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seriouslysnape · 4 years

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Could you write Sev taking the woman he’s been in love with for months on a first date in London, and he goes all out for it? Like he even went out and bought muggle clothes to blend in and he’s planned out the whole night. He’s of course nervous af but at the end of the night, he finally kisses her.

Also, your writing is so fucking good! Can’t wait for more!

THANK YOU. This is an amazing prompt. I had so much fun with this one!

Here ya go! :) (Below the cut!)

A New Beginning

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

A/N: Quick self promo - for all my Wattpad readers, I have a Severus Snape x Reader story that is currently in the works! Please note, it has been a long time since I’ve written a continuous story so my skills are a little rusty. The first 11 chapters are up now and I update frequently. The title is “The Assistant” and my Wattpad username is @ hufflehotch (great username, I know). If you’re interested, feel free to give it a read! I encourage comments (on any of my works) because I always like to hear feedback!

Word Count: 2,000

“Not at all...but you look too much like a wizard,”

Severus Snape: firm, collected, cold, stoic, urgent. These are just a few words that would come to mind when describing the half-blood prince. He kept his guard up at all times. He infrequently allowed others to get too close to him. He kept his heart, his mind, and his feelings protected by having a hard exterior that no one could crack. He never wanted to feel the pain of a heartbreak again. He didn’t think he’d ever find love again.

That was before he met you.

The moment he laid his eyes on you, he knew he was in trouble. He knew the unmistakable skip in his chest all too well when his gaze found yours. He denied it at first. He didn’t dare get near you or engage in conversation for fear of falling for you. However, he found himself constantly in your presence and constantly trying to get away. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings in any way, for you hadn’t done anything wrong. You were so kind to him in the interactions you did have that he felt guilty for pushing you away. Eventually, he gave in. Once he did finally give in, he slowly felt the icy, cold block around his heart begin to melt away.

He began to change quickly. Suddenly, he looked forward to waking up every morning to have a conversation with you over a cup of coffee or tea. He was less stern in all of his Potions classes and actually offered his more pleasant teaching abilities (which had caused a bit of a puzzled stir amongst his students). He found himself enjoying his life again. He wasn’t just existing anymore.

The longer he was around you and the more he got to know you, the more difficult it became to ignore his feelings. He had undeniably fallen in love with you and he couldn’t wait any longer.

He was relieved when you happily agreed to go on a date with him. As exciting as it was, a new sense of nervousness began to creep over him. It had been a long, long time since he had been on a date (if he had even ever been on what was considered a real date). What would you two do? What should he wear? Should he bring flowers? He had a million things he had to work out, and he wanted to make it perfect.

He didn’t want to miss this chance.

He was so desperate to make it perfect that he even invested in some outside help. It wasn’t a super well known fact, but Professor Remus Lupin was a pure romantic. He knew all the ins and outs of how to have a nice date, so he was more than willing to give his colleague some tips. Keep it simple, but sweet.

The day came around and Severus felt like he was walking on pins and needles all day. He could barely get through his Friday classes because he was so overwhelmed with nerves and anticipation.

He had decided on taking you to London. The beautiful Muggle city with endless shops and restaurants to entertain even the most high maintenance of people. Usually, he wouldn’t be too keen on blending with the Muggle world, but you were a dazzling woman who deserved an even more stunning place for a date.

He had to prepare in advance for this. He had to purchase clothes that wouldn’t totally give away that he was an expertly trained wizard. He felt strange being in such foreign clothes, but (even though he’d never admit it) it was nice to wear something other than his black robes.

The white collared shirt was finely fitted over his frame, along with the tan pants and shoes to accompany it. He looked handsome and more put together than he had been in a while. He had even taken the time to keep his long hair from being completely out of control. He had taken a few more moments to ease his nerves. His hands were shaking profusely. He did NOT want to mess this up.

He managed to settle himself enough to where he wasn’t completely frazzled. He took a deep breath and went on his way to pick you up. He was confident. He had this under control.

That was, until he saw you.

All the butterflies in his belly and the rosy heat in his cheeks all came crashing back over him when he saw you clad in a Muggle style sweater and jeans. You looked so perfect that he wasn’t sure you were real.

“Severus,” You greeted with a friendly smile; “I have to say, I never thought I’d see the day where you were dressed in something other than your robes.”

Severus suddenly felt self conscious. Had he gone a little overboard with his attire?

“Is it...too much?” He asked as casually as possible.

Your smile faded into a reassuring expression. It was your turn to get butterflies now that you were really looking at him. You carefully reached for the collar of his shirt. He had buttoned it all the way to the top, just below his neck. You unbuttoned the first few buttons and adjusted his collar.

“Not at all...but you look too much like a wizard,” You explained; “Muggles usually are much more laid back.” You noted.

The tips of Severus’ ears went beet red at the feel of your fingertips just barely brushing against the skin of his neck. He was grateful that his hair kept them hidden. You were so close that he could smell your perfume. It was heavenly and accented you well. He racked his brain of something to say.

“You look terrific.” He complimented.

A certain glow dusted your cheeks. You smiled sheepishly at his words and thanked him. After a few more attire adjustments, you were well on your way into London with the help of a little magic. Severus had forgotten just how amazing London really was. He had a bit of a soft spot for the city.

He had the entire evening planned out in his head. He figured dinner would be first. There was a quaint, yet elegant place that he knew about and had been to a few times before. After that, he thought that St. James Park would be a nice place to wind down for the evening. St. James was likely one of London’s most famous parks, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t be super crowded.

The two of you strolled side by side through the streets of London, casually conversing about the things they usually did. Potions, professional Quidditch, Hogwarts in general. At one point, your hand brushed against his as you drew nearer to your first destination. Before he could comprehend it, your hand had entwined in his. He slightly squeezed your hand in surprise, to which you squeezed back lightly with a grin.

Dinner was wonderful. Severus was so antsy and jittery that he could barely sit still longer than a few minutes. His leg bounced nervously under the table and his fingers drummed on the white tablecloth. You kept catching him staring longingly at you. He just couldn’t believe that he had finally caught this moment with you.

“Severus, it’s just me,” You said sweetly, hiding a knowing smirk from behind the rim of your wine glass; “We’ve had dinner together plenty of times.”

That seemed to settle him once more. His tense shoulders suddenly released and he let out an uptight breath. You were right. He didn’t need to try to outdo himself.

“I know. You’re just so beautiful,” He spoke softly, feeling confident again; “[Y/N], I lov-”

His sudden confession was cut off when the waiter approached with your respective meals. Severus thanked his lucky stars for that. He knew now wasn’t the right time yet. A busy restaurant with a bunch of people around wasn’t how he wanted it to go. He wanted to wait for the right moment. He just hoped he’d know it when he saw it.

After dinner, you led him back into the streets of London, still hand in hand. It was well past nightfall by now, the city lights had created a bubble of illumination over the immediate area. You were all over the idea of going to the park before it closed, considering it was your favorite place in the city. It turned out that Severus’ suspicions were correct. The park was shockingly empty for a Friday night. The two of you walked on the dimly lit walkways, soaking up every second.

Maybe it was his sudden serenity and content aura, but the two of you suddenly fell into a conversation that was something other than work related. He didn’t know it yet, but the walls that he had spent so much of his energy on building were quickly tumbling down. He was sharing details of his life that he never thought he’d bring to light again. You weren’t surprised to hear that his childhood had been less than gratifying.

“You didn’t like Hogwarts?” You questioned after hearing that he had a bad experience with the school.

“Well, I was skilled when it came to my classes. I enjoyed learning about the wizarding world, but I was the runt of the litter I suppose. I wasn’t well liked.”He told you, who was on edge with interest; “I didn’t have a single friend. That was until...”

He let himself trail off. He refused to finish the thought.

No. For once, this wasn’t about Lily. He wasn’t mourning over something that was never reality. He wasn’t going to let his life be dictated by one wish that never came true for him. When the time was right, he’d tell you about Lily. You deserved to know when that day came. But it wasn’t about her anymore.

It was about you.

Before you could urge him to finish his sentence, he had stopped your walk just over a small bridge. He held your hands in front of him, his thumbs stroking your supple skin on the back of your hand. His nerves had completely fizzled away now. He knew he was right where he was supposed to be. Right now, this moment was the only thing that mattered in the world.

Your tender eyes looked into his. He had a sight deep within his dark eyes that you couldn’t identify. Had he always looked at you this way? It was such an extensive adoration that it made you weak in the knees. The moon was full in the black, inky sky that was sprinkled with twinkling stars. The moon was cascading a crisp, dull light over the both of you.

This was almost too flawless.

“[Y/N], I’m having a difficult time finding the right words to say.” He admitted, his voice thick with depth.

You took a half step to press yourself against him, allowing this to happen the way it needed to.

“Then show me.” You breathed, bracing for what was inevitably about to happen.

That’s when he kissed you. It was a passionate, temperate kiss that was just borderline needy. It sent waves of emotion over both of you that was too complex to understand. The rest of Severus’ walls were crumbled now. He was vulnerable and open again. It was a huge pressure off of him.

You pulled away from each other just slightly, your lips just hardly touching. You didn’t want to stop touching him. Your hands traveled and rested on his shoulders, his hands on your waist.

“I love you.” He finally declared.

It was like the floodgates had opened. The contents of his heart were spilling all within himself. He could love again.

“Oh, Severus...I love you.” You returned.

Instantly, you kissed again. His new refreshing outlook was very clear in his demeanor. It was the perfect way to end the perfect night.

It was a perfect new beginning.

#severus snape #severus #severus snape x reader #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #professor snape #professor snape x reader #professor snape x you #seriouslysnape

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frostsinth · 4 years

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Burdened by the Stars - Pt. 3

Part 1 | 2 - MasterList

Ok, so I’ve been sitting on this mostly finished part since basically the end of the Year. I’m sorry, I just forgot how close I was to being done. And for some reason, I’m enjoying daydreaming out chapters right now rather than writing them -sigh-

But either way, Here’s an update! I hope you guys continue to enjoy the dumbassery and himbo vibes! If you like my work, consider supporting me by buying me a coffee from the link in my MasterList above. I have lots of other inane ramblings there too if you are interested. DM me for commissions, shoot me asks with thoughts/comments!

All the best, and Enjoy!

He didn’t answer for a long moment, and I could almost feel his eyes boring into the back of my skull. I ignored him to the best of my ability, leading the mare not to the main road, but to a small deer trail that ran along the outside wall. Luckily, the goblins depended pretty heavily upon their enchantments. I wouldn’t have to worry about being spotted as we approached the wall and followed along the smoother track I had picked out years ago. Guards did not frequent the turrets, and I knew we would not set off the magical triggers here. Once we got into the castle? That would be a different story...

“You never told me your name.” Erramun called softly.

I stiffened, casting a quick glance at him over my shoulder. He was leaning over the horn of the saddle, perhaps trying to look nonchalant. But the grimace on his features confirmed it was simply the more comfortable position for him. I wondered at that for a moment. How well he had hidden his discomfort before. How far he had travelled with such an injury that obviously pained him so. I wasn’t sure if that made him lucky, or just stubborn. I watched his eyes studying the great stone wall we moved parallel to, and chewed over what answer to give him. Had he heard my name before? The name of the “goblin Princess”? If I told him it honestly, would he finally understand who it was he had been talking to all this time?

For some reason, I didn’t want him to make that connection. Not yet. Not ever, if I could avoid it. I was hoping that after I got his wound washed up and dressed, I would be able to convince him to give up his foolish folly. A part of me wondered if he would treat me differently, if he knew. Would he spend his energy attempting to win me over? I didn’t fancy the idea of having to fend off his advances. And if I was being completely honest… I rather liked how he treated me now. Like an equal. Not someone to fawn over, or try to flatter and praise to some unseen advantage. He didn’t act like I couldn’t do things for myself, or like it was beneath me to do so, as others so often did. But I knew I couldn’t avoid giving him a name forever...

“Gana.” I told him after a moment too long, settling on the name my nieces and nephews had dubbed me with years ago as toddlers unable to pronounce the full ‘Morgana’. “... My name is Gana.”

“Do you… serve the Princess then, Gana?” He asked, hesitant, but his tone curious. Then snorted slightly. “I’m not sure I can picture you as a servant. Obedient... quiet.”

“Well, you have known me for such a long time.” I replied, unwilling to give any real answer. “Obviously you would know, now wouldn’t you?” He started to open his mouth with a bemused curl in its corners but I waved my hand to silence him. “Shush now. Sneaking in requires a modicum of quiet, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Sneaking in?” He echoed, though I saw him wince at his own volume. He quickly corrected that to a whisper with his next words. “... Why are we sneaking in?”

I glanced at him again. “Because you’re an orc. Half-orc, alright.” I quickly corrected when I saw him open his mouth to argue. “Either way, you’ll raise a lot of questions. Call too much attention to us.”

“And that’s a…. Bad thing?”

I pulled us up beside the small side gate around the back side of the palace. His mare shifted nervously, and I saw her eyes roll to consider the steep drop off to our left. It was narrow here, but I knew she would fit safely. I had taken my own horse out this route more than once. I passed him the reins momentarily as I turned back to fiddle with the locks and latches.

“... It would just make things complicated, ok?” I told him distractedly. “Just... Trust me.”

I heard him give a deep rumble. “Alright. I do.”

I jerked my head back to him. “You do what?”

His emerald eyes seemed particularly vibrant against the grey sky overhead. “Trust you. You seem very kind, Gana. And very smart.”

I almost laughed, but quickly remembered where we were. I shook my head instead, bewildered. “You know I was being sarcastic before, right?” I quipped. “You don’t actually know me at all.”

Another rumble, and I saw him nod with it. “Yes… But you are the first human who did not seem afraid of me when you first saw me. And you speak plainly, not with that strange way of speaking without speaking.” He offered me a weak grin, and my heart skipped a little. “And now you, eh… sneak me into the castle. To help me. Even though I have offered you nothing in return.”

“What do you mean, speaking without speaking?” I asked, turning back to the latches to hide the sudden flush to my face.

A soft ‘hmm’ this time, as he struggled to find the right words. “The King, Valeri-whatsits. He would speak, and say words. And I would hear them, and I knew them. But I would learn nothing from them. He might as well not have spoken at all.” I could hear the frown lacing his next words. “I did not like it. I felt… foolish, and confused.”

I snorted, shaking my head and pulling the last lock loose. Unwinding the chains to yank open the creaky gate. It led into a deep tunnel, not quite high enough to ride through on horseback. I hoped for his sake Erramun continued to keep his head bowed over the horn of his mount’s saddle.

“That’s how court is.” I told him distractedly, waving them through before refastening the gate behind us. I took up the mare’s reins again to lead them through the tunnel. “People never say what they mean. And to learn anything, you have to ask the right questions. Then you have to listen to what people don’t say.”

His soft growl reverberated around the tunnel walls, and his mount skittered slightly at the sound. I could tell she was nervous by the close quarters, and patted her nose reassuringly. She gave a soft wuffing sound and nudged my shoulder.

“This makes no sense. Why not just-”

“Shh!” I told him, pulling up short as I heard the click of boots at the other end of the tunnel.

But after a moment, the sounds passed. I sighed quietly, then gave the mare a gentle tug to start leading her forward once more. The tunnel was not long, and within a few yards we were at its mouth. The large mare attempted to surge forward at this realization, eager to be in the open air, but I held her firm. Planting my heels to keep her from overwhelming me, though I was certain she would have no trouble doing so should she so choose. But she let me still her as I poked my head out first and looked around. The small side path was empty, and I quickly led us out and up. Heading from the outer wall around the outside of the city to the castle proper.

“... Can I speak now?” He asked after a little, and I rolled my eyes.

“Well, it seems you already did.”

He chuckled softly. “See? I like you. You do not speak without speaking. This is why I trust you.”

I paused, rubbing the mare’s nose absent mindedly. Feeling a stab of guilt at his words. After all, I might not beat around the bush like my brother... but I was certainly withholding a lot of information. She gave another soft wuff. I shook myself, bringing my mind back to the present, and started to lead her forward again.

“I was afraid all humans would be like the King.” He told me after a few moments. Seeming strangely eager to fill the silence that had fallen between us.

I peeked at him quickly. “Have you never met a human before?” I couldn’t help the curious edge to my tone.

He offered me a toothy grin. “Just one. My mother.” The half-orc tilted his head lazily to the side. “She used to tell me all kinds of stories when I was little. Mostly about Princesses, and knights, and other such childish things.”

“Hardly seems childish,” I scoffed, “I grew up in a castle, after all-” I stopped myself short, realizing I had almost let on to a little more than I had intended. I quickly changed the subject. “I’ve never met an orc before- HALF orc,” I corrected again, shooting him a look which he chased off with a grin as he withheld his objection, “I hope they are not all as dense as you.”

Erramun gave another light chuckle, obviously more amused than insulted by my comment. “I think some are denser.” He rubbed his free hand at the short cropping of hair by his temple. “... But I have been accused of having a heavy skull.”

You could say that again. I grumbled silently to myself. Still, I couldn’t resist another peek at him over my shoulder. It could have been my imagination, but he seemed to be drooping more and more. And perhaps his voice was becoming a little weaker. I would have to get him someplace soon, or else I would be wrangling with an unconscious orc in the hallways of the goblin castle. I didn’t fancy my chances of managing such a feat, especially while continuing to remain unnoticed. I was good, but I wasn’t that good.

I made a point to hurry as fast as I could manage through the outer city to the outer wall of the castle proper. We approached the servant and delivery entrance at the far back side without being spotted. It was quiet for the time being, as all morning deliveries would have already been completed and staff should have all been on site no later than an hour or so after dawn. I quickly led them through the wrought iron gate, then around the back to a small yard fenced in by short stone walls. Perhaps it had been intended for a garden at one point, but it was mostly dirt now, save for one small tree and some sparse grass. I knew the servants often used it to park carts meant to be unloaded for the kitchen, rather than bringing things through the front entrances.

“Can you walk?” I asked him, closing another small gate behind us.

He grunted the affirmative, and ungracefully dismounted. Leaning heavily against the mare still as he tried to find his balance. I wondered if he was perhaps far too prideful to trust his assessment of his abilities, and quickly began to consider a few alternative options in case that were true. Though I couldn’t think of any truly plausible ones at that moment. Then I saw him hesitate, stroking the mare’s mane fondly.

“... Will she be alright here?”

I was surprised at the tenderness in his voice. He was so large, with such a harsh looking brow and jutting teeth. Even by goblin standards he seemed a little monstrous. Which made his tone seem all the more misplaced, and I had to resist the urge to look around for a different source. I glanced over at the mare quietly instead as he gently stroked her thick white neck.

“... I’ll come down later to bring her to the stables.” I assured him. “But first, we need to get you up to the tower before you pass out.”

“The tower?” He echoed, giving the mare a final pat and staggering after me as I made my way to the servant’s door at the far side of the yard.

“You have a lot of questions for someone who has no options.” I grumbled, shouldering open the door and ducking through it. “Or perhaps you are actually half parrot as well as orc?” I put a little extra effort into pretending his irritating habit of echoing my words was the only reason I was so hesitant to answer his prying.

He chuckled, but didn’t answer either. Once through the door I turned to watch the orc scrunch his body up, bowing low at the waist and curling his wide shoulders, with his hands practically on the ground to balance himself. He slunk through the small doorway with a grunt. Once inside, he was barely able to straighten himself, his head bumping into the ceiling.

“... Is the whole building like this?” He asked a few yards down after the fifth low hanging lamp clunked him on the head.

I stifled a giggle, amused at his perturbed look as he rubbed at the side of his skull indignantly. He had to keep his head cocked to the side at an odd angle to keep from scraping the ceiling with each step. I pretended I wasn’t looking though as his emerald eyes swung back around, ducking through another particularly low frame. There was nothing to look at, after all, I reminded myself. Just a bloody half-orc who wanted to marry the Princess...

“These are the servant’s quarters.” I told him, unable to completely keep my amusement from my voice. “But it is a goblin castle after all. Most things are goblin sized.”

He grumbled again, opening his mouth to offer a retort. I quickly held up my hand, then brought my finger to my lips. Silencing him as a small gaggle of goblins passed us by, talking noisily among themselves. I waited until they were around the next corner, then turned back to the half-orc behind me. I tapped my lips again, then gestured for him to follow me.

We made our way through the rest of the castle almost without incident. Erramun got wedged in the narrow stairwell from the servants’ quarters to the main floor, but a bit of wiggling had him loose with only a few extra wasted minutes. Once there, the ceilings and hallways were a little larger, and I heard him sigh with palpable relief as he was able to straighten more comfortably. I led him as quickly as we were able. Skirting past guards and down side hallways to avoid the servants and guests. Luckily, I knew every nook and cranny by heart; I had spent every summer and winter here since I was nine years old. And had loved nothing more than to explore its vast expanse. The castle was huge, and intricately constructed. There were hundreds of rooms, at least as many hallways, and more than a few exciting features to keep an adventurous young spirit entertained. Goblins used magic nearly as often as they used conventional decoration and construction methods, and the castle was filled with enchantments. From doorways that opened by themselves, to moving mosaics and paintings, to candelabras that flared to life when you passed, to seemingly solid walls that one could walk right through. There was no shortage of things to astound. And that was just the castle! This didn’t even hold a candle to the massive goblin city in the tunnels and passageways beneath it.

It was also helpful that I was intimately familiar with the castle’s routine; when the servants changed the bedsheets or did the wash, when the guards made their rounds, when the nobles came to the drawing room for drinks and cards. The general bubbly air of the castle was almost infectious, and I couldn’t help smiling at the laughter and music that echoed down almost every hallway. Delicious smells filled the air as the cooks prepared the mid-day meal, and I heard the occasional clatter and clash of other servants cleaning or tidying.

A peek at Erramun found both his eyes and his mouth wide as he took it all in. I remembered fondly my own first time walking the halls, and I smiled warmly at the memory. I watched him crane his neck back to look at the intricate mosaics on the ceilings, then down to the floor to consider the no less than three to seven different rugs running the length of each hallway. Niko had done his best to instill a bit of order on the palace since he had moved in over a decade before. But goblins would be goblins, and they loved patterns and colors. To them, the more made the merrier, and their décor was absolutely overflowing with it. Curtains and lace and frills. Decadent chandeliers and sculptures and vases. Gold and silver, copper and bronze. Lapis lazuli, ruby, emerald, diamond, onyx, opal, sapphire. Anything and everything imaginable lined the walls and poured into the hallways themselves. It was a bit cluttered, and certainly overwhelming if you weren’t used to it. But each piece shone and sparkled, and the halls felt warm, clean, and welcoming despite being mostly dimly lit. Goblins could see in the dark, after all.

I wondered briefly if orcs shared this trait. If I recalled my history correctly, orcs and goblins shared an ancient common ancestor. I didn’t have an enchantment on my eyes as Niko did, but I had become rather adept at moving about in dimly lit places. And with more non-goblins wandering the halls these days, there were more sources of light than in the past. I burned with curiosity to know how Erramun’s half-orc blood affected his sight. But it was something that would have to be an investigation for later, as I felt silence was the key factor for our stealth through the castle. Thankfully, even if the half-orc had more questions, he kept them to himself for the time being, and followed behind me obediently. Perhaps sensing urgency and silence were key. Or perhaps lacking the strength or presence of mind to have any questions to ask. That was a worrying thought, and I cast another glance over my shoulder to check on him. He gave me a sheepish grin and a little wave of his big hand. Alright for the time being then, I supposed, ignoring the little flutter in my chest at his smile.

We reached the upper levels a few minutes later, above ground and built to seemingly grow up into the sky out of the mountainside itself. Filled with windows to pour the bright winter sun through. And enchanted to have more space on the inside than it would appear to have by the outside, though its actual physical size was certainly no small measure. I almost sighed with relief. The tallest and largest towers had been quartered off for private use by the Royal family, and thus were off limits to guests and other outsiders. There would be less people wandering the halls up here; most of my relatives should be in the castle below going about their daily responsibilities. My nieces and nephews would be with their tutors, and Grier and Nikostratus would be handling affairs of state. It was possible there might be a servant or two finishing up tidying the rooms from the morning, I reasoned. But for the most part that would have already been managed after the goblin King had finally been roused for the day. Likely no more than an hour or so before our arrival. My goblin brother-in-law was perhaps the farthest thing from a morning person possible, preferring to rise no earlier than noon if allowed, despite the fact that his husband was usually up at dawn every day. Being early risers was a trait my brothers and I all shared. But I was thankful that my timing was perfect for having returned at just the right time to have skirted running into either of the monarchs of this castle.

The upper floors also had the added advantage of being designed with human comfort in mind. It had taken less than a year for the goblins to realize that their new human King was much taller than any of them, and having door frames and handles set to goblin height was painfully uncomfortable for him (not that he would ever complain of course). They had adjusted many of the lower levels to be more accessible by both races in light of this (though still heavily favoring the smaller goblins). But our private quarters were almost a full foot taller than any of the others, with taller and wider doors, and handles set at almost waist level. The bottoms of the windows came to at least our hips as well, and the ceilings were at least 8 or more feet high. Certainly it was a relief to a stiff back to be able to come here at the end of a long day reaching for things closer to our knees than our hips and finally be able to straighten and relax our spines. I resisted the urge to stretch mine, as I usually did once I reached the top step, and settled with checking over my shoulder to see if Erramun had made it up the last flight of stairs.

He had, though sweat had broken across his brow, and his big eyes looked quite drained and tired. I jerked my head down the hall as he slowly raised his gaze to mine, panting lightly.

“Almost there.” I assured him. “Just down this hall.”

He managed a small grin, affirmative but tired, and nodded. I hoped he could hold out for the last few yards. I didn’t fancy trying to drag him the rest of the way to my chambers. I gestured for him to follow me, and turned to lead again. I had already started to relax, feeling a small, smug sense of accomplishment at having managed to sneak an orc of all things undetected through the castle.

So I nearly squeaked with surprise when we rounded the corner to find the door to my room unexpectedly ajar. And through it, I could just make out the shoulders of an all too familiar frame.

I quickly scrambled backwards, and found myself running into Erramun’s larger form. I didn’t have time to care about my body bumping awkwardly into his. I spun, placing both hands on his chest and giving him an urgent shrug. I thanked whatever god was listening that he responded effectively and without a word. Letting me half-push, half-steer him a few feet back down the hallway, though his eyes widened and his face became a mask of confusion as I did. A cold chill washed down my spine as I heard the familiar click of fine black boots on the tiled floor behind us. Then the creak of my door followed by the soft thunk as he pulled it closed behind him. But as we rounded the corner, I heard a soft feminine hum coming from the opposite direction, and my blood ran cold as well. I yanked the half-orc to a stop, nearly knocking him off balance in the process, spinning and searching the hall frantically. Knowing there would be no way to skirt both parties without detection and searching for the nearest hiding spot. I saw only one choice, short of throwing us both out the window, and decided quickly to utilize it.

I shoved Erramun into a small curtained alcove right at the bend of the rounded hall unceremoniously, and popped in right after. Settling the curtain back into place behind me. It was a tight fit with the big orc, and his shoulders shuffled aside the contents of the cupboard with a soft scuffle. But I found if I pressed my shoulders into his broad chest, I could just manage to keep myself from brushing against the covering curtain and my toes from popping out the bottom. I deftly caught the handle of a displaced broom as it started to topple, righting it and laying it lightly against the wall beside us before it’s fall would alert the pair in the hallway beyond. Then I strained my ears and listened to the fast approaching click of boots as well as the soft hum from the opposite direction.

“Ah, cara Hausa, I hope you are well,” came my brother’s voice in goblinese, and my spine stiffened at the sound nervously, “Have you seen the Princess of late?” I heard him ask after a brief exchange of formalities. “She is not in her rooms.”

“I am sorry, My King,” Came the reply, and I recognized the old head housekeeper Hausa’s distinctive, airy voice, “I have not seen her today, though I believe her Ladies went to town... Should I send the servants to search for her?”

“That won’t be necessary,” He replied, his voice its usual stiff and formal tone, “I am sure she will turn up soon. Thank you, cara Hausa.”

Their voices and footsteps slowly faded back towards the stairwell, and I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief I had withheld before. Allowing me a moment to bring myself back up to speed and assess our situation. I turned around to apologize to Erramun for his decidedly rough treatment... and found myself perfectly planted against his bare chest.

My heart leaped, and my eyes widened by a hair. I couldn’t help craning my neck back to look up at him (it was either that or stare at his well defined pectoral muscles), and found his emerald eyes waiting for me. It was then that I realized, somewhere amid the frantic shuffle, I had become quite neatly tucked against him in the cramped space. His free arm was wrapped around my waist, his broad shoulders hunched around me to better fit us both into the tiny alcove. One of my hands rested lightly on his arm, as if ready to pull him about again if needed, and the other hovered barely a hair away from his bare sternum. I felt a tightness in my chest I couldn’t remember having been there before, and froze in place. Trapped in those vibrant emerald eyes…

After a few skittering beats of my heart, I felt my brain quickly flood back into my skull. My eyes widened a hair more, and I shoved myself away from him. Tangling myself in the curtain behind me and upsetting the cleaning supplies behind him in the process. Nearly falling out into the hallway beyond as he nearly fell over into the wash bucket. I quickly righted myself, pushing the curtain to the side and noisily clearing my throat.

“Ah… S-sorry about that…” I mumbled, swallowing hard as my face flushed dark. I saw him nod slowly out the corner of my eye, otherwise silent as he righted himself. It took me a decidedly long time to remember what we had been doing before that moment. I turned, wrapping my arms about myself. “...This way.”

I skittered down the hall, glancing nervously about. As if my brother might still pop out from any corner. But the final stretch was empty, and I nearly sighed with relief as I shoved open the door to my rooms and quickly ushered Erramun inside. Trying not to remember how wonderfully warm his large arm had felt wrapped around my waist. And strong too, nearly as firm as stone. I quickly shook my head, latching the door behind me and forcing my thoughts to the issue at hand. Well, the bigger issue rather; that I now had successfully smuggled in a bloody and dirty orc into my private quarters.

My chambers had three rooms. The door from the hallway led to a sitting area, with a large fireplace and plush purple couches. The walls were lined with shelves, which were stuffed full of books, tomes, and scrolls. Most of which depicted the many adventures I longed to partake in. Others were atlases, or maps of the surrounding regions. A few were filled with ancient, unsolved mysteries or legends. Some had cultural histories, or descriptions of fantastical creatures and races. On the largest flat wall, I had tacked up an inked map of the world Grier and Niko had gifted me long ago. It was intricately detailed and enchanted so that the squiggly lines denoting the ocean rippled and the mountainous regions had swirly clouds shifting over their peaks. It also looked three dimensional, though it was in fact flat, and I had poked colorful pins and bobbles into the places I most wanted to visit. My desk was set beneath it, with stacks of papers and notes regarding each pin or region as well as small decorative boxes filled with things I had found exploring the castle and woods surrounding it. There was also a small table set before the couches, and a few chests filled with whatever I hadn’t been able to fit elsewhere. Sextants, small carvings, handmade memorabilia from far off lands my brothers and other nobles had gifted me. A few stuck out from the edges of the elegant chests, spilling like treasure onto the floor below.

Beyond the sitting room was my bed chamber, which had little aside from the large bed with thick velvet curtains and a big armoire stuffed to bursting with my clothes. There was also a vanity table, where I kept brushes and perfumes, gems and jewels, and other such things that were mostly left to gather dust. There was also a window seat, surrounded by piles of books I was currently working my way through, and a small balcony where I kept various potted plants. Many were also from far off lands carefully brought for my collection, though I knew my brother kept a far more extensive garden in the glass domed balcony above his chambers.

The final room was the smallest of the three, and contained a single deep pool with a small, crystal encrusted waterfall. It had a small alcove of mirrors set before a raised platform by the door to the bedroom, and a small stone table carved into the wall with a few brushes and other such personal care items. I had filled most of that room with potted plants as well, as sunlight filtered in through stained glass over the partially steepled ceiling. I used to imagine it as a magical lagoon when I was younger, though it had much more practical uses for me now.

I rested my forehead against the door for a moment with relief. Finally feeling a little calmer now that the worst was behind us. When I turned, I found the half-orc looking about curiously. His eyes wide and filled with wonder. I wasn’t sure why. There was nothing particularly special about my rooms. They were smaller than the other members of the family, mostly because I only lived here for part of the year. And also because I rarely spent more than a rainy afternoon in them.

“Sit down,” I ordered him, removing my cloak from my shoulders and draping over the back of the couch, “Let’s see if we can get your wound properly cleaned before infection sets in.”

“Who were they?” He asked as he slowly settled into the indicated seat; an old ottoman at the back of one couch.

“Who was who?” I asked absentmindedly, shuffling some things around in a brief attempt to clean the clutter. I gave up after another moment, simply kicking it all off to the side and gathering up a shallow porcelain basin from on top of one of the chests.

“The people, out there,” He nodded to the door and the hallway beyond, “They spoke funny. It sounded like Tlaloc, but it was all wrong.”

I hesitated, debating whether or not to tell him the truth for a moment. “They were speaking goblinese. The woman was Hausa, the head housekeeper for the Royal family.” I explained finally, “... The man was King Nikostratus…. What’s tlaloc?” I asked, quickly looking to change the subject.

Erramun chewed on his lip for a moment. “Eh? Oh… That’s what orcs speak.” I felt his eyes following me as I gathered some linens into the basin next. “... You said King Nicktosansus?”

I couldn’t suppress a small giggle. “Nikostratus.” I corrected him, collecting a pitcher of water in my free hand as I balanced the basin on my opposite hip.

He grunted, shaking his head. “Why do all the Kings here have such big names?” He grumbled. “King Vale-whatsits, King Nitostrawsus.”

“King Valerianus and King Nikostratus.” I corrected him good naturedly. “And that’s probably because they are brothers, I would think.” I carefully set the basin on the seat beside him, then went over to hoist a small side table and carry over. “Big long names are a bit of a tradition in the family.”

“Hmmm, seems silly.” He returned. “By the time I finish saying their names and titles, I could have said much more important things.”

I almost laughed. “You sound like Grier.”

“Grier?” He asked curiously.

I kicked myself internally for the slip, pursing my lips slightly as I set the table beside him and moved the basin to its top. “... King Grier, I should say.” I glanced at him out the corner of my eye. “That’s King Nikostratus’ husband. The goblin King.”

“So he is the goblin Princess’ father?” His voice reflected his piqued interest with a lighter tone. “I thought King Valer-whatsits might be her father, but he’s not a goblin, and they say he is her brother.”

I hesitated again, pouring some water into the basin and dropping one of the linens in. Exactly how much should I share? At what point would he figure it out?

“Ah… it’s… complicated.” I offered finally, ringing out the cloth distractedly. “But their father is dead.” I thumbed the cloth for a moment. “Long dead. It's just the three of them now.”

Erramun snorted, shaking his head. “Three Kings? There are too many Kings!” He complained. “Just tell me which one I need to challenge for the Princess.”

My head snapped over to him in surprise. “Challenge??”

He nodded eagerly, and the light in his eyes spreading from a broad smile over his lips. “Yes! After I convince her to marry me, I must defeat her father in combat to win the Princess. Though I suppose one of these Kings will have to do.” He leaned back, seeming to mull that over. “I think a goblin would be easiest to best, but there would be no real challenge in it.”

Anger flared up in me. “What makes you think you can just win her?” I snapped. “Is the Princess just some trophy to you??”

Now it was his turn to look surprised. “That is just the way of things.” He argued. “A man finds his partner, then has to prove he would be a good husband. The best way to do that is to defeat their father in combat.” He nodded assuredly. “That way they both know he is strong enough to-”

“That sounds stupid.” I cut him off crossly, putting my hands on my hips and scowling at him.

He frowned back at me, his heavy brow scrunching together. “That is the way of things!”

“For orcs, maybe!” I shot back. “But you can’t just carry off whomever you like! Just muscle your way into a marriage and force someone’s hand!”

That gave him pause, and he looked me up and down. We were almost perfectly eye level with him sitting. I watched him chew his lip again, seeming to think it over quietly.

“... This is not how goblins do it?”

I scoffed again. “Absolutely not!” I snapped. “Nor humans!”

He fell silent again. And I glared at him for a long, angry moment before tossing up my hands with a frustrated tch. I stomped over to another chest, kicking it open and digging through it for a moment.

“... How do I win the goblin Princess then?” He asked after a little while.

I shot him a scalding look over my shoulder. “You don’t. The Princess is not for sale, nor for winning. She doesn’t want to marry anyone. Ever. Period. End of discussion.” I slammed the chest shut, having not found what I was looking for yet, and stomped past him over to the next. “So after I wrap up your stupid cut, you’d best shove off. Agreed?”

I was stopped short as his big hand came out. Catching my arm and stilling me. I was so surprised, my eyebrows flew up, and I looked at him with wide eyes. His face was soft, recalcitrant. He chewed on his thick bottom lip for another moment before finally looking up at me with those dazzling emerald eyes.

“I am sorry, Gana,” He told me, his thick voice heavier with his sullen apology, “I did not mean to upset you…” He grunted, giving my arm a gentle tug. Pulling me a step closer to him before I had fully realized what he was doing. “If this was an orc, I would better know what to do. I could take them hunting with me, or maybe cook a beast I had killed myself.” I looked down at him, his broad chin craned up slightly to keep our eyes locked. “I do not know how to impress a King, or a Princess.” He scoffed slightly, finally releasing my arm and looking away. “I have not even met her yet and I have already failed.”

I rubbed at my arm where his hand had been, frozen in place with my confusion. “... It doesn’t matter.” I told him, a bit bitterly. “Like I said… The Princess isn’t interested in getting married.”

I turned and walked more quietly over to the chests. Pulling it open more carefully and digging through its contents. The silence stretched for a long, strained moment. I pulled out a few glass jars of healing balm, laying them on the floor by my knees as I put the other things back into place.

“.... What is she interested in, then?”

I couldn’t suppress a soft laugh, shaking my head. “So now you want to know more about her?” I scoffed, standing with my bounty and making my way back over. “Maybe that was something you should have thought of before you decided to marry her?”

He shrugged his big green shoulders noncommittally, then winced as it stretched his wound. “I mean, I didn’t think it was important…”

I raised a brow at him, dropping the supplies on the bench beside him. “It’s not important to know anything about the person you were going to spend the rest of your life with?”

He frowned, his thick lip wobbling about his small tusks as he seemed to chew that over. “I never thought of it like that…”

“How did you think of it then?” I asked, moving over to the basin once more. “Did you think you would see her for the first time and just… fall in love?”

Erramun fell silent, his brow furrowing deeply again. I soaked the cloth, wringing it out briefly before turning to him. I was surprised to find him still quiet, obviously lost in thought. I cocked one hip to the side, looking him up and down. His emerald green eyes glanced over at my movement.

“Don’t think too hard,” I advised, “You’ll make smoke come out of your ears.”

The big fellow gave a grunt that heaved the entirety of his torso up and down, then shook his head. I watched him for another moment, then glanced down at the wet cloth in my hands. Then back at him. My entire face starting to grow hot. After another tense moment, I tossed the cloth back into the basin.

“It’s no use, you’re filthy.” I told him irritatedly.

He cocked one large bushy brow up. “Does this bother you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Besides the fact that you stink, I mean that one measly little cloth is not going to be enough to clean all…” I hesitated, my hand halfway through gesturing over his muscular torso. I cleared my throat. “... That…”

Erramun gave me a dopey grin, leaning on his palms at the edge of his seat. “Perhaps I am too much a challenge for you then?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again, pretending my cheeks weren’t flushing dark at his words. I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. Scowling at him.

“You’ll have to bathe.” I jerked my head to the back room. “You know how to I hope?”

He gave a growl, then jerked himself clumsily to his feet. Forcing me to stagger back a step or two to avoid bumping into him as he did. I quickly rebalanced myself, letting my scowl deepen as I had to tilt my head back to look up at him now.

“I think I can manage.” He mused, then glanced over at the door.

“Good.” I grumbled, crossing my arms and looking off to the side to avoid staring at his broad chest again. “You do that. I’ll see if I can find you something to wear.”

“Something to wear?” He echoed, surprised.

“Definitely part parrot.” I snipped at him. “Yes, fool orc. Something to wear. Your skirt is filthy, and you stand out like a sore thumb as you are.”

He seemed to consider this, rubbing his furs between a thumb and finger. “And that would be a bad thing, yes? ... Your men do not wear their skins as this?”

I shook my head. “No. But,” I paused, looking him over, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find anything big enough…” I slipped past him, walking over to the door to the bathing rooms and sliding it open. “I don’t suppose you can avoid drowning for now while I go look for something?”

His grin returned, and I stiffened slightly at the sight of it. “I think I can manage.” He replied again. Then tilted his head to the side. “... Will you be long?”

It took me longer than I cared to admit to find my breath again. The way he asked… made it sound almost hopeful. I swallowed the dryness from my throat, shrugging my shoulders.

“I make no promises.” I returned, as airy as I could manage, and he chuckled. Sluggishly striding over and pausing at the opposite side of the door. I saw him glance in briefly, before returning his attention to me.

“I will wait for you then, Gana. As long as you need.”

I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding as he slipped past me into the rooms. I intended to turn and head back out to scour the Royal quarters for clothes large enough to fit an orc. But couldn’t help lingering an extra moment as I watched him unfasten the strap to his pauldron. He rubbed at his wounded side as he dropped the scanty armor onto the stone floor, then glanced over his shoulder at me. I quickly pretended I had merely been double checking the towel situation by the door. Turning to make my way back out when his voice came once more and gave me pause.

“... When you return, perhaps we can speak more about what the Princess is like?”

The sliding door made a satisfying snap as I forcibly shut it behind me.

UPDATE: Part Four HERE

#Burdened by the Stars #slow burn #frenemies #angst #monster romance #regency romance #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #orc #half-orc #orc lover #orc boyfriend #orc x human #terato #exophilia

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ofjays · 5 years

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hello all ! underneath the cut you will find my baby jay’s intro ! <3

( i may consistently add to this but i will definitely post an update if i make any changes! )

THE BEGINNING

so jay is the daughter of nick and jordan from the great gatsby

she was an Accident

nick and jordan got drunk one night and oops they Did the Do and then jay became a thing !!

when jordan found out she was having a girl she was ... excited ? but not really

like in all honesty jordan was kind of devastated

she was worried mostly about her career and knew having a baby would throw a wrench into her being able to travel for tournaments

like if it were up to jordan she wouldn’t have any children

nick felt almost guilty that he had a child with jordan since he didn’t truly love her, but he loved his child more than anything

the first words to come out of nick’s mouth once he saw his new daughter was “we have to name her jay.”

and jordan ofc was like “wtf why”

and nick was like “please, i want to name her jay.”

and jordan just ended up conceding and was like “alright fine i guess”

bc does nick totally have feelings for gatsby yes he does

CHILDHOOD

jay didn’t start talking until rather late - she was mute up until the age of four

she was incredibly intelligent; definitely a prodigy child

jay learned to read at three years old and was reading full chapter books by the time she was in kindergarten

she was really ahead of everyone in school - like really ahead

and that caused her to be bullied because she tried to “teach” all of the other kids

and while she thought she was helping she had an incredibly judgmental tone about it

jay had very few friends and was seen as incredibly mysterious; she practically never spoke, and always had the best manners

she was always kind but incredibly anxious

nick was amazed as he noticed his daughter blossoming into a Mini Gatsby for the most part

she was incredibly hopeful and just had a heart of gold with the best intentions

her mother did teach her how to play golf

and nick showed her the green light at the edge of the dock and how important it was to him

and that’s when jay realized her father didn’t love her mother all that much

she constantly asked questions about “uncle gatsby”, seeing how her father’s face twisted with sadness

RELATIONSHIPS

jay’s relationship with her parents was pretty good for the most part

she was definitely closer with her father than her mother

her mother was still annoyed that her career was shattered so was constantly angry at jay for the littlest things

but of course nick came to jay’s aid most of the time

but because of her mother’s anger, jay has problems with anxiety

like if someone raises their voice, she will flinch or start to shake

jay wants to make friends, but her judgmental qualities and anxiety stop her frequently

CEDAR SPRINGS

when jay’s memories were wiped and she was brought to cedar springs, she lived rather blissfully

she was enrolled into college and is now a psychology major on a pre-med track

but she can’t help feeling that something is ... wrong.

like she looks at her ring and feels this energy from it that makes her feel incomplete

PERSONALITY

jay is very judgmental without meaning to be - like when she first meets you, she will look you up and down

and it’s not that she’s trying to be mean

she literally is just curious but in a bad way

like she constantly looks to make mental schemes of people but then ends up coming across as bitchy

but honestly she is really kind

like it takes a lot for her to open up since her anxiety makes her prefer staying introverted

she is incredibly intelligent and knows many useless facts

and because of her ability to soak up knowledge, she has a part time job as a tutor on campus!

#awakenings:intro #{ about }

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trustandblasters · 5 years

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Trust Comic Funfacts

(Aka I lost all my progress on the next page, I just pulled a 60/hr work week, I feel like death but I still wanna give you guys content)

So basically a bunch of random little tidbits for the Trust Comic version that may or may not show up in comic.

* Most monsters currently alive do not actually remember the outside world anymore, and many of their phrases/idioms are either relics of their parents or are entirely new for the underground. Those that are still alive and still remember the outside are King Asgore, Toriel, Grillby, Nora, Gerson, Bertram, Frank, Gnash, Rudy, Napstablook, and Flowey. Plus three others I cant talk about yet.

* Grillby eventually builds a fence in the backyard of his house to give the boys a secure place to play when the canine unit is to busy to keep an eye out. He had to extend it when he discovered Papyrus could easily jump over it. Twice. He gave up after that but installed a door for them to use instead of just hoping a fence.

* Nora canonly beat the fuck out of Berdley's mother to get custody of him when he was in his early teens. He had managed to get an internship with Nora since Noelle was transfering and during his initial training Nora picked up that his mother wasnt a very good person. Specifically she was an emotionally abusive Stage Mom.

So Nora beat her over the head with her can when the bird came to berate Berdley at the archive and then used the fact she is technically royalty to strong arm Berdley's mother into giving her full custody. Berdley has recently tried reconnecting with his birth mother with.... no success. He feels he probably turned out to be a much better person because of this.

* Nora knows about the existence of the Dark World, but hasn't gone there herself yet. Elci doesnt know what the Dark World is but has been there and assumes it was a dream. (Related, Asgore and Toriel both know of it as well, with both having visited on occasion before being sealed in the Underground)

* Noelle visits Snowdin a lot, mostly to visit her retired father. She's friends with the Nice Cream Guy and Snowy.

* Nora used to actually go out pretty frequently to Hotland to visit the restaurant in the MTT Resort and also the Royal Scientist Lab. She sends Berdley to get her takeout now and avoids the lab.

* Grillby owns a house with multiple bedrooms originally for his extended family so they would have a place to stay if needed be.

* All the other Fire Elementals thing Grillby is weird for liking cold environments like Snowdin, but he genuinely likes the way the chill feels. Also he likes the aesthetic of a winter town.

* Despite being a fire elemental that genuinely likes spicy foods, Grillby never stocks or prepares any items with Jalapeno in them. There's been lots of theories as to why but when Dogressa asked him (due to having a huge craving for jalepeno poppers) he admitted it's because his spouse was allergic, so he couldn't bring himself to stock them in his business.

* On a related note, some recipies he uses were specifically designed to his spouse's preferences, which still stands despite the two not seeing each other in over a century.

* When Sans and Papyrus became more comfortable at Grillby's house, they would start to explore at night. Since locked doors made them nervous, Grillby put all the dangerous cleaning chemicals in high cabinets that they couldn't reach and had wire lights installed on the ground level so they could see in their late night execution. On days that Sans wasn't doing so well, Grillby would hide snacks and sweets for the boys to find during the night.

* No one actually locks their doors in Snowdin, and when the kids are out playing it's not actually uncommon for them to all burst into someone's house for a quick water break before heading back out. If Grillby's is open it is usually his restaurant thou.

* As they get older, Sans and Papyrus do take up the odd jobs here and there. Usually in exchange for some sort of sweet. The only stipulation they have is the job has to keep them in Snowdin.

For the most part, Sans just helps out at Grillby's, usually bussing tables, doing dishes, or serving the occasional drink. Papyrus is far to high energy to stay in one place for long, so usually he is out with the canine unit learning to do Search and Rescue. Sometimes the towns folk will give him the 'job' of delivery boy. Which is usually just them asking him to run a letter or small box across town and drop it off somewhere random. There is usually nothing in the letter/box, it's just to help him burn off excess energy.

* Papyrus got so scared of "Santa" the first time he came to town that he cried and his in Grillby's coat. Sans nearly blasted "Santa" for it, but the three are cool now.

* papyrus has bitten Nora's tail about three times. The first time she accidentally launched him in the air by reflex, which Papyrus thought was the best thing ever. She only allowed him to do it two more times before stopping him.

* Asgore often sends tea to his friends as a gift. Usually it is Golden Flower Tea, but he does have several plants to make preferred blends such as the harvest moon blend for Nora and a triple mint blend for Noelle.

* Papyrus once said he found a talking flower that Grillby told him was an Echo Flower, assuming it was one of the echo flowers that were kept in the bar or at Dogamy and Dogressa's place. He didn't think much of it when Papyrus said it was a different color.

* Grillby does have PTSD from the war, though he had received treatment and still does sometimes see a therapist for certain stressors.

* monsters have an odd concept of Time due to being underground. There are actually three areas that one can see the sky outside the underground in some capacity (the Ruins, above the Core that is to high to reach due to being the very top of mount Ebott, and an exit way that can be seen from the barrier in the castle at New Home that only Asgore has access to). Due to this, their ability to tell what time it is, is very skewed and relies heavily on magical 'sundials' invented long ago along with repaired human technology that comes from the trash dump.

Due to Asgore being the only one to actually be able to see the sun rise and fall outside, there is a sort of system in place that was erected a few years ago where a device was placed above the core that could measure the sunlight and give an approx reading of the time based on that, which was then projected onto special screens around the Underground. The oldest monsters have tracked the date as best they could, and sometimes compare it to soggy newspapers from the trash heap or when they turn on some sort of tech that can still connect to limited wifi to update the date and time. This information is also projected onto those screens.

* Sans, Papyrus, Elci, Undyne, and Alphys play DnD sometimes after Alphys found some books in a box in the trash heap. Alphys tends to be the DM but will switch with Sans if need be.

#comic wizard speaks #undertale #baby blaster au #i havent picked their dnd info yet #maybe ill upload it when i have the time

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years

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Swift As Karma (Part 2)

I decided to continue this one since a lot of people liked it and I'm still getting reviews on it.

Though chapters might be shorter and updates might be less frequent this time around. I do temp jobs so my schedule is constantly changing and it looks like this month will be a busier one.

Summary: Azula as the Avatar. After killing Aang, his Avatar abilities transfer to Azula. She fears that Ozai will use her as a human weapon or kill her.

Since it has been literally a year here’s a link to part 1; https://archiveofourown.org/works/15252303/chapters/35377077#workskin

The noise of the party was much too loud. It left her with an impression as if they were the guests were trying to coax her secrets to the forefront. Ozai sat himself at the head of the table, watching her pick at a rather exquisite dish. Her appetite had well and diminished under the stress, but she forced the food down anyhow, if for no other reason than because it was expected of her.

Her only moment of relief was Ozai turning to one of many admirals for conversation. It was a fleeting moment being as he launched into a spiel about how she had taken down the Avatar. About how powerful she was; she swallowed, he didn’t know just how correct he was.

Her father grew invested in the conversation and she took the opportunity to wander away from him.

She made her way to the gardens, though still bustling with people, at least she had fresh air. She stole herself away in one of the less populated corners places; a shadowed portion of the yard with a curiously neglected golden fountain. Azula perched herself upon it and buried her face in her knees.

She could still feel it, the angry vibration within her spirit. It hadn’t let up since Aang went cold. She shivered to herself.

She wasn’t sure if the sickly feeling came from a hoard of enraged Avatars or from it finally settling in that she had committed her first combat kill. Her first kill in general. She had never killed a man before, she hadn’t exactly planned to.

She didn’t want to if she hadn’t had the need. Not that she didn’t anticipate having things come down to that. No, that, she supposed, was inevitable for as much as she was involved in the war. What she hadn’t anticipated was the weight of the guilt. She had expected to be able to cast it aside just the way she did every other awful thing that she’d ever done.

But this? This was different. She had woefully underestimated the toll it’d take. Every bit the child she was, the permanence of a murder...the realness of it, never occured to her. She hugged her knees closer.

It felt wrong to feel sorry for herself. A murder had no right to pity nor sympathy.

Her mind shifted; perhaps she ought to tell her father and let him kill her.

It would be fitting.

It would be justice.

Azula clutched the edge of the fountain.

“Azula?” TyLee called.

Azula looked up.

TyLee met her gaze and tilted her head. “Azula, are you okay?” She put her hands on her hips. “What are you doing out here, alone? This is your victory party.”

Is it really a victory? The thought remained in her mind, unspoken. “I’m not exactly a party person.” Azula replied instead. “I wish that father would have just bought me some new armor or something…” she trailed off. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole story. But she couldn’t go a whole conversation without slipping at least one lie in, “I’m fine, TyLee.”

She followed TyLee back into the party.

Her father was there waiting.

She wondered if the man had sent TyLee off to find her.

“You’re just on time.” Ozai greeted. “I was hoping that you’d entertain our guests with a firsthand account of how the Avatar cycle died.”

She felt sick all over again, a mess of nerves and guilt and dread. In no condition to give a boastful speech. But he looked so proud, she had never seen him this pleased with her before. If only the energy had just dispersed.

Why couldn’t the cycle have just died with Avatar Aang?

With a hand firmly on her shoulder, Ozai accompanied her to the front of the crowd. Zuko, already there, spares her a sideways glance. What it conveyed; envy? Concern? Suspicious gratitude? It could have been any of the three or all of them at once.

“Go on, tell them, let them know what to write in the history books.”

Azula nodded. “It was rather easy. Too easy, really.” She paused. “I thought that the Avatar would have put up more of a fight. The Water Tribe peasant give me a harder time, actually.” She decided that she could give Zuzu some of the glory. “I suppose that I couldn’t have done it without a little help from dear Zuzu.”

“Just a little?” He rolled his eyes.

It drew a laugh from her audience.

“A little.” She confirmed with a size indicative hand gesture. “We fought the pair for a while; sometimes I would fight the Avatar and other times I’d be fighting the waterbender. Eventually, while Zuzu was keeping the waterbender busy, I had to hold my own against the Avatar.” She paused, feeling dizzy. The hum of ‘her’ past lives--though silent--was somehow growing louder. “He was going into the Avatar State, it was incredible really. His tattoos, those arrows, they were glowing. And his eyes…” she wondered what it would look like if she went into the Avatar State. Likely a brief moment of glowing eyes and then searing pain as the past Avatars and their combined energies fought against her own. As they seemed to be doing in current. She pushed on with her speech. “His power was, humblingly impressive.” She admitted. “But I struck him down.” She left out that she had hit him from behind, as well as it had worked it wasn’t the most noble way. Her head hurt so terribly. “I took that glow from his eyes with one bolt.” She mustred a tone of pride that she couldn’t truly feel. “I slayed the Avatar.”

And now they were slaying her.

The energies became overwhelming.

She toppled.

#Avatar #Azula #Fanfiction #Avatar Azula

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taexual · 6 years

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Secrets [7] / BamBam x Reader

OTHER PARTS: 01 - Got7 Mafia AU / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 - the end

With BamBam’s return, Jackson is forced to retreat into the background as both of you realize that no matter how strong the bond between you seemed before, nothing is going to be the same now that there’s three of you.

Pairing: Mafia AU!BamBam x Reader / Reader x Jackson

Warnings: angst

Words: 3.8k

my apologies for the long wait! i hope to update more frequently from now on!

ALSO, if you asked me to tag you on this and I haven’t, please let me know! I don’t always get notifications for your comments, so please dm me or send me an ask!

It was hard to believe that mere moments passed from the time you pulled away from Jackson to the time you noticed BamBam standing at the far end of the hallway inside of your house. Time seemed to slow down, contrary to the thoughts that erupted inside of your brain as soon as you saw your husband. It felt like you and him were looking at each other for an eternity and if it wasn’t for the tirade of shots someone fired that returned time to its normal speed, you would have been stuck reliving the second your eyes met BamBam for the rest of your life.

But as soon as you heard four shots fired by someone behind you, BamBam – having stood tall just seconds ago – helplessly fell to the floor. The very center of a shooting was not the place where you imagined to see your husband again.

It took you and Jackson a few seconds to understand what had happened, but as soon as you did, both of you simultaneously started to move. You – with your heart attempting to break out of your chest – ran towards BamBam, while Jackson – seeming as confident as ever – fired his gun at the men who had just shot at your husband.

“Bam!” you yelled, your voice suddenly hoarse as BamBam struggled to inhale without groaning in pain. “Don’t move! I’m calling the ambulance.”

“Y/n,” he breathed as you got your phone out and tried to assess the situation at the same time.

You saw that one bullet had struck the side of the staircase, and another bullet was stuck in the marble floor tile of the hallway, which had to mean that only two of the initial four shots might have reached their target – BamBam, — who was now attempting to flip around, so he could lie on his back instead of his stomach.

“Don’t move, please,” you whispered shakily, the shock and the adrenaline helping you keep your mind in place as you dialed 911 and told them your address all in one quick breath.

“Y/n,” BamBam whispered again as you placed your phone on the floor once the call was finished and took his hand, trying not to look at the blood that started to gather on his gray sweater, on the left side of his lower abdomen and on his left shoulder.

Fortunately, he wasn’t shot in any places that would cause his immediate death – you knew that much – but he was still shot.

“Try not to talk,” you told him, feeling the way your heart was beating wildly in your chest, not just at the sight of him in so much pain, but at the feeling of his hand in yours. The touch was meant to comfort him but you had a feeling it provided a lot more consolation for you.

“I’m sorry,” BamBam continued, his voice weak. “I never meant to abandon you like that.”

You could still hear shots being fired in the background and, out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jackson fighting the two remaining Ito’s minions alone, with no one there to help him. You wanted to help but you knew you would just get in his way. And there was absolutely no way you were going to release BamBam’s hand.

“You didn’t abandon me,” you replied, trying to remain calm although, as adrenaline slowly wore off, you could already feel the lump forming in your throat.

“No, I did,” BamBam insisted, attempting to sit up but hissing out loud all of a sudden.

“Bam, please,” you asked, desperately needing him to stop moving so he wouldn’t bleed as much.

It’s been just a couple of days since you’ve seen him last, but they were filled with so much pain that you thought it felt more like you haven’t seen him in years. On top of it all, you reunited with your husband right after almost you almost kissed his best friend – in order to ensure your husband’s safety but still – and then had to watch your husband get shot. You could not wrap your mind around this sequence of events.

“I never meant for that to happen,” BamBam continued, his breathing getting heavier by the second. “I’m so sorry I never gave you a happy ending.”

Tears immediately pooled in your eyes as you tried to shake your head, clutching his hand tightly in both of yours. “I don’t need an ending.”

Almost as soon as you said this, the shots stopped and you heard Jackson run towards you both. The sudden tension between the three of you was almost visible, but you had bigger problems to worry about right now.

It was almost funny, really, how just seconds ago, you despised every thought about BamBam that dared to invade your brain, and now you were clutching his hand tightly in yours, tears falling from your eyes as you prayed for the ambulance to get here in time.

“It’s going to be okay,” Jackson said and you were surprised to feel yourself relax slightly at the sound of his usually husky voice. In the short time that you knew him, his voice managed to become a beacon of comfort for you. “It doesn’t seem like they shot any vital organs. You’re going to be okay, man.”

“Is Ito..?” BamBam tried to ask but you squeezed his hand, wordlessly telling him to save his energy.

“He’s dead,” Jackson confirmed, the ability to understand his best friend with just a glance was still here, despite the tension between them. “You killed him.”

“And the rest of them?” you asked, afraid to look at Jackson in case the emotions you felt when you inspected his sleeping features earlier, would return.

“They’re dead,” Jackson said. “All of them. It’s just us. I’ll deal with the bodies after Bam gets to the hospital, you have nothing to worry about.”

“Jackson…” BamBam whispered, blood from his mouth painting his pale pink lips bright red. “Thank you.”

Looking away from him, Jackson shook his head. “You have nothing to thank me for, man. I was just trying to do my job.”

You heard the guilty undertones in Jackson’s voice and that forced you to avoid BamBam’s eyes as you carefully wiped the blood from his lips, already hearing the sirens in the distance.

As you waited for the ambulance, you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t do anything wrong. That every single decision you made was on behalf of protecting BamBam in one way or the other. If Ito had found out that Jackson was here because BamBam had asked him to look after you, he may have tortured you for information and you didn’t know if you would have held on for a very long time.

You needed to make sure BamBam was safe, wherever he was. You wouldn’t have kissed Jackson under different circumstances.

Stupidly, you made the mistake of raising your eyes to glance at the man next to you. As soon as you did, you realized that you may have come up with reasons that justified the kiss you and Jackson almost shared, but nothing could have justified your feelings as he slept in the same bed with you, radiating protectiveness that lulled you to sleep.

Similarly, nothing could justify the fact that you gave up on your relationship, however strained it was. BamBam presented you with the choice of a divorce – the easy way out – and you went for it.

As you watched the paramedics rush into your house through the back door - the dead bodies of Ito and his friends out of their sight - and lift BamBam up to lie him down on a stretcher, you couldn’t believe your relationship with this man meant this little to you. You couldn’t believe that in a time of despair, you forgot to seek comfort in the memories of him.

And yet despite the crushing guilt, it was Jackson’s embrace you turned to again. It was his chest you cried against, it was his arms that held you tightly, and it was his raspy voice that whispered reassurances to you.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told you, bringing one of his hands through your hair as the paramedics adjusted the oxygen mask on BamBam’s face. “He’s going to survive. You know he is.”

But you weren’t crying about the fact that BamBam was badly injured. You knew he was strong. He was so much stronger than you. He was going to fight through this and come out a winner. A survivor.

You were crying because you were too stubborn. Too prideful. You were crying because you didn’t do enough – for your husband and for your relationship, – and it could have been too late now. You were crying for selfish reasons, too; because there was not a single way that would have allowed you to save your relationship with BamBam and maintain the bond between you and Jackson, all at the same time.

BamBam was going to survive. But you could still lose him.

BamBam lost consciousness on his way to the hospital and he did not regain it even after the doctors performed a potentially life-saving surgery on him.

“It could take time,” the head surgeon warned you as he found you pacing next to BamBam’s hospital bed, after the nurses wheeled him here after the surgery. “He’s lost a lot of blood. We’ve done everything we could but it’s up to him now.”

“Is there a chance that he won’t wake up?” you asked, biting your lip nervously. “I-I need you to tell me that there isn’t.”

The surgeon sighed. “I might be a good surgeon. A great one, even. But I’m not God.”

That did not ease your worrying but it answered your question and you nodded sadly.

“For what it’s worth, I think he will wake up soon,” the surgeon said, a gentle, comforting smile on his face. “He’s got lots of things waiting for him when he does.”

Not finding it necessary to voice your doubts about that statement, you smiled gratefully at the doctor and watched him exit BamBam’s hospital room, leaving you – the only conscious person in the room – alone.

Sighing as the heavy silence settled all around you, you sat down on the uncomfortable wooden chair next to BamBam’s bed and rested your hand next to his, gasping lightly when you felt how cold his hand was. Taking it in yours, you desperately attempted to warm it up as if your future with him depended on the warmth of his hands.

You stayed in this position – next to his bed, his hand in yours – for so long, it had gotten dark outside. You didn’t even notice it, having crawled inside your mind and locked yourself up in there. In fact, if it wasn’t for Jackson, who entered the room, accidentally slamming the door shut and consequently, startling you, you were certain you would have remained frozen next to BamBam’s unconscious body.

“Hey,” Jackson said quietly, trying to soothe your terror-filled eyes after his grand entrance. “There must be a draught here, I-I’m sorry I scared you.”

“No, that’s okay,” you said, slowly releasing BamBam’s hand because, instead of having warmed him up, you realized your own hand was just as freezing now. “What were you doing?”

“Taking care of the house,” Jackson replied. “I got rid of the bodies. I cleaned. It looks like nothing happened. Well, except for the bullet stuck in your floor. I think you’ll have to retile to get rid of that.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, already feeling your mind detach from reality again.

“How is he?” Jackson asked, nodding his head in the direction of BamBam’s bed.

Automatically, you glanced at your husband and the oxygen mask on his face, hiding his facial features and providing him with the oxygen that he could not attain himself.

“The doctor said it’s up to him if he’ll wake up,” you replied, feeling tears sting your eyes as soon as you recalled your previous conversation with the surgeon. “He lost a lot of blood. He’s weak. The surgeon isn’t a God. Not much we can do. The usual.”

Jackson listened to the way your voice rose with every sentence, and eventually, he dared to take a step closer to you and squat down in front of your chair, so he was at your eye-level.

“Y/n, I’m sorry,” he said softly. “Did you need me to be here?”

You looked at him and felt a tear slide down your cheek before you could blink it away. It was BamBam who needed Jackson here, even if he didn’t realize it. But you needed him here, too.

“You know what I find the most frustrating about this?” you said, instead of answering Jackson. “Myself.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I gave up on him,” you said, allowing another few tears to fall from your eyes. “Just earlier this day. I gave up on him completely as if I never imagined he’d be back. And now I’m waiting for him to wake up. To come back to me. Again.”

“He wanted you to let him go,” Jackson said, trying to sound compassionate, even though he truly struggled to find the words he could say to make you feel better. “You did everything he asked you to do. I’m sure he didn’t know he was going to be back, either.”

“Yeah,” you nodded sadly. “Why did he come back, though? Why now?”

Jackson cleared his throat, standing back up. “He came back for you.”

You watched him in confusion. “What?”

“Yeah, I’m assuming,” Jackson said, shrugging his shoulders, and avoiding your eyes for some reason. “He didn’t like the note you wrote him, I could see that. It must have taken some time for him to consider this but I’m guessing he came back to fix everything with you.”

“B-but it’s dangerous for him,” you said, still beyond confused.

“Well, Ito’s dead now,” Jackson said. “Maybe Bam has a plan.”

You could notice the bitterness in his voice as he said this. It must have been one of the first times that Jackson was in the dark about BamBam’s fight plans. Another secret added to the evergrowing pile of things they never told each other.

Biting your lip, you waited a few more seconds – mostly because you needed to gather the courage but also because you needed Jackson to release the breath you saw him hold – before carefully asking him, “How are you?”

“Me?” Jackson turned to look at you, surprised. “W-what do you mean?”

“Bam was your friend,” you said and then straightened in your seat. “Is. Bam is your friend.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Jackson decided to say. “It’s you I’m more worried about. Do you—”

“Jackson,” you cut him off as soon as you noticed the way he tried to turn the topic back around to you. “I asked you about you.”

“I’m fine,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “They didn’t shoot me.”

You sighed, shaking your head. Of course, he was going to play dumb until you asked him outright. He already struggled to open up about the work he and BamBam did together, there was no way he was going to open up about how he was feeling now that they weren’t working together anymore.

“Are you hurt?” you asked him. “And, you know, I don’t mean physically. I mean, you didn’t know that BamBam was going to come back and you—”

“I know what you mean,” he interrupted you, staying quiet for another minute before finally continuing, “It kind of sucks that I can’t help him. Maybe he thinks I never did, but he’s just too polite to tell me, and now he’s finally distancing himself from me.”

“He’s not distancing himself from you. He’s… distancing himself from everyone,” you disagreed.

Jackson hung his head miserably. “Yeah. Maybe he is.”

Sighing again, you tried to find what to say next but then decided that silence might have been the best answer. So, you and Jackson remained quiet for a few minutes, the only sound in the room being the beeping of BamBam’s heart rate monitor. Somehow, just like Jackson’s shallow breaths the night before, the gentle beeping in accordance to BamBam’s heartbeat also soothed your anxiety.

“You know,” Jackson suddenly said. “When Bam wakes up… he’s not going to be mad at you.”

“What?”

“Well, I just saw how uncomfortable you looked when you saw him again,” Jackson explained, looking away from you. “And the guilt you feel about supposedly abandoning him... I assumed you were afraid he was going to be mad about… everything.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Well, he is going to be mad.”

“I just said he won’t be—”

“No, but he should be,” you interrupted him. “I gave up on our relationship. I left him alone when he needed me the most.”

“He…” Jackson started but then took a deep breath, choosing to take a moment and sort his words out again before speaking. “I don’t know whom he needed, but I do know that he wanted to protect you. Being away from him because that’s what he thought was best - that couldn’t have been easy for you. If anything, he’s going to be apologizing to you when he wakes up.”

You swallowed, looking at the floor. “It should really be me apologizing.”

Jackson sighed. “Me too. I have lots of things to apologize for.”

“What things?” you asked, raising your head. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I—” he cut himself off, leaning against the windowsill across the room from you.

He couldn’t continue when he realized that both of you were carefully tiptoeing around the important topic: the fact that you and Jackson touched the thin line between faithfulness and infidelity, between loyalty and betrayal together. Your separate actions were worthy of an apology, sure. But you weren’t exactly innocent when you were together, either.

You didn’t do anything unfaithful just to spite BamBam for wanting a divorce. You were not like that and you didn’t think very highly of the people who were like that. And, clearly, Jackson had high morals as well.

And yet, as BamBam lied in the hospital bed, struggling to fight for consciousness, you analyzed every single thought you’ve had since he left, every single action you took, and every single time you realized your mind was wandering to Jackson more and more, and you did not do anything about it.

“You should go home,” Jackson said suddenly, finally breaking the sad, buzzing silence around you. “You’ve been here the whole day. You need to rest, too.”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’m not leaving.”

“You’re tired, Y/n,” Jackson insisted. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m not leaving him,” you repeated, your stern voice surprising not just him but you as well. “I already gave up on him once. If I want him to forgive me for that, I need to stay here.”

“Look, just get some sleep. I’ll stay here, watch over him for you,” he continued.

You shook your head. “No. I’m never leaving him.”

Your statement – whether you meant it or not – sounded too ambiguous for Jackson to say anything else. He felt heat spread across his face as he realized what he was asking you to do. Of course, you’d never leave BamBam.

“Okay,” he said, his eyes set on the door. “I’ll go find a nurse to get an update on his health, okay? I’ll, uh—I’ll be right back.”

You nodded but you needed him to hear something else before he left.

“Jackson,” you called out as soon as he reached the door of BamBam’s hospital room.

“Yeah?” he responded, looking down.

“You didn’t betray him.”

Slowly, Jackson finally allowed his eyes to meet yours, just so he could give you a small – yet somehow sad – smile. “Neither did you, Y/n.”

Hearing your name from his lips felt nice and that contributed to the fact that, despite hearing him say that, you still felt guilty. The worries, the anxiety, and the guilt you’ve had did not go away, and as soon as Jackson left the hospital room, you leaned on BamBam’s bed, taking his cold hand in yours again.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, aware that you couldn’t know if he heard you for sure. “I don’t know what it is that you did that made these people come after you, but you don’t deserve this. You deserve better. Better colleagues. A better job. A better wife.”

Taking a moment to calm your breathing down, you noticed the way BamBam’s heart rate monitor started to beep a bit more frequently.

“I’m sorry for everything,” you continued, hoping that his accelerated heartbeat meant that he could hear you, after all. “We never got a chance to spend more time together. I-I want that. I want you to wake up. To recover. I want you to stop running away and let me help you. Let Jackson help you. I don’t want you to be alone.”

You weren’t sure what it was. Perhaps you imagined it or perhaps it was a muscle spasm, but you thought you felt BamBam’s hand squeeze yours.

Jumping up from your chair – still not letting go of his hand – you watched him for a moment. After he showed no other signs of waking up, carefully, you sat down on the edge of his bed, next to his body.

“Bam,” you whispered gently. “You chose to come back – it has to mean that you’re not meant to be away from home. So, don’t be. Come back again.”

You did not know at the time, but waking up was a process that happened slowly and quietly. After having held BamBam’s hand for so long – right before Jackson surprised you by coming in, – you let go of it and did not feel the way his muscles contracted every few minutes. Due to focusing your attention on Jackson, you did not notice the way BamBam’s eyelashes began to flutter. However, now your full, undivided, attention was on him, and you could see it.

You could see the way his free hand – the one you weren’t holding in yours – lifted slightly. You could see him squeeze his eyes. You thought you could even see his lips move under the oxygen mask.

And then, finally, you felt your breath hitch in your throat as you saw BamBam’s eyes open. He struggled and ended up blinking a lot, but eventually, he opened them. After one glance around the hospital room – which caused his heartbeat to speed up even more – he eyes found yours.

And, with a heart that slowly started to calm down at the sight of you, BamBam chose to never look away from you again.

@bammiesmysoulmate @lostmytaehyungg @aquietkerfuffle @michael-gordon-clifford @alittlebabybird @too-many-fandoms666 @smilingmei @daelicious-jongbulge

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gashaponma · 6 years

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Currently the Sun is in 0 degrees Cancer, marking the Summer solstice, a time when according to myth the veils between worlds are thinner and there are rituals one must perform to keep the evil spirits from taking the opportunity to invade our minds and our lives. Hah! Has no one noticed lately, Earth seems be full up on its evil spirits quota!

With many planets in Cancer, I am always quite physically informed in the movements of the Moon and ingresses of other heavenly bodies in signs that make contact with my Cancer planets: Crabs are extremely sensitive to the “undercurrents” that affect their home environment and sense of safety. I don’t even have to look at the ephemeris to know when the Moon has moved signs or perfected a New or Full phase.

This solstice, in the midst of feeling rather anxious and breathless — I feel as if big shifts are coming our way like massive tidal waves that look like they could be made by Cthulhu — perhaps in anticipation of the upcoming eclipses in July and retrogression of Mars and Venus etc., I had a sort of epiphany about retrograde planets in transit and in one’s natal chart.

From my still-incomplete knowledge of astrology: The Western school views retrogrades as a time to ‘re-view, re-visit, re-do’, while practitioners of the Vedic form view retrograde planets in a natal chart as a symbol of their amplified energy. Mulling over my own experiences of retrograde planets, in personal life and astrological practice, I came to the realisation just now that perhaps the answer lies somewhere in the middle.

When a planet goes ‘retrograde’, that is just the apparent motion of the heavenly body from Earth’s point of view, but what is actually happening is that Earth is outpacing the planet which could symbolically be seen as “getting away with it.”

In astrology as in most other esoteric spiritual practices the Earth is viewed as the realm of physical manifestation, ideally, of the Divine will or direction (I have recently been studying the Kabbalist Tree of Life, Sephirot, and the Rosicrucian Rose Cross, which illustrate this idea so intriguingly beautifully). I say ideally because like every Tarot card has a different meaning in reverse; like every planet and sign in astrology has a higher and lower expression, so every human has shades of ‘positive’ and ‘negative’ which determine what an individual might do with their free will — will they materialise that Divine inspiration for ‘good’? Or ‘bad’?

Sephirot, Image credit: Public Domain, uploaded on Wikipedia by User, AnonMoos

Rose Cross, Image Credit: By Fuzzypeg – Created by Fuzzypeg using Inkscape, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=4100581

When I synthesise all the ideas above, I visualise (I only truly understand anything through immersive visualisation) the retrograde effect as: A human on earth, rat-racing forward, getting ahead of themselves in the pursuit or expression of an urge, suddenly stopping, realising something is missing, looking back to see their goal is falling away from them, it’s being taken away! Then retracing their steps to get back to Start, discovering on the way something they’d dropped, to place themselves once again in tandem with the project schedule (planet agenda). Or differently, A person leaving their house to go somewhere, getting to the car only to realise they’ve left their keys back home so they turn back to fetch them, realising in the process they’d left their heating on!

In transit terms this seems to fit the Western view of review times during retrograde.

Also, from Earth’s perspective, when a planet is retrograde you are spotting it in a portion of sky you’ve already looked at before, so symbolically too, you are called to attend to something from the past rather than initiate new projects. Since planetary retrogrades are less frequent than their direct motion, they symbolise periodic flips in perspective which might return to normal once the planet resumes normal movement, so anything initiated at this time, you’ll most likely have different feelings about once the tide changes, hence the prediction of doom associated with retrograde-born initiatives.

In natal terms I can appreciate how the Vedic view of amplified power comes through because those who are born with a ‘constant’ feeling like their goal/objective is falling away from them will, in the planet’s positive expression, try doubly harder to get to it. Since achieving the retrograde planet’s forward expression does not come easy, and requires quite a bit of trial and error to refine their methods, people with natal retrogrades are perhaps even better at what they ultimately achieve — a hard-won victory! I know a few people with retrograde Venus in their natal chart who are really good at amassing money in spite of, or perhaps because of, their poverty mindset.

Individuals with retrograde Saturn are likely to desire approval from a father or authority figure so much that they self-regulate themselves to the point of toil, achieving high ranks and authority positions (Saturn) for themselves in the bargain! Of course, on the negative side, this same desire for approval can cause fears or blocks in their creative expression or intuitive intelligence.

Being on the greyer side of 30, I have lived through many retrograde transits myself but in 2018 I have become acutely aware of three whose impact was too stark to ignore.

Saturn retrograde in my First House of Will: In line with Saturn’s message of toil I have enrolled for an educational course that I hope will launch me into a completely different, yet perfectly resonant with me, career. As I got to grips with studies at this age and stage, I put off getting my balcony door fixed, which was threatening to fall off any day. But it so happened, one thing led to another, and I was forced to postpone taking my exams for this course to the next semester because, upon closer inspection, along with the door, the roof was crumbling, as were the walls and various other parts of the house! I had to pause my ambitions for an overlooked task which would only have created a bigger block at a much more crucial time further up ahead in my course.

Jupiter retrograde in my 11th house of wishes and networks: My pursuit of finding “my tribe” (also linked to my course above) also got stalled with the home renovation and interestingly, this period and a little before it, has witnessed a natural ‘trimming away’ of friendships and associations perhaps to make space for the new? Or as we might find out when Jupiter turns direct, to return in my life better aligned with my new goals.

Neptune retrograde in my 3rd house of communication, mental and manual abilities, and kinship: The standstill of Neptune just a few days back couldn’t have been more obvious had it dropped a piano on my head! Here I was merrily exchanging messages, communicating with people when suddenly, I realised there was a different meaning to what was being communicated to me and I had been perceiving it as quite the opposite! Certain facts came to light too that gave me a BIG pause for review.

This year we have more ahead, Mars (our drive, ‘warrior’ spirit, energy, lust) turns retrograde on 26th June, Uranus (our unfettered, ‘eccentric’ drive and will) on 3rd August, Venus (our sense of romance, harmony, pleasure, abundance) on 5th October, and of course Mercury (our cognitive abilities, communication skills, logic) on 26th July and again on 16th November.

I have only written here the personal expressions of each planet but of course these planets also manifest their lessons as external events through the agents associated with each but I’ve other work to do and I’m beat, perhaps I’ll update this already rather long post another time to list them all!

Happy Summer Solstice and Cancer season! 🙂

2018 Summer Solstice Special: Retrograde Revelation (or Ramble) Currently the Sun is in 0 degrees Cancer, marking the Summer solstice, a time when according to myth the veils between worlds are thinner and there are rituals one must perform to keep the evil spirits from taking the opportunity to invade our minds and our lives.

#astrology #Mars #Neptune #Pluto #retrograde planets #Saturn #summer solstice #Uranus #Venus

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