As you answered you sniffled a bit, continuing to wipe the tears that seemed never-ending.

Bakugo looked at the ground in thought, his hands in his pockets and the thought of sleep gone from his mind. It was heartbreaking honestly, he completely understood what it was like. Thinking back, he wished to himself that he had someone to talk to during those times...

He decided that night that he'd be that person.

"A rough day, huh?" He sighed and frowned, his voice unusually soft. "I guess life's like that sometimes, not always going your way..."

You moved your head up from the water as he spoke, eyeing the door as if you could see him on the other side.

"When things go south and don't work out like we hoped, it's ok to feel like everything sucks... Like nothing can go right, or like the world's against you..." Taking his hands out of his pockets, he leaned back against the wall next to the door as he crossed his arms.

"It all... Just got to be too much...."

He nodded to your response, despite knowing that you can't see him.

"I can relate to how you're feeling... Overwhelmed, too much on your plate..."

A beat of silence passes by the both of you, comforting in each other's presence.

"It'll be ok..."

Surprised, you looked up after hearing his blunt response. Normally you'd be sick of hearing such a common phrase, but with how Bakugo always phrased his answers, he was always known to be brutally honest. In this instance, it rendered you speechless as you waited for an explanation.

"It may seem like the end of the world, but if you work at it a little at a time, it'll be a lot easier than doing it all at once. It'll be less daunting, too. You just need to hang in there, with all you've got left in you."

He ran hand through his hair as he gritted his teeth, racking his brain of anymore he could say.

"If you need to talk... You've got me. You've got the whole damn class... And I want you to remember that needing support..." He furrowed his brows, only recently learning this hard lesson himself.

"It doesn't make you weak... Asking for help is a sign of strength. It's hard. And that's why it makes you strong, 'cause ignoring it's easy."

It felt good to him, being able to share the words of wisdom that took him so long to learn. It was something he held close to himself, and he hoped you would as well. At the very least he hoped it did something good for you.

The lack of sound began to worry him, receiving no response from you at all. The sound of the shower was off, and he wondered how long it was like that without him noticing. Worry filled his mind as he banged on the door, wanting needing to know if you were okay.

The door opened as his hand was about to make contact again, and you greeted him - hair damp and dressed in your pajamas. Bakugo breathed a sigh of relief, although he noticed how red and puffy your eyes were.

"... Thank you."

It was truly quiet in the dorms. But he preferred it like that.

Bakugo huffed and let out a small smile, gently putting a hand to the top of your head to ruffle your hair.

"Look... " He didn't mind being a little cheesy today. No one was around anyways.

"Just remember, you're never alone."

A/N:

Again, I do apologize if reads like it's half-done, I'm a little sleepy but I have a habit of only being able to write at night (´Д｀;)ヾ　

If you ever want to talk, I'll always be here! I do hope your day goes better next time!

Wishing you well! Thank you for being here ♡( * ´꒳`ﾉ(´^`° )

[taehyungisminee]

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑻𝒂𝒆𝒉𝒚𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑷𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕~

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝑫𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝑨 𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝑼𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒕

𝑯𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒚!! 𝑴𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 ����𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒊𝒅!

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 :- 1,005 words 5,584 characters

࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐

࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐His schedules are long and exhausting. For him, at least. For you, just waiting at home after you get home from work, pretty boring. You're pretty sure you have watched everything on Netflix at this point. Your patience has now worn out. You opened a package that was sent earlier on and you knew exactly what was inside, you ordered it from a local boutique recently. And if Taehyung isn't going to be coming home anytime soon, your going to have to share from a distance.

You pull out the lingerie out of the packaging and admire it for only a second before rushing to your room to try it on. You rearrange some of the furniture to make the picture look cuter. When you catch a sight of yourself in the mirror, you can't help but stop and admire. Sure you have insecurities about your body, but it's times like this that makes you wonder why. The outfit grabs perfectly on yours (and Taehyung's) favourite parts of your body. Several minutes late, you giggle while gazing at the picture on your phone screen. You choose the best pictures and delete all the bad ones, and then enter the messaging app. You hesitated before sending the picture to Taehyung, weighing the possibilities of what could happen. Gazing at the picture on your phone's screen.

You choose the best pictures and deleted all the bad ones, and then enter the messaging app. He might be in a lovely mood and shower you with compliments. Or he might be in a frustrated mindset from his long day of work. You decided to risk it all and send a less provocative picture you took.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𝑻𝑬𝑿𝑻𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

Taehyung: What are you doing babygirl?

You: Nothing, just chilling

You act all innocent. You send another one where you are biting your thumb. The hesitation from before has now turned to mischief.

Taehyung: The staff saw that.

You: WHAT?

Taehyung: I'm going to ruin you. That was a wrong move babygirl. Let's see how loud you scream my name today?

Well that ended badly. Fuck. Inside your quite scared but also curious of the things he will do to you.

Taehyung: I'll be home soon. Wait for me.

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𝑻𝑬𝑿𝑻𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

You settle on your bed, scrolling through instagram but not really paying attention to it. You stomach starts to do somersaults when you hear the front door open and then close, indicating that Taehyung's home.

You listen closely to the familiar sound of him dropping his bag on the floor and flinging his shoes across the hall. He comes into the bedroom, observes you quietly and makes his way towards the closet, taking his belt off.

When he comes back, he grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him. "You should know better than to send me these when I'm at work." He said sternly.

"I-im sorry." You cast your eyes away.

"Why did you do it then?" I don't know. "Missed you, i guess." "Look at me baby." You meet his eyes. "Don't do it again, understand?"

You nod. For a second, you are foolish enough to think that this is over but oh boy, this is just getting started. He pushes you back on the bad and slips his hands under your shirt.

"You're lucky you're so hot." He hissed. "Or I'd be pissed." You whimper when he starts to suck on your neck, tugging your skin into his mouth. You expect him to stop after a few seconds, but he keeps abusing that one spot until you almost cry out in pain.

"I don't like anybody else seeing you like that-." He bites at your collarbone. "I bet you do, don't you?"

You want to respond, but you can barely remember how to breathe right now. He's not about to allow that.

He pulls back. "What's that sweetheart? I want you to tell me how much you like the idea of others seeing you like that." "I-i like it. Makes me feel p-pretty."

"Oh, you are a pretty thing. Especially with these marks. I'll have to take a few pictures later. Maybe I'll show them to all the others. Let everyone know how much of a whore you are for me?"

With that he goes back to leaving hickeys on your neck, his hands travelling down to your core. As soon as his fingers reached you, he pulled away.

"Strip for me." He commands. You scramble around to remove your clothing, ignoring the pressure in your stomach. You hardly notice Taehyung taking his clothes of too. He leans over, pushing you back on the bed.

It takes several moments more for you to whine out a syllable, but then he doesn't hold back. He pushes into you, almost too fast. It burns slightly but it's not completely unpleasant, especially compared to other punishments he has given you. "Do you want me to stop babygirl?" He whispers before moving. "No D-daddy." You whine. "More." "Move!" You cry.

He does. He slams into you relentlessly, gripping your waist tighter. His lips travel across your neck and your chest. You desperately want him to kiss you, but know better than to ask. "Faster, please." You whimper.

"Oh you're a little slut."

"Takes one to know one." You mumble. He finally speeds up, now seeming genuinely angry. He nails that spot over and over again, leaving you moaning and writhing and begging just how he likes you to. Insults fly from his mouth. He complains about how need you are, how you're such a tease, how you'd do anything for his cock. And he's right. With a sharp thrust and a hiss of, "Damn kitten. I cant deny the fact how good you take daddy's cock" your cumming.

He collapses on top of you, only to roll of moments later. He pulls you close, showering you with praises. "Oh, you did so well for me. I'm sorry I didn't mean anything of the harsh things i said."

You wait for him to say it, but when he trails off, you prompt him. "I'm a good girl, right?"

"You're my good girl. My one and only."

"Yours." And with that, you fall asleep, sticky and sweaty and a bit hungry.

࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐࿐

𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 :- @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

𝑱𝒐𝒊𝒏 ���𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 ❦

[apompkwrites]

Hi hi! Remember the school au I made for the Lil Sheep and never mentioned again? Lmao, I have been working on it, but most of it is me screaming

The school does have dorms, and I wanted to base it on something like how Noble Bell College, Night Raven, and Royal Sword are, however, I'm not 100% sure if I wanted to base it off of other stories or keep it generally centered around the Seven.

I have some ideas for other stories that the dorm could be based on and some ideas for it being based on the Seven. If it's based on the Seven, then the dorms would be centered around the background characters, after all the Lil sheep in the game would be background characters who the main character probably wouldn't interact with much, and their whole arc in their school would be all of the Sheepies learning to accept that they are their own person and have their own lives, they don't need to revolve around their parents, siblings, or other's around them to survive and they aren't just background or one-off characters, they're their own people independent of whatever story they're tied(this is a newer idea, so it isn't that fleshed out)

Meanwhile, if it was based on other stories, I thought of basing it on ballet and opera stories. I have been flirting with this idea a lot, and I like it since it separates the Lil Sheep and gives them their own story, not just their brother's story. While I am pretty set on this idea, it's not 100%; I do have some possible stories to base the dorms off of, though, and even some ideas for some very silly events that would happen and I even have a few tidbits for it before the background character idea came about and here it is

I honestly have no name for any of these dorms all I know is that Shroud's dorm is based on Giselle by Adolphe Adam and Jean Coralli and I put Data recording for talent because I can totally see Lil Flame blanking when writing that down because they never considered themselves talented at something and since data recording is something that they do a lot of they just put it down and I put Piano down for hobbies because of my previous hobby headcanons

I made it so that all the dorms have been split into two sections and these two sections have two different leaders, just to make it easier for the house wardens to manage and because I don't want to make another school for the "good guys" of the stories and thought it would just be easier and they have two vice dorm leaders to assist the two dorm leaders

also, I did a very silly thing when deciding their student id number

The headmistress handpicked all of the black sheep which everyone considers odd since she normally gets her butterflies to do her and the school doesn't have a magic mirror however the dorms seem to quite literally have a mind of their own, I mean the dorm picks the dorm leaders.

It's unknown on what basis the dorms pick their leaders on, as it just happens randomly the first week back at school after the previous leader graduates. The choice can be found in a painting with all the dorm leaders in the main hall and in the dorms there is a line of portraits of the previous leaders stopping only at the current two. No one has ever witnessed the process of the paintings being made they just appear overnight with a letter accompanying it announcing their choice, and there is a ceremony acknowledging the choice so that the whole school knows, this same process happens with vice-wardens too.

The dorm assigning process is actually also done by the dorms, the Headmistress puts on the main building walls the names of all of the new students and on the first day of school, the freshmen are told to go find their name and dorm placement.

the two sections were actually a choice made by the dorms itself as the day that the dorms picked it's chosen leaders the Headmistress found that instead of it picking just one it picked two, and the Headmistress figured out what it was trying to say rather quickly.

also an interesting thing about Shrouds dorm, it was the first dorm in 50 years give or take to have only one dorm leader when the choice was made. This was because the dorm didn't see anyone fit for the position of second dorm leader. That was before they got a transfer student who midyear appeared in the painting in the main hall, sitting next to Shroud with their head on Shroud's shoulder with the other dorm leaders surrounding them. it was a shock to the whole school since this had never happened before, but was a massive relief to Shroud and the two vice-house wardens who were taking most of the work for the missing leader.

at this point, I've just decided that might as well use the other stories instead of the background characters idea lmao

also as a side note, the Headmistress hand picks all the students but does so in the form of her butterflies, she very specifically instructs them however for whatever reason when she chose the Lil Lambs she appeared in person, everyone is under the impression that she leaves it up to her butterflies when she really just micromanages the shit out of it

anyways enjoy these crumbs of a idea from me lmao

hi hi! ofc i remember the lovely school au :DD

glad to see you bestow another crumb unto us <33 love that lil shroud is our main focus (my lil baby :DD).

and is that a doc i see :O is. is there more :OO

we love the lil sheepies getting their own school where they can grow without being in the shadows of their brothers :)

[rafaelblackbird15]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this. 

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation. 

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power. 

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

[theweasleysredhair]

Push The Button [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 1509

Requested?: Yes (kinda?)/No

Summary: Fred doesn’t seem to catching all your hints that you like him... maybe you need to be a lil more obvious. Or maybe he has noticed and likes you too. [Based on ‘Push The Button’ by The Sugababes!]

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @pussytalenteditdocartwheels @wand3ringr0s3 @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: dedicated to my bby zahra @starlightweasley - hope you enjoy lovely!! ❤️❤️

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

“Don’t you look handsome,” you spoke, arriving by Fred’s side as he looked out on the Yule Ball. He turned at the sound of your voice, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he looked you up and down, “Don’t you look gorgeous.”

You looked down to hide your flustered expression, smoothing out your dress - red, a colour you knew for a fact he liked on you.

As you glanced back up at him, his gaze was already on you, his bottom lip between his teeth. You reached up to straighten his tie, your face close to his as you kept your eyes on him, a small but confident smile on your lips. You then ran your hands down his chest, feeling the way he tensed under your touch. His hands dropped to your hips, squeezing gently, “Enjoying the ball?”

“I suppose, my date was a tad boring though. He seems to be enjoying himself with one of the Beauxbatons girls now though,” you replied, not at all bothered about the night’s events. You’d only said yes to the boy because Fred hadn’t asked, but you weren’t about to say that to him.

“Trust me, it’s his loss,” Fred said, his voice low, breath hitting your face as he pulled you closer to him. You had hoped he was going to kiss you, but he made no move to, instead pulling you towards the crowd of Hogwarts students to dance.

He never made the move to. No matter how many hints you’d thrown his way, how many flirty comments, how many times you almost blatantly told him to his face that you were in love with him. How obvious should a girl be?

You’d liked him for a while now, he’d drawn you in with his louder than life personality, his pranks, his confidence. He was flirty - this was a given. And sure, he flirted with many girls, but you hoped the flirting with you was different - meant something different.

He held you in his arms as you danced, close to him, yet there was still a small distance - one you wanted to close, but didn’t know what else to do. Didn’t know what you should do.

Of course, you also didn’t know for sure that he actually liked you back. As much as his touches, his gaze, lingered on you, you were doubtful. You’d made it painfully clear how much you liked him - everyone knew, George even joined in giving hints - but he never made a move, never seemed to pay attention.

And as he twirled you, you decided that by Christmas, you’d tell him directly how you felt about him. If he wasn’t taking the hints, he’d surely understand the words.

***

“It’s just a Christmas party! You should come! We usually have one before the holidays anyway, but since everyone stayed behind this year, it just makes sense to celebrate together on Christmas Eve!” Angelina practically begged you, clinging onto your arm as you walked through the hallways towards the Great Hall for lunch.

“I have a lot of work to do, I should really-“

“Fred will be there. Merlin, him and George are organising the bloody thing!”

You halted, making Angelina nearly stumble as she let out a laugh at your reaction. “He likes you,” Angelina said in a sing-song voice, an excited grin crossing her face as she looked at you expectedly.

“He does? How could you possibly know that?”

She nodded, “I heard him talking about you, after the ball. He wants you, he’s just being - I don’t know, gentlemanly? Is that a word we can use to describe Fred? Either way he likes you. So we’re going to this Gryffindor party, and we’re gonna get you with Fred Weasley.”

You raised an eyebrow at her triumphant expression, before shaking your head and laughing, “I might make an appearance, we’ll see.”

***

Christmas Eve arrived quicker than you expected, and you were feeling the nerves for the party and the excitement of Christmas all at once. You’d agreed to go to the party, telling yourself it wasn’t because of Fred - no, not at all. But because it would be fun. Right? Or at the very least, you’d be able to celebrate Christmas with your friends.

“Do I go for black or brown smoky eye?” Angelina called over to you. You looked over at her from sitting on her bed, glancing between the two muggle eyeshadow palettes she was holding.

“Hmm... both would look great! Maybe brown I reckon though. Oh, add the gold shimmery one! That looked amazing last time!”

She nodded, humming in agreement as she began rummaging around to find the gold colour you were referring to.

You turned back to the mirror, placing the last finishing touches on your lipstick - a dark red that made you look much more confident than you felt.

“Black skirt or red dress?” You asked, holding up said garments to Angelina, who looked up at you from putting her eyeliner on. She glanced at both items and pointed to the dress.

“Red dress, definitely,” she answered. You nodded, placing the skirt back down and playing with the hem of the dress. Was it a tad too revealing? Maybe. But you loved the dress, and hoped Fred would too.

You did your hair with a wave of your wand, before pulling the dress on and looking in the mirror. Biting your lip, you turned to Angelina, “How do I- wow you look amazing!”

Angelina’s jaw dropped as she took in your appearance, “Says you? My Godric!”

“Too much?” You asked sheepishly, chewing at your lip for a moment, before remembering the lipstick and sighing as you checked the mirror to make sure none had gone onto your teeth.

“Just enough,” she replied, “You look gorgeous!”

By the time you’d entered the Gryffindor common room, the music was playing loudly, the sound thumping through the walls. Your eyes skimmed the crowd quickly, finding the boy you loved easily among the students, smiling to yourself as you noticed him already looking in your direction.

You kept your distance for a while, sticking with Angelina - and by extension, Alicia Spinnet too - laughing with them and actually, surprisingly, enjoying yourself. A new song came on, one unfamiliar to you but Angelina’s eyes widened excitedly.

“Let’s dance!” She practically screamed over the music, grabbing your hand and Alicia’s and pulling you into the sea of students, making you laugh at her enthusiasm. You danced with her, the song having a good beat, continuing on as the songs changed, completely lost in your own world until you happened to catch sight of Fred leaning against a nearby wall, arms crossed as he bit his lip. His eyes were trained on you, and you began purposely swaying your hips with the music a little more.

Barely a minute later, you felt a chest press against your back, hands on your waist and moving your hips against him. You looked up, smiling as you realised it was Fred, spinning around in his arms and wrapping your arms around his neck.

He was smirking down at you, his hands gripping your hips as you moved against him. He leant to your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin as he spoke, “Fancy seeing you here love.”

“Seems you were having a good time just watching me,” you replied easily, a hand running up into his ginger locks.

He moved your hips against his, hands gripping you as you felt him grin against your cheek, “This show all for me then, yeah?”

“Definitely,” you confirmed, swaying your hips again slowly, almost missing the soft groan that escaped his mouth because of the loud music, “All for you, Freddie.”

He ran his tongue along the shell of your ear, and you leant into his touch, gently nibbling at your skin. You breathed out happily, closing your eyes as he moved to your neck, tilting your head to give him better access.

He trailed kisses down your jaw, before pulling you to one side, away from the dancing students who kept bumping into you both, and towards the spot where he was stood watching you before. You just about saw Angelina’s excited and exaggerated thumbs up at you, before Fred finally - finally - did what you’d been wanting him to do for months and pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, holding you between his chest and the wall as you ran your hands through his hair, pulling him against you.

“Finally got the hint, did you?” You couldn’t help but smile up at him, breathing heavily when he eventually pulled away from your lips for air.

He grinned cheekily, “Just about, could’ve made it more obvious for me, couldn’t you?”

Your scoffed, shaking your head at him and he laughed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

“Just kidding, you couldn’t have been more obvious if you tried, love.”

[dusterson]

HEADCANON DUMP: Dusty-Bun and Suzie-Poo, and the Neverending Goddamn Story.

Regarding the dynamic of their relationship as a whole, I imagine Suzie had a habit of pushing Dustin out of his comfort zones concerning affection, including making him sing more often than he'd want to once they both had a stable radio connection set-up. She grew up surrounded by several loved ones and is used to an amount of affection I think would absolutely smother Dustin.

Their pet names for each other right off the bat are over the top and feel unnatural. Suzie uses the same nickname for him as his mother does. That's like if my partner called me Skippy. I'd be weirded out. But as we all know, Dustin isn't well versed on socialization's nuances. Suzie calling him Dusty-bun comes off (to me) as a direct allusion to his dynamic with mama Claudia: a female figure who is overtly loving and sees the best in Dustin, and him withholding information as well as healthy affection from the both of them.

Symbolically in media, a character in a relationship with someone who mirrors exact behaviours of the character's parent, represents the unhealthy foundations of that relationship or one of the characters specifically-- most often co-dependent. And when these types of relationships form in real life, it results in a rough break-up; the longer the bond, the harder the split.

Dustin has a maternal figure, so why supposedly seek out another one? He's not. At least not for someone to take care of him the exact way his mom does. What does he benefit from his relationship with Suzie? She's a boost to his self esteem in several categories, by season 4 she's willing to commit hella crime just to help him cheat in class. Suzie is seeking a legitimate, if a little unrealistic, romantic relationship. Dustin is majorly profiting from the relationship for ulterior motives.

Not to say he's intentionally using Suzie. This is the first relationship he's been in, and it's easier to understand in text than when truly experiencing. We all have our unhealthy behaviours, and this seems to be one of Dustin's. So with Dustin using Suzie for her intellect and novelty, and Suzie pushing Dustin into proving his love to her in emotional gestures, what we have is a time bomb of hormones and the two wearing one another down, and not realizing themselves that what they are together and do to one another is unhealthy.

But onto the topic I started writing out in the first place.

In my headcanon for him, Dustin had initially been singing Neverending Story to himself at summer camp the first time Suzie heard him, then joined in. That one time, he loved it, it made him blush and sprout all kinds of butterflies in his belly. They sang it a lot together over that summer; most of the time Dustin had fun to sing with her, and otherwise didn't mind humouring Suzie for the sake of her company.

Come the time he radios her for aid, he would have liked to sing with her again now that they were both home and so far away from one another. But that was not the time for a duet, and the duet is not for an audience. They sang it in the woods far off from the other campers, hushedly to one another in the mess hall.

This time?

He was surrounded by his friends, who knew nothing about Suzie or his relationship with her. (hell, they didn't even believe she was real. Dustin Henderson? Girlfriend? Psshhhnaw. Oh and she's pretty and smart?? Impossible.) The mall was swarming with Russian forces. An eldritch monstrosity was wreaking havoc and bloodshed.

That, was not the time. And it hurt Dustin, even long after he'd watched the mall go up in flames, the helicopters fly by, and listened to the silence of not knowing if his friends were alive that. And then Max and Lucas tease him for it. And they do not stop. It's so spread that even Will jests about it half a year later. He probably didn't sing that song much any more, if at all. This, I think would also be true for canon Dustin as it is for mine. After the events of season 4, Suzie and Dustin's relationship flourishes at first as they keep in touch over long distance as best they can. There's no longer any need for him to keep all the secrets about what lived in Hawkins, and at first Suzie fully believes him and was excited to help him for real now. However, Dustin becomes more and more secretive and short-tempered, and Suzie proves to need a much different form of romantic relationship than he can provide or be happy in. Their struggles to maintain a healthy relationship is skewed by tinted views of one another, and shattered as their spirits are both worn down by the efforts against Vecna's spreading power. Dustin didn't have the heart to genuinely bring it up to Suzie until they were used to fighting each other. By the end of 1997 they had broken up. While Suzie tried to mend at least their friendship, Dustin became extremely vicious towards her, similarly to his behaviour towards Max when Lucas bonded with her.