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#why would you mistrust someone before they did anything untrustworthy?
sigynsilica · 1 year
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I'm beginning to think that if you have to google what a social cue is and when reading through the Wikipedia article on social cues you're like...
No. No. People can't actually do this. People can't look at a person and know that much about them. This can't be real. Someone hijacked Wiki again. This is fake.
MAYBE JUST MAYBE YOU DONT UNDERSTAND SOCIAL CUES AND YOU IN FACT ARE THE ONE WHO IS MISTOOKEN AND NOT WIKIPEDIA
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bookofmirth · 2 years
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lele I think this fandom needs to have "unreliable narrator" taken away from them until they learn how to use it correctly. why do I see so many comments about how acosf is a more accurate depiction of everyone because it's 3rd person "omniscient" (which isn't true) and 1st person is just so unreliable? 😭
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first 👏 person 👏 is 👏 not 👏 inherently 👏 unreliable
We know *LESS* about the world in first person narration, but what we know isn't necessarily WRONG.
In fact, given the way that sjm writes, there is no reason to assume that anything Feyre experienced is actually wrong because sjm doesn't use first person in order to trick the reader! There are other reasons to use first person narration that have nothing to do with being a big ol' liar.
We may as well dismiss everything that a first person narrator has ever said as untrustworthy if that were the case, but it's NOT THE CASE. The main thing to be aware of with first person is that there are facts that the MC is unaware of, but really talented writers can still give us that information without the MC being aware. SJM is not one of those writers who does that, which is fine. But there is zero reason to mistrust what Feyre felt, knew, and experienced, just because she was the one telling the story. Her "view" of the IC is just as valid as Nesta's because they are unique individuals who have different experiences, values, goals, etc.
acosf is NOT more accurate. It's just not!
We got Feyre's perspective in acotar through fas, and now we have Nesta's perspective. It's not even omniscient because we don't get any information that Nesta (and sometimes Cassian) are not also privy to. We are still limited to knowing the world through their experiences.
You know how I know? This is just one example, but we had ZERO hint that the Dread Trove existed until we were in the room with Nesta, reading as she listened to Amren describe it. If the story were truly omniscient, and if it were truly *not* tied to Nesta's (skewed!) perspective, then we, the readers, would have been able to know or figure out the existence of the Dread Trove before Nesta did. But no. We are still limited to her perspective in acosf!
Another reason I know that acosf is NOT objective and NOT "more" true than any other book in the series, is that I was able to read a sentence and think "um, no, that's actually not true, that's just how you see it, Nesta". E.g. when she thinks about how she's worthless, I know that that's not true, but it's how she feels. When she thinks that Elain is like a dog, I knew that wasn't true. When she thinks about how Feyre and Elain chose other people over her, I knew that wasn't true. Why would anyone want any of those statements to be "objectively" true just because of how those thoughts were conveyed to us???
I haven't seen these posts so idk what people are saying, but the thing that annoys me is that these are potentially really interesting conversations about how the characters shift once we focus on someone who has a very different relationship with them, but I suspect that people say things like this and then tag the posts "pro Nesta" and "anti Feyre". If I'm wrong then that would be great! I just wonder, what is the reason behind trying to argue that Nesta's book is more "accurate" than the 3.5 we got from Feyre's perspective?
Writers and literary critics don't talk about first person narration as a way to prove that one character is "better" than another, it's about craft and the allowances and constraints of first person versus omniscient, or third person close. 💀
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WAIT I also want to add on that "unreliable narrator" isn't something that this fandom needs to discuss ever because it's just not a feature of this series, unless it's to talk about something like... what Eris and Mor say about what happened between them. But even then, we already got her POV, so...
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akatsukinojutsu · 4 years
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𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒯𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝐹𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝓈 - Uchiha Itachi
Your great, great grandfather Tobirama Senju never trusted the Uchiha and that trait was passed down to your grandfather. Your grandfather passed that to your father and he would be damned if you would be acquainted with one.
Just so happens that you fell in love with one, Uchiha Itachi. Although the two of you share a strong relationship but you sense him pulling away. One night sealed his fate and reputation -- you followed him there and you still do, even as Itachi has evolved to an Akatsuki member. [sorry it’s so long! originally posted on my ao3]
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"You know you're my special girl, right?" your father was knelt down to meet your level and smiled as he rubbed the top of your head. "I entrust the future of the Senju name to you." he stood back up and looked down as his demeanor took on a more serious tone. He raised a finger and placed it on the tip of your nose, "No matter what you do, beware of the Uchiha, [Y/N]." Your father was the son of your grandfather, who was the son of Senju Tobirama and you were the last of the direct Tobirama bloodline. This caused your father to feel the weight of leaving the legacy of the Senju clan to you. 
He raised you on his own as your mother passed away in childbirth, an emotional burden that the two of you carried. Your father kept you under his watch constantly as he did not trust the outside world and did not want you to be tainted. Your clan was known as being the "clan of a thousand skills". The wrong people could see a naïve child as being the best possible opportunity to use this power for evil. So, that is why your father kept you by his side at all times. This meant that you were not allowed to train as a shinobi like the other children of Konohagakure; he left that training up to himself. Who else to train a Senju than a Senju?
That also meant that he passed down the distrust of the rival Uchiha clan. Great grandfather Tobirama taught Uchiha mistrust to his son, who taught it to his, who then tried to teach it to you. You were headstrong however and did not believe that all Uchiha could be cunning and untrustworthy. No matter how much you argued with your father, it never got anywhere; so you learned to keep quiet on the subject. Unbeknownst to him, just the same as his great-uncle had befriended an Uchiha, you had as well.
His name was Uchiha Itachi and you met him long while exploring the village late at night. Since a young age, you often found yourself sneaking out of your house late at night to get away from your father's overbearing nature. It was a way that you could rebel against him but not hurt him in any serious way. Tonight was one of those nights that you snuck out... You walked into the woods on the outskirts of the village and ran up the tallest tree that you could find. But this time you knew that you weren't alone. Your forefinger looped through the hole at the top of the kunai in your waistband, throwing it into the trunk of the tree off to your right.
"Come out!" you yelled. But there was silence. You flashed a series of hand seals and summoned a stream of high-pressured water to spray from your mouth, "Water Release: Water Severing Wave!" -- and cut several treetops down in your path. Still no one appeared. Just as you were ready to jump to the next tree branch, a person dressed in an ANBU uniform and mask pounced from below and tackled you from the current branch. As the two of you tumbled to the forest's floor, you wrestled with the person to get the dominate position, however, they were too fast for you. With a thud you landed on a branch several yards below, the wind knocked out of you.
The person quickly regained the upper ground and lunged toward you; your foot was able to make a quick kick into their stomach which sent them flying into the adjacent to your current position. They arched their back and jumped to a standing position. With a sword in hand and with a lightening fast summoning technique, a flurry of crows flew at you. The bird swarmed you quickly, you waved your arms and hands wildly to try and shoo them away. This left you vulnerable for an attack, the ANBU opponent jumped into the air with their sword at the ready. 
The Senju blood that flowed through your veins allowed your speed on your feet to be impeccable and you were able to dodge their attack as well as roll away from the flock of crows. The ninjutsu of crows had concluded which then the assailant began to barrage you with a flurry of kenjutsu attacks with their sword. Armed with only a kunai, you fended off their blows to the best of your abilities. Each slash of their sword pushed your strength to its near limits, your knees slowly bent as you started to fall into submission. With one last slash, the assailant brought you to your knees. With both hands on the hilt of the kunai and it being held above your head, you viciously held back their strength the best that you could.
The sword dug into your arm slightly, blood pooled from the slit in your skin. "Do you give up?" they asked. You considered giving up. But with one last ninjutsu attempt, you used your great grandfather's Heavenly Weeping jutsu. A water type ninjutsu that formed water into senbon shaped projectiles and shot from your mouth to stagger enemies. You dropped the kunai and the sword dug further into your arm. You strained to form the seals for the technique; however, you were successful in spitting several senbon into the person's thigh to get them to drop their guard; they recoiled in pain and released the sword.
This gave you the opportunity to jump backward with the kunai in hand and at the ready. "I'd say this is a draw." you dropped your stance and dropped to the ground with a huff. The opponent removed their mask and revealed the familiar face of the Uchiha boy, Itachi.
"I could've won, y'know?" you spoke first. Itachi winced at the pain but hummed in amusement at your statement, "Sure." He pulled out the senbon from his thigh, then stepped toward you to put out his hand to pick you up but you pushed it away. "I'll win. Sometime." Itachi hummed again. "I did once!" you sassed. "That's because I let you, [Y/N]." Your eyes narrowed in annoyance at the black haired teenager. He was two years younger than you but has excelled in his shinobi career far past yourself. Your father keeping you away from much of the village did not aid you in your advancement -- he wouldn't let you be free until you were 18 and that was just a possibility... "Whatever..." you growled as you placed your hands behind your head and walked toward the village.
"I miss seeing you outside of just sparring, Itachi." He nodded. It was not often that the two of you spent time together. It had to usually be outside of the village, in his home, or at night because you feared your father's reaction. "I've been busy," he said bluntly. "Busy? Busy doing what?" He looked over to you before turning his head away, "It's not important. Just stuff to do with the village." His response was short which usually meant he didn't want to talk about it. Your lips pressed together as you processed his response.
You knew that the leaders of the village wanted him to keep an eye on his clan and vice versa. But that is all that he would tell you. He was only 13 and had the weight of an adult on his shoulders. You admired him for his maturity and his skills. Not to mention, he was super cute. Itachi stopped a few yards from the entrance to the village. A cool breeze of wind blew and the night was now silent, no sounds of the wildlife anywhere. Itachi stared at you in silence, his thoughts were unknown to you. But he just stared. You shivered at the breeze, your hands rubbed your arms.
To your surprise, Itachi pulled you close and embraced you. He smelled of sweat and his skin was warm. Your face was pressed firmly into his chest by his right palm and you could hear his steady, loud heartbeat. His thumb caressed your hair and he rested his nose on the top of your head. He didn't say anything, so you didn't either. The two of you just stood in silence, the wind being the only sound. "I-," you tried speaking but he hushed you as he just wanted to be quiet. He let go of the back of your head but his hand moved to your chin. He placed two fingers under it and tilted your face back. You knew what was going to happen but you were so nervous that you didn't know how to react. Itachi placed a kiss on your lips. They were cool from the wind and it caused your skin on your face to tingle. It was a long kiss, both of your lips pressed against each other's for quite sometime. Before the kiss could move anywhere else, he pulled away. 
"Goodnight, [Y/N]." he jumped to the top of the gates to the village and off into the darkness. It was as if you were featherlight and on cloud nine because the entire walk home felt like you were floating. You had the biggest crush on Itachi. Not only was he your first friend but he was the first person to see you as a normal kid, he didn't expect you to carry out the Hokage-Titled bloodline. So, it was only natural to develop feelings for someone like him. You admired his pacifist nature and the fact that he cared very much for those he admired. Despite sparring with you for fun, he tried to avoid fighting.
Versus your headstrong attitude that you inherited; it was like the two of you canceled each other out. Itachi's tendency to live on the outside and watching people from there really related to you. The way your father raised you caused you to develop a similar personality trait, however, you wish to be apart of more people's lives. You often listened to girls coo on how dreamy the Uchiha was and had to withhold your comments. It wasn't easy having to keep your friendship a hushed deal. But you decided it would end tonight. You were done with your father's ideals and his actions. You no longer wanted to be kept away like some sort of item only used for special occasions.
"I'm going to tell father about Itachi," you said to yourself. His kiss sealed the deal. You pushed yourself through the window of your bedroom to see your father sitting on your bed to your surprise. When you jumped from the window and landed, you bowed. "Father, I-," he raised his hand to interrupt you. "I know about the Uchiha boy, Sarutobi told me." The Third Hokage? Seriously? You damned the old man as you clenched your fist and teeth. "That's what I was going to talk about you tonight," you stomped your foot, "I'm done listening to you, father. I love Uchiha Itachi!" your face flushed red as you confessed your love. You awaited your father's reaction... But his face was absent of any... He pressed his lips tightly into a line and stood up from the bed.
"Is that so? Hmph, I should've guessed this would happen." He turned away from you and took a step toward the door, "I forbid you to see him any longer," he then left and closed the door behind him. With a flurry of hand seals, he pressed his palm against the door. "Sealing jutsu!" You heard him and rushed toward the door. No matter how hard you yanked and jiggled the doorknob, it wouldn't budge. "Shit!" you screamed as you wildly tugged wildly to try and open the door. There was no way you could undo his seal... he was far more powerful than you. With your back to the door, you slid down to the floor in a fit of tears.
You loudly cursed your father you wished for the unspeakable, 'I wish he'd just die already! I'm sick of this.' After shedding several tears, you decided to do something about it. Focusing your chakra, you remembered reading about how to break a seal. It might not work but it was worth a try. Your father sealed the entire room, windows and all; your target was the windows, least you could sneak out like usual. As you approached the rectangular sliding windows, you focused your chakra and placed your palm on the glass.
"Release!" and with a small tug, you quietly pulled the window to the right and it opened up. That was easier than you expected but it did take a bit of chakra. You pushed yourself out the window and took off into a sprint toward Itachi's home. Your father had a bad feeling and rushed to your room. He released his seal on the door and pushed it open, a gasp left his mouth. He gripped the knob tightly and when he released it, the metal had been crushed and warped from his strength.
"That damned girl!!" he yelled as he stomped to go and confront his daughter and the Uchiha. His blood boiled and he cursed the rival clan and his grandfather... if he would've just killed that damned Madara, his daughter wouldn't be running off with one of them right now... Just as he attempted to leave, a sudden pain in his chest stopped him in his tracks. He grabbed the left of his chest with his right hand and winced in pain.
"My...medicine...Tsunade..." he croaked as he staggered toward the kitchen to retrieve the medication given to him by his second cousin. However, he dropped to the floor. Dead. He had a previous condition and the stress from his only daughter going off with Itachi agitated the issue and ultimately killed him. The last of the Tobirama Senju bloodline now is you. You quickly made your way to Itachi. Your mind and heart raced with excitement and panic; you were ready to confess your love to the skilled shinobi but you were petrified of what your father will do. You were somewhat familiar with the section of town where the Uchiha resided but anytime you entered, you often got looks from the clan members...looks and whispers as to why you were there...
Despite how hard it was, you did your best to ignore them. At this time of night, the lights in their homes would glow warmly and feel inviting. But this time -- it was dark and silent. You halted as you entered the area and a chill shivered down your spine. It was so...quiet. Something was wrong. As you slowly made your way down the roads, you couldn't help but feel as if someone was keeping an eye on your from the shadows. You stopped several times to look around but nothing seemed to catch your attention. So, you continued on your way to Itachi's home but kept your guard up. You weren't just some schmuck of a kunoichi, whoever it was would have to put up with a fight if they were going to attack you. But there was several things laying on the ground up ahead. You were confused as the distance made it difficult to make out...people? You sprinted toward the bodies on the ground to try and aid them.
"They're...dead?!" you shrieked. There were large, gaping slash wounds in their bodies and the blood was fresh. "I-I," you stuttered as you now sprinted to find Itachi. You called out his name in panic, hoping, praying he was not dead. As you passed the empty homes of the clan, you could see the damage done to the building and splatters of blood in the street. You could hear the rush of footsteps running toward you and just before you could leap into the air, chains wrapped around your body and pulled you to the ground with a thud. You thrashed on the ground as you tried to break free and spouted insults at the thug who caught you.
They delivered a swift kick to your abdomen which made you cough loudly, "You talk too much," the stranger crouched down and you were able to get a good look. Their voice indicated that they were male but their identity was hidden behind an orange mask with black flame markings, his hair was long, black and spikey -- his outfit was one of dark colors of blue and black. "I-Itachi?" you stuttered out but they only replied with a chuckle. The man unsheathed his katana and raised it, you clenched your eyes shut as you were rendered practically useless as much of your chakra went to releasing your father's seal. Just as the man was ready to strike you, a hand grabbed hold of his wrist.
"No," you knew that voice. Your eyes opened and you wiggled wildly as you were shocked to see Itachi standing before you. "I-Itachi!" you exclaimed. He had splatters of blood on his outfit and his katana was in the grasp of his opposite hand to the one that was holding onto the masked assailant. His eyes were red with his sharingan and you put the pieces together rather quickly. "You, you did this?" your voice shook. Itachi released his hold on the man's wrist and returned his katana to its holder. The masked man released you from the chains and Itachi helped bring you to a stand.
"I don't understand..." you continued to iterate your concerns. But the masked man interrupted, "Itachi, she is a loose end," but Itachi turned his head and stared the man down, you could feel the stillness in the air as the tension rose between the two. "She goes free." The man did not protest and merely crossed his arms. "I won't say anything, I swear!" you pleaded. "I have no one to tell! I will take this to my grave," you continued but Itachi's hands touching both sides of your face ceased your panicking. "[Y/N], go. Now!" he pressed his forehead against yours. You could see his jaw tense as if he was holding back emotion.
"I said go!" he pulled away, dropped his hands and pushed you away. You listened reluctantly but quickly took off in a sprint back toward the village. Your running was frantic and you could barely keep yourself upright as you tripped over several bodies sprawled out in the road. You looked back only once with tears in your eyes. Was the "busy" stuff he had to do involved with this? So many questions with no answers. And no hope for answers. The unknown man turned to Itachi, "Was that really a good idea, Itachi?"
Your beloved didn't reply but simply turned around to continue with the spree of death. You couldn't tell your father what had happened but you just craved his comfort. You knew his calm voice would sooth your anguish. However, you would never hear his tranquil tone again. When you discovered his body, your world shattered. Your last interaction with him was an argument and because you disobeyed.. he was dead.
You were now left alone in this world, you no longer had your father and would no longer have Itachi... "I heard that Kakashi and Guy intercepted Uchiha Itachi!" you could hear a fellow ANBU gossip to another operative. This peaked your interest as you leaned in to catch a whiff of their chattering. "I heard they were trying to get ahold of Uzumaki Naruto but were stopped. He and his partner got away, though." the other operative added. 'If it was not that long ago, maybe I can catch up with him...' you thought to yourself. You pushed yourself up from a chair you were sat in and went toward the window of the room on the upper floor of the Hokage's building. "Where are you going, [Y/N]?" your female compatriot asked.
"I have an errand to run," with that quick reply, you leaped from the window to the city below. "Damn it, Itachi. Why now? I've been trying to find you for years and you choose a day like today?" you muttered to yourself as you leaped between buildings to head toward the forest. You had been kept under close watch from your fellow black ops as some began to suspect things from your past. Ever since that night that you witnessed what Itachi had done and your father passed, you have dedicated your life to being secretive
 Being an ANBU meant that your life was already shrouded in darkness and secrecy. But it was only the curiosity of your fellow ANBU to question things from your past. You were aware of their heightened suspicions, especially after the ANBU ops discovered that you were the last to see Uchiha Itachi outside of the clan's residence the night he slaughtered them all. "Itachi, I think we have ourselves a visitor," Kisame noted. The two missing-nin jumped from tree to tree and were several miles away from Konohagakure. He was surprised by the unwelcomed guest's speed but remained calm as he needed to decide how to handle the situation. You could see two figures ahead of you and struggled to make out who they were; all you could see were two black cloaks with red clouds.
You performed the Multi-Shadow Clone jutsu and instructed them to try and flank the two. Again, since you were a descendent of Senju, your speed was more than impressive. (your great-grandfather wasn't hailed as the fastest shinobi for nothing) Several of your clones were able to flank the two and they came to a halt. "Say, should we put up a fight or what?" Kisame asked with a smile and began to remove Samehada from his back. But Itachi stopped him with a raised hand, his eyes narrowed as he studied the clones.
"Stop you two!" you called out as you approached the scene. Itachi turned his head slightly and his onyx eyes gazed at you through the slits of your ANBU mask. Your heart stopped and it was as if the world melted around you. The two of you remained silent as you stared into each other's eyes. Kisame made note of this and busted a small joke as he wondered what his partner was thinking. You removed your mask and revealed your identity to the two. "Who's this tall glass of cool water, Itachi? You seem to know each other." Kisame joked again with a grin on his face. 
But Itachi remained quiet and his gaze never left you. "Uchiha Itachi! I finally found you, after a long,long time." you jumped to the branch directly in front of them. You dropped to your knee and a flurry of emotions washed over you. You trembled slightly as you tried to fight back any tears that might have been trying to break through. "[Y/N]..." he finally spoke, his voice sounded just the same as when you last heard it. He seemed to have aged some, must be 21 by now. "So... you do know each other. Interesting..." Kisame said amusingly as he witnessed the interaction. Itachi turned toward him, "Kisame, leave us. I will meet with you back at base later."
Kisame opened his mouth to protest but Itachi lowered his brows, the blue skinned man complied and took off in the direction that they were already heading in. He returned his attention to you. As you stood there like a confused child, he jumped over to you and raised his hands then placed them on the sides of your face. It reminded you of that night. His thumbs which were now painted blue and a red ring on his right ring finger. He still remained quiet as the two of you stood in the forest, just like old times.
"Just like the old days..." you whispered as your eyes studied his matured face. He hummed and stared back. You pressed your lips together before you pressed them onto his. You knew that he was caught off guard by it because he took a step back to keep steady on the branch. He hesitated for a moment, his hands in the air on either side of himself before they rested on your shoulders. You exchanged more kisses as the passion began to heat up between the two of you. Itachi pushed you back several steps until your back met the trunk. As the kissing continued, hands roamed freely over each other's bodies as you discovered your now adult forms. He was the first to pull away, his hair was a mess and his cloak was disheveled. You tried to pull him back from the collar of his cloak but he pulled away again. "[Y/N]..."
You tried several more times to pull him into more kissing but Itachi objected. "[Y/N], I need to go and so do you." as he tried to turn away, you yanked him back. "No!" you barked. "I finally have you here and you are trying to leave," your gaze dropped and tears welled in your eyes. "Take me with you." Itachi shook his head as he brushed his hair from his face, "Out of the question." You took a step toward him as you pulled out your katana from its holster on your back. You raised it up to his throat with both hands on the hilt. "I am going with you, Uchiha. No buts about it."
Itachi didn't seemed startled by your reaction and simply pushed the blade away with his pointer and middle finger tips. "You're willing to disown Konohagakure?" Your jaw tightened as you turned away, your eyes fixating on the direction of the village. "There is nothing there for me. I only joined the ANBU because I knew it was a way to utilize my skills. I think my father would've liked that" you took the ANBU mask out from a side pouch and discarded it to the side. As the mask tumbled to the forest floor, it took your allegiance to the village with it. You took a knee and submitted yourself over to Itachi.
"But he's dead and I am fully willing to come with you, Itachi," your eyes raised from the ground up to him. He looked down to you as his height shadowed over you. The Uchiha hummed and a small smile spread across his lips; he leant out his hand to you. You returned the smile and took it. Finally reunited with the Uchiha. A Senju and an Uchiha? Who would've guessed. "Will you ever explain that night to me, Itachi?" you asked, he was quiet for a moment before answering, 
"Yes, in time, [Y/N]."
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sanders-sides-fic · 4 years
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Hunters and pray(ing)
So, I talked to my younger brother about the prompt-thingy. My brother doesn’t watch Sanders Sides and avoids English with a passion (it’s our secondary language), but he still made a request. So, even though he will never read this: “Are you stupid? Or just randomly suicidal?” and “Careful, there are Vampires around here” with, and I quote, »the purple one, the snake-guy and the one who does that thing with his arms«
XD Enjoy.
Virgil hated whenever Janus did something like that. He was supposed to be the one in charge, he was supposed to be careful. Not… Whatever that was!
Then again, Virgil may or may not be a perfect example on what not to do, as well. After all, he hadn’t left their new house since they had moved in, not even for the sake of buying new clothes. But that didn’t matter, he’d just used some of the fabric from an old cloak he couldn’t wear anymore anyways and had patched his outfit up. He kinda liked it. Actually, he felt way more comfortable in the worn, customized hoody than he had with any of the high-price stuff Janus felt to be appropriate.
But that wasn’t the point.
The point was that Janus was ignoring all the flashing lights and for what? He just didn’t get it. Why was it so important to Janus to always look perfectly put together at all times? Why was it so important that he had to go into the city, right amongst the ones they had to fear the most, every other day. Appearance had always been a huge deal to him, Virgil guessed, but not to that extent. Maybe because they were new or something like that?
No. No, Virgil couldn’t believe that. Janus was a smooth talker, a slick bastard and a cunning schemer. Janus lied like it was his second nature. Janus was untrustworthy and, yes, at times also back-stabbing. He was impulsively loyal, fiercely vindictive, specifically prideful and his moral compass mostly seemed like a fucking roulette wheel, but the one thing Janus was not was dumb. Dense, maybe, but not dumb. He knew when a risk wasn’t worth it.
So there had to be a reason why Janus went into town all the time. Virgil knew that there had to be. But he had confronted Janus before and, as always, received an outrageous lie as an answer. That and a half-hearted promise not to go for the next few weeks. A promise he’d never intended to keep, as Virgil and he had both known very well.
Virgil looked at the clock in the back the room. It was fairly late, almost five in the morning. And yet Janus wasn’t back still.
That was something that had happened more and more lately, too. Janus never named a reason or anything, but he went out in the early evening hours and would return way too late. Sometimes even injured. He never used to come back hurt, never used to be this careless.
Virgil bit his lip, wanting nothing more than to slap Janus for being home late, again. Seriously, what could be more important than to come back to-
A sudden thought occurred to Virgil, making him stop his pacing back and forth dead in his tracks. No. No, not Janus. Right? Janus wouldn’t get this caught up over some… some guy, would he?
Sure, he had had many lovers before, but every single one of those had been disposable to him. Some even just means to some end, if Virgil remembered correctly. But Janus had never really been in love. He had been loved, but he had never put anyone on equal footing or, perish the thought, even above himself. Even Virgil, who had known Janus basically his entire life, could barely reach thought to him. There was no way Janus had fallen that hard, to actually endanger himself and his family, was there?
He didn’t take a coat as he ran outside as fast as he could, just following the street Janus would always take. It took him about five minutes that way to reach the small town close to their new home. He knew Janus had been exaggerating! But that wasn’t what he was here to do. He was here for Janus, to make sure Janus hadn’t gone and done the one thing that had even landed them in this situation.
It took a long time to find him. Longer than he wold have expected, which made it pretty clear that Janus didn’t want to be found. He had been on the verge of giving up and returning home for the night, hoping Janus had done the same already, when he saw him. The young man he considered to be his brother was leaning against a wall, clearly amused. His gloved hands twirled his hat around, the black vest had moved up ever so slightly above the yellow button-up, and Virgil couldn’t help the snicker. As per usual, Janus looked like a mafiosi standing in that dark ally, possibly as suspicious as that would have been possible for a man in a suit at all. And Virgil mistrusted most men in suits.
But, there was also someone with him. Someone with the back to him, so Virgil couldn’t see him properly. But he could make out the brown hair. It looked neatly trimmed and pushed back smoothly. Judging from his back, Virgil would have guessed that the other man lived uptown. A good, stable household. The worst kinds of people, if anyone asked him.
He made a point of not listening in on their conversation, but he didn’t let them out of his sight either. Janus looked happy, or at least he was enjoying himself. Virgil could appreciate that about the stranger. After all, with what had happened, Janus had been tense for quite some time. Thinking about it now, Vigil realized that Janus had been a bit more relaxed lately. Less frustrated and more playful. That hadn’t happened since Remy…
Well, there was a good reason for them to be tense and on the other end of the globe now.
It was close to sunrise when Janus said something and pointed in the direction of a shop. Judging that it would be safe to listen in without disrespecting Janus’ privacy too much, Virgil stopped dulling his senses. “-so my roommate doesn’t get worried. Well, more worried, I suppose. He’s always anxious.”, Janus laughed silently. Virgil huffed in annoyance. As if he hadn’t seen through that tactic long ago. Janus didn’t even try anymore at this point, just bringing back a single, random article. “I’ll be right back, alright?”
“Or, just a thought, you could talk to him.” The strangers voice was thick and rich, like a singer’s voice. Thinking about it now, he also had a great posture, like an actor on a stage. Oh, great. As though Virgil didn’t have enough dramatic people in his life already.
“I will. I promise I will”, Janus replied, making Virgil clench his teeth. Such a liar. “as soon as he’s gotten used to life in America. He’s shaken from that fire still.”
“Oh, the mysterious fire I’ve heard so much and nothing about. Will you ever tell me what actually happened?”
Janus only laughed and waved as he walked into the shop he had pointed at before. Some sort of candle store by the looks of it. Oh, God. Please, not another scented candle!
Virgil sighed deeply as he watched his ‘roommate’, apparently, walk away. Maybe he should go take a closer look at the stranger? See what kind of person Janus had fallen for? Just to make sure it was safe, of cause, the curiosity wasn’t any part of the reason he wanted to do that at all.
Nah, he should probably get back. If Janus wanted to end up a pile on the floor, that was his decision. He himself would much rather go back to sleep or have a nice meal right about now. Besides, it could be dangerous to go talk to a stranger in a strange town in a strange country. Yeah, really didn’t seem like a fail-safe plan to Virgil.
So he naturally put his hands into his pockets, looked for cars and crossed the street, right to where the stranger was standing.
The stranger’s brown eyes meet Virgil’s storm grey ones. He was pretty, Virgil had to leave him that. And he had a color coordinated outfit, which didn’t matter much to Virgil, but was probably a huge plus for Janus.
“Uhm, hi? Can I help you with something?”, the stranger asked. Virgil looked him up and down and nodded his head slowly. “Yes… I kinda got lost and I’ve been wandering around for most of the night. Do you know the direction to the highway, by any chance?”
“What?!”, the nameless stranger asked shocked, his eyes visibly widening, “The entire night? Oh, lord! You have to be more-”
“Responsible? I know. My whole family seems to have that problem lately.”, Virgil interrupted annoyed, looking for a way look into the stranger’s eyes deep enough to question him.
“No. Careful. There are vampires around here, you know?”
And that made Virgil freeze up. He knew? The humans knew? How did they find out?! Had Janus been even more careless than he had thought? Had Janus maybe even confessed? No. No, surely Janus wasn’t that stupid. No way.
“Oh? Doesn’t the church usually take care of things like that?”, Virgil asked, paranoia creeping into his mind. Had there been anyone there tonight who might have figured him out? Anyone who could follow him and stick a pole through them while they slept today? He didn’t think so, but he hadn’t payed attention either. Well, fuck.
“Yes, we usually do. And we did. We have a non-aggression pact with them, though it’s anonymous. Still, you have to be careful with creatures like that. They have… prejudges. Justified prejudges maybe, but they still often attack first and ask questions later, you know?”
What. The. Fuck?! Who the hell was it having prejudges now, idiot? But Virgil forced himself to remain calm. “So, what do you do to be careful? Wear a cross or something?” Most of the things humans thought to be helpful were rubbish, but some of them actually worked. If he was unlucky, he wouldn’t be able to hypnotize the stranger, and then it would only blow his cover and he would know about Janus and they would end up like Remy and-
“No, that doesn’t really work. Best is just not to be out on the streets so late. Well, not alone anyways. I usually go with a friend of mine, but he’s in the store right now.”
Okay, good. If he was quick about it, he might actually be able to pull this off. So Virgil took a deep breath, took the stranger’s face in his hand and forced the eye contact, with a smirk. “I see. You will do as I say and answer al my questions, then.” The stranger barely had any time to gasp in shocked recognition before his body went lax.
“Good. Now, who are you?” “My name is Roman Royals.”
“How old are you?” “Nineteen years.”
“And you are completely human?” “Yes.”
“Do you know Janus?” “I do.”
“What is he to you?” “My boyfriend.”
“And is Janus human?” “Yes.” Virgil let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he heard that answer. So at least Janus hadn’t told him anything.
“Okay, last question: You just said ‘we’ when you talked about the church. Why?” “My father’s the priest there.”
Well, fuck. Did Janus know? Probably, he did a background check on the barista he gets his coffee from now. So why did he stick around Roman if he knew? What kind of bullshit was he pulling here? Virgil sighed heavily. “I see. Well, you will forget this ever happened. You just told me where to go and I was on my way. Got it?”
Roman nodded absentmindedly and Virgil let the hypnosis drop, sprinting home without checking that Roman actually forgot what had happened. He just had to get away from there, away from Roman, the priest’s son.
Shock turned to fear pretty fast, and fear to terror. Terror turned into a lack of air and that lack of air turned into helplessness. It was unfortunate that Janus came home right when that helplessness just finished its slow transformation to rage. Not unfortunate for Virgil, but certainly unfortunate for Janus. And Janus could tell the moment he closed the door and locked eyes with Virgil.
For a few moments everything was silent. Then, Virgil pointed out in a voice colder than ice: “You’re late. From happy hour to blue hour, again.” Janus nodded slowly. “Yes… I lost track of time.”
Virgil didn’t even acknowledge that lie with a response, which told Janus enough about how damn angry he had to be. So Janus gave a nervous smile, swallowing dry. They both knew how dangerous Virgil could be if he wanted to. He had always been their best fighter, amongst other dangerous but useful qualities. Janus cleared his throat. “Right. As you said, Virge, it’s pretty late, so I should probably go to bed. Good day.”
“Don’t”, Virgil interrupted Janus’ fast retreat dead in his tracks, making his friend stop dead in his tracks, “lie to me, Janus. I know about him.”
“What?” The question was a mere whisper, probably even imperceptible to the human ear. But neither of them were human, were they? That was kind of the problem, so Virgil certainly heard. He didn’t answer, though, only looked Janus dead into his eyes. So Janus asked again, this time a little louder though still full of shocked uncertainty: “What do you mean?”
“I mean”, Virgil answered through clenched teeth as he stalked forward towards Janus, “I know what you’ve been up to every night. I mean I know about your stupid ass decision. I mean, Janus, that I know about the Royals boy.”
“How do you know about Roman? You never even leave the house!”
“For good reason! Or have you forgotten why we came here at all? Have you forgotten about the fire that did that” - Virgil pointed uncharacteristically expensively to the light burn marks on the side of Janus’s face that started to stand out more in the morning light - “to you? And then you go and, what, jump at the first decent looking human you can find?”
“No! Of cause I didn’t forget. But this is fine, we’re fine, we’re safe, I promise.”, Janus was quick to defend, but it didn’t do him any good. Virgil only let out a humorless laugh.
“Oh? Is it? You are always out with a human, whose family runs the church no less, and come back so close to dawn that you arrive seriously injured. So, please, tell me, Janus, are you stupid?! Or just randomly suicidal? Which one is it, huh?!”
“Really, Virgil. I’m being honest right now.”, Janus insisted, even taking off his gloves to show the trembling hands underneath and painting a cross above his heart. “He… Roman, isn’t like that. He’s different. This is different. You have to believe me!”
“Funny. That’s what Remy said, too. And then the fucking house was brunt down by the fucking human. Tell me, how did that go? Hm? Where’s our coven now? Our home?! It’s only you, me, and the two unconscious brothers upstairs that’s left!”
Janus tried and failed to hide the pain that crossed his face remembering that night, whispering: “No one could have seen that coming…”
“I did!”, Virgil cried angrily and desperate, ”I did, and you didn’t listen to me, and now it’s happening again, and you don’t listen to me again, do you?!”
A beat passed by before either of them did anything again. It was Janus who moved first, straightened his back defiantly and moved out of his defensive position, crossing his arms and shaking his head slightly. “No, I will not. And I don’t have to, either. In case you forgot, I am the leader of this coven, so I get to decide. Maybe I should have listened to you back then, but that was back then and now is right now. This conversation is over.”
“It’s not.”, Virgil sighed defeatedly. He didn’t make eye contact anymore but watched the sun rise through the protective glass instead. “I won’t stand around and watch this happening again. If you don’t end things with him, I will end things with you.”
“Are you… Virgil, is that an ultimatum? Are you making me choose between you and him?”, Janus asked in disbelieve. He wanted to get angry at Virgil, but he could see the pained expression on his friend’s face. His shoulders were shaking and tears started to silently race down his face, as he whispered with a broken voice: “I just can’t see that happen again, Jan. I’m sorry, but I just… Just, please.”
Janus sighed. “How long have you known me for, Virgil? Six-hundred years?” “Five-hundred-thirty-five. Since the fourteen-eighties.”, Virgil nodded absentmindedly.
“Right.”, Janus softly continued, drawing soothing circled on Virgil’s back. ”I got us through the times of the witch trials, I got us through two world wars, I got us through the development of photography and videos. I protected us from werewolves, aristocrats, christian fanatics, fanatic civilians, homophobes and even nazis. So why would you ever mistrust me?”
“Because you are a liar by nature.”, Virgil answered without missing a beat. But he also sighed, leaning against Janus. “But… It’s not you I have troubles trusting.”
“Only because you don’t know him yet. Roman won’t hurt us.”, Janus insisted again
 Virgil scoffed: “He’s human.”
“So where you. But I gave you a chance, didn’t I? When everyone was avoiding you because your mother used to be a witch?”
The silence dragged on and on, until Virgil finally pulled away and walked towards the stairs. “I’m gonna hit the hay, tonight was fucking exhausting.”
“Virgil?” Janus’ voice was so soft and breakable right now, so very vulnerable, and Virgil couldn’t even bare to look at him. So he sighed, almost out of sight, hesitating before finally saying: “One dinner. Tell him I’ll cook dinner for us the night after tomorrow, nine in the afternoon. He’ll get his chance to make me trust him then, and if he does he can stay. But that’s all he gets, just that one dinner.”
And then he left, leaving a smiling, somewhat relieved Janus down in the entrance hall. Now all he had to do was tell Roman. And maybe, in time, the two most important people in his life would actually get along some time soon. He sure hoped they would. But for now, a chance was good enough.
For now.
Masterpost: here
Prompt-chart and one-shots: here 
Taglist:  @gattonero17
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Eomer ~ Charity
1,000 Followers Challenge!
Requested by Anon
Words: 1,825
Warnings: Slight angst, injured character, homeless character, witch reader, threatened reader
Not going to lie, I struggled to write this one and I’m not overly happy with it.
You found Eomer wounded, alone and barely conscious.  It took some time to get him back to your home, barely being able to manage the dead weight of the man, but it was the only way to ensure he was safe from whatever managed to do this to him in the first place.
It was easy to tell he was a high ranked soldier, that he’d spent most of his life fighting, he was perhaps even royalty, something you learnt later to be true, and while unsure of who were bringing to your house, you had no doubt of his quality.
Normally, you were careful of such things, after all, most were untrustworthy of you, but you’d always had a generous nature and helped, even unseen, where you could.
Eomer’s wounds were many and you knew it would take some time for him to heal, with magic at your fingertips and many years of knowledge behind you, you were quick to mend the worst to minor and put any worry that creased his unconscious brow to rest.
It did not make him any less cautious when he woke.
“Who are you?”  His voice, cracked as it was, broke through the silence of your home as you sat reading over a book.
You cast him a warm smile.  “I am Y/N, and you my good, are lucky I found you otherwise I doubt you would be in this world any longer.”
Eomer’s nose screwed up as he focused a bleary-eyed gaze on you. “The witch?”
Sighing, you stand and hurry over to him as he tries to sit, quickly resting a gentle hand on his chest to keep him lying down.  “A white witch, if you must know, one that has tended to your wounds while you slept and certainly not dared on doing anything foul, even if I was capable of such things.”
He blinks at you, his mind still foggy and his body still in pain.  “Why?”
Smiling, you grab a mug of water and hold it out to him, allowing him to drink.  “Because I like to help, not hinder.”  He sinks into the bed, clearly exhausted.  “Would you care to do the same courtesy my lord and tell me your name?”
“Eomer.”  He said in a far away voice as he falls back into slumber.  “Eomer.”
He wasn’t just royalty; he was the king of Rohan.
This came as a little more troubling to you than it should have, knowing that soldiers would no doubt be out looking for their wounded king, and if they found him here, no matter what you said to those you met, superstition would always win out, the memories of the war still all too fresh.
But still, you cared for him, and slowly, his days of consciousness grew longer, as did your conversations, and he grew more comfortable in your presence, quickly realising what a fool he’d been and that he was sorry to have misjudged you.
You shrugged it off, used to it, but you couldn’t deny the small satisfaction and smile it gave you to have one of such standing say so.
Finally, Eomer asked for a way to send word to his people, to let them know that he was safe and where they could find him.
You agreed, but only he would not mention you and mention somewhere far from your home.  He did so without question.
It was strange being alone again after him being there for so long, and you found, for the first time in a very long time, that you were growing lonely, missing your conversations, missing the way he seemed to take in every word that you were saying, even though, in hindsight, you knew if couldn’t make sense to him.
You missed Eomer.  The revelation was startling to you and a second you doubted what you felt, having been alone for so long, but no, you did genuinely miss him.
One day you went to the closest village, having not been since rescuing him and wanting to try and put thoughts of him aside, and while it mostly worked, the curl of smoke you on the horizon as you returned home, made your stomach twist.
The soldiers had burnt everything.
There was nothing left your home but smouldering ruins by the time your reached it, tears stinging at your eyes as you stared at the black remains, the basket in your hands falling to the ground.  You were left with nothing besides the clothes on your back and the contents of the basket now being blown in the wind.
You had never felt so alone.
It seemed for days that you wondered, trying to get someone to allow you to stay, but no one would, it seemed too that the soldiers had pre warned all the closest villages and people and what you were, and the longer this went one, the more your stomach burned with something you never wanted.
Disdain.
Hatred.
Fear.
You could be all three to all those that encountered you if you so desired.
Finally, you found an inn willing to let you stay the night, only rumours having reached them, and your head had barely hit the pillow before you slept.
When you awoke, there were angry voices outside.  Still weary, you walked out, it taking much longer than it should have to recognise Eomer.
Fury curled in your stomach as he caught sight of you, quick to hurry after you as you turned on your heel back into your room.
“Y/N wait!”
“Why should I Eomer?”  You snarled coldly, taking him back.  “I owe you nothing.”
“For that I’m well aware,” He agreed quickly.  “It is I that owe you much, especially now, but I want you to know that this wasn’t my doing.”
“I’m sure.”
He grabs your arm and stops you as you try and bundle the small things you have together and glare at him, making him pause for a moment before he sighs and lets you go.
“I am sorry,” He said quietly, stepping back.  “When word reached of complaints against a witch in my hold, the soldiers had already acted without an order.  If I had known, if I had been there, then this would never have happened.  I am so sorry Y/N.  You deserve much more than this.”
You gather your things in your arms and go to move past him, to leave, not wanting to hear whatever else he had to say.
“Come back with me,” Eomer said as you walked past, making you freeze at the door.  “Come back with me Y/N, I can show my people what good you do.  Please.”
“What good I do?”  You asked bitterly.  “The good I do seems to only be turned back on my head.”
Eomer sighs sadly.  “I know, and I could never say sorry enough times for that, but please let me try, please let me take you somewhere safe.  I owe you that much.”
A moment passed, then two, as you thought heavily and what you wanted to do before you slowly came to realisation that you had no choice. “Are you sure?”
His gaze never left you.  “Absolutely.  You have a place in my home, as much space as you need, and my full support.”
Hesitation bubbled in your stomach but you turned to look at him, turned to see the earnestness in his gaze and nod.  “Very well Eomer.  Let’s see how it goes.”
There was a lot of buzz as you arrived and settled in, and while they trusted their kings word, they begin to wonder exactly what happened to him when he had gone missing.
It didn’t take long for rumours to circulate that you had him under a spell, after all, the villages discussed, had not Theoden fallen under the same thing?
You ignored what you could, but it wasn’t made easy when Eomer seemed to constantly be somewhere other than where you wanted him to be, your conversations few and far between, caught between meetings and trips and training with soldiers.  You weren’t sure why, but a part of you had been hoping that it would be somewhat like you’d had before.
But soon, the cold words and mistrustful gazes grew too much and you knew you had to move on.
Eomer stopped you.  “You cannot possibly be thinking of leaving?”
“Why should I not?”  You asked, sounding harsher than you intended.  “I am not wanted here, no matter who I helped, so therefore there is no reason I should stay.”
“Of course there is,” He said, reacting to the tone in your voice.  “You are here by my wishes, helping the people and answering questions when I need advice.  That should be enough for them.”
“Well, it’s not enough for me!”  You snap, rounding on him.  “I am no worse than a rat to them!  Something to glare at as if they’ve found me in the larder and I can’t take it anymore Eomer!  Your guards shadow me, rather poorly, in the halls and no one stops and thinks to even have a conversation with me.  Do you have any idea how lonely that gets?  Especially when you give nothing but your heart?”
“Then I will set them straight!”
“You haven’t been here!”
“Well, I’m here now and I’m staying.  I will get this sorted right now!”
“Do you think you could at least try to love me?”  You shouted angrily, blinking furiously away to stop any tears.  “Do you think that I could be shown even one shred of decency as another human being?”
Eomer stared at you, his eyes wide for a moment, but you were beyond caring at the careless words that tumbled from you, too tired and worn to be fighting back while still hiding the truth.
“That’s all I want Eomer,” You said, turning away from him. “I want someone to love me, just as I love everyone.  It is tiring only being one-sided.”
Neither of you were sure what possessed Eomer in that moment, but his feet carried him to you and without warning, his lips pressed to yours, startling you and finally making the reality of your words sink in.
He broke away, his hands cupping your cheeks as he holds your gaze, his eyes begging.  “Give me one more chance, I can make all this right, make it all go away and give you the life you deserve.  Just one more chance, then you can leave if it’s still not…not the way it should be. Please.  Please Y/N?”
Tentatively, you reach up and lightly brush your finger along his lips, a little in awe and definitely still in shock, your voice quiet. “One more chance Eomer, just one more.”
Eomer nods firmly before pulling you back into a kiss, holding you close, even as you wondered exactly how things could possibly change and be better than this.
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galaxy-parchment · 5 years
Text
Vampire AU
1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6  : 7 : 8 : 9 : 10 : 11 (you are here) : 12 : 13 : 14 : 15 (coming soon)
I swear every time I write a chapter I’m like ‘oh yeah thats long enough’ and then I check the word count and it’s actually a really short chapter. When this finally gets posted to A/O3 I might just merge some chapters because this is turning out to have way more chapters than I expected.
Frankenstein was babbling about her misadventures as a disgraced hermit proudly as the lodgers were huddled up in front of her with their legs crossed as if they were children enthusiastically listen to their grandfather regale his exciting tales of war.
“For two long months I wandered that godforsaken forest, surviving on nothing but rain water and lizard guts! Tormented day and night by my own personal demon!” She regaled, gesturing to Creature, who was uncomfortably huddled up beside her bed and reluctantly listening to the woman tell her exaggerated stories.
Henry stepped through the crowd with a large case held carefully in his hands as he shooed off the lodgers so that he could treat Frankenstein, who was anything but happy to see him and seemed to be deciding whether or not to slap him across the face again.
He gingerly placed his chemistry kit on a nearby table as Frankenstein’s face remained annoyed and mistrusting. She gave a heavy huff of breath and turned away from him.
“I thought I told you to leave me alone” she said, struggling through coughs between her words.
“Regardless of either of our feelings I’m afraid I’m going to have to treat you, or your ‘personal demon’ over there may have something to say about it” he half-joked, Creature making no move to deny his statement. “besides, what sort of an alchemist would I be if I couldn’t cure someone as esteemed as yourself?” he said, holding up a flask from his chemistry kit.
“I have no doubt that you will kill me with your amateur skills!” Frankenstein retorted, glaring at him.
Jekyll continued to engage in intellectual banter while he mixed the ingredients to the antidote. Frankenstein was becoming increasingly alarmed at his deep knowledge of alchemy but refused to show any hint of weakness. As he finished the medicine, there was a pregnant pause, though Frankenstein was simply waiting for Jekyll to finish up and finally leave. He held the mixture up in front of his eyes and peered into it, checking that it was completed, then lowered it down in front of him before looking at Frankenstein more seriously than he had before.
“I must admit, I have a favour to ask of you…” he said firmly.
Frankenstein chuckled, “Ah! So you admit that your skills are inferior!”
Jekyll sighed, “No… it’s something different… I noticed that you seem to have become quite popular among the lodgers, I don’t think I need to explain why.”
“Yes? I know this.” Frankenstein answered, raising an eyebrow.
“I was hoping you’d look out for any strange behaviour that I may be missing, since they’ve been acting far more comfortable with you than have been with me recently.”
“Perhaps they are seeing through your lies. This is your own fault, I am simply revealing the truth to them!”
“This isn’t about me, it’s about keeping everybody safe!” Jekyll said, the anger is his voice was clear though stifled.
“What sort of strange behaviour then, Doctor? Signs of showing free will? Signs of the spark of creativity breaking away from the chains of London aristocracy?”
“No! I mean if they’re acting suspicious in any way, you know, if anyone has been acting like…” he stopped short, circling his hand through the air absently, unsure of whether to continue. This was an awful idea, why did he even consider asking her to do this.
“Like what? I cannot look for something if I do not know what I am looking for,” she insisted.
“Can I trust you to keep quiet? At least to the lodgers?”
She pondered for a moment and looked up at Creature, who simply nodded. She turned back to him with a curious grin on her face, “Very well, we will keep a secret.” Jekyll was silent for what felt like an eternity, but snapped himself back into reality and straightened his back out of the slight slouch it had sunk into.
“I think one of the lodgers is a vampire, you’re really the only one I can trust at this point since you couldn’t possibly be the vampire” He said quickly, forcing it out of himself before he could make up a lie and avoid the problem.
“I thought that Hyde fellow was a vampire?” Frankenstein asked. It seemed even the presence of the great Doctor Frankenstein couldn’t deter the lodgers from their gossiping.
“I have reason to believe that there was a second vampire with him on the night that you arrived, someone familiar with the Society. I’m sure you know how serious of an issue vampires are, especially in a crowded building like this.”
Frankenstein face was riddled with alarm, but she was determined not to show weakness in front of her sworn enemy and kept a strong gaze with him.
“I suppose I can look out for anything, since I’m sure someone as inexperienced as you could not possibly be able to see fine details as a good scientist can,” she smiled, “Besides, it will be fun to watch you learn the consequences of being an untrustworthy siren that knows nothing of the personal lives of the people he seeks to scrub clean.”
“Whatever makes you feel better, then. Here, this'll suppress your cough."
“Do you really expect me to drink this? Just because I’m helping you does not mean that I’ll swallow whatever mediocre mixture you put in front of me!”
“But how will you prove me wrong?” Jekyll asked, raising it further towards her.
She glared at him, annoyed by his logic, but nonetheless held her hand out expectantly. She took a long gulp and was quiet for a moment, observing the notable lack of scratchiness in her throat that she’d been subjected to for so long.
“Bah, just because you managed to… to…” Frankenstein’s eyes drooped and she felt the need to lie back onto her pillow. Jekyll smiled sweetly and pulled the bedcovers back over her.
“I may have added a touch of Moonsoaked Howlite to help you rest. I’m sure it will help you sleep on our agreement, since I’d be best that we fix the situation before the exhibition.”
“Ah, this is not happening”
“Well you’ve already agreed to help me so I’d appreciate for you to keep to your word.”
“No, I mean your exhibition is not happening, I already explained to your lodgers how this is a trap to lure them into the sedating poppy fields of the bourgeoisie,” she yawned and welcomed the overwhelming need to rest, laying down on her pillow, “Naturally, they all agreed to quit.” Jekyll stopped and stared at her in horror.
“What?” 
Jekyll spent what felt like an eternity standing over the bed, processing the information. Creature finally shifted from where he sat and spoke up.
“That’s quite a problem you have there”
“I’ll say, how are we supposed to stay open if nobody participates in the exhibition!”
“No, I mean your vampire problem, they’re quite dangerous when left unchecked,” Creature said simply, looking at Jekyll very intently.
“Yes, they are,” he closed up his chemistry kit and lifted it off of the table. He carried it out the door as Creature dismissed him.
“Do be careful, Doctor, I’d hate to see any harm come to my creator or to yourself.”
Jekyll didn’t bother replying.
-
The Society seemed less crowded with all of the fuss over Frankenstein. Not a soul in the building was occupied with anything other than swooning over the new resident celebrity or engaging in excited chatter in their rooms to stop themselves from giving into the temptation of sneaking up to her room. The lights were all turned off in the lobby, leaving an eerie darkness that Lanyon could see through easily, watching what few movements occurred in the building pondered what to do about Hyde. No matter how he went about it, he kept on wandering back to doing something particularly horrible.
He could frame Hyde. It would be easy. Everyone knew that he was a vampire, so all he really had to do was leave a few harmless clues, maybe make a targeted if deliberately unsuccessful attack. It would certainly be low of him to scare the lodgers like that but it was definitely an effective move.
Hyde was a menace, it was justified, he just needed to scare Henry into firing him. He couldn’t possibly come to any other conclusion if he did something as heinous as attempting to attack someone. Nobody would even get hurt in the process, it was foolproof, even if it was quite the backstab. Lanyon wasn’t one for lingering on his feelings anyway.
From his silent position by one of the pillars on the ground level, he spied Luckett sneaking off with Doddle, both of them giggling like teenage courters and obviously intending to have one of the ‘sleepovers’ that were so uncomfortably common within these walls. It was as good an opportunity as any, so Lanyon sighed and pushed himself off of the pillar, determined to get to work.
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malvoliowithin · 7 years
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ya boy Richard III
ALL of them? Ooh boy here we go:
❤️ why I love this character:
A lot of reasons, but one of the main ones is I love how diligent he is. I think that comes along with the fact that he doesn’t act entitled - which is good, his character could have easily been written as thinking he deserves the crown by rights but he doesn’t think that. He actually knows full well he doesn’t deserve it by rights but sees it more like a prize, something that you have to bleed and fight and kill and sacrifice for and so he’s not entitled to it, but if he puts the effort in then he can make himself worthy of it. 
Another thing - he’s not motivated by revenge or wanting everyone around him to suffer like he suffered or even sadistic malice (I mean, there’s gleefulness in his scheming but that’s not why he does what he does) his primary goal is actually his own happiness, and trying to find a place where he belongs in a world where he so clearly doesn’t. Which, of course, is incredibly misguided because murder is generally not a good path to happiness. But it’s still interesting since he could have been written as vengeful or just a plain sociopath, but he isn’t. 
💙 why I hate this character:
I mean… pick any number of qualities? He’s deceitful to everyone, including himself, he’s manipulative, sexist, bullying, untrustworthy, heck he’s most loyal to his own brother and then the second Edward’s dead he just starts murdering the shit out of his family. He kills children. I mean when he gets called fiend and a minister of hell that isn’t a lie. 
(Despite all this I do not hate him but there’s certainly plenty about him to hate) 
⁉️ what initially drew me to this character:
Okay I’m one of the weirdos who didn’t know who he was prior to reading, and I started with the H6 plays. So I was familiar with Richard III as the play about the creepy hunchbacked murdery dude but that was literally all I knew I didn’t know he was in multiple plays. 
Basically in 2H6 and early in 3H6 he’s this intense, loud, pissed-off little jerk who will fight anything that comes near him and has a code of family honor and really wants his dad to like him and is simultaneously attached to and also jealous of his brothers. He… kind of reminded me of a slightly meaner version of Hotspur, to tell the truth. And I just thought he was fun. And then at one point someone described him as having a crooked back and I was confused because… he had a crooked back? What…
And then the pieces fell into place.
And I LOVED his arc in 3H6. I think it defined him for me, and still does. But what really drew me in was his speech in act 5 scene 6 because man, I felt that. 
💕 who do I think this character is in love with (if anyone) and why:
No I don’t think he’s in love with anyone. I think he’s tolerant of Anne, mostly leaves her be, doesn’t really have a use for her for most of the play but doesn’t have a use for her death either so she’s just… there. I sort of headcanon that he wants to impress her and wants her to admire him but since he knows she’s not going to, it’s whatever. That’s not love though. That’s just him wanting attention.
I think with Buckingham he’s not in love with him either but they’re friends. And I think Richard would probably call him a friend too, although I don’t remember how he refers to him in canon. See, Buckingham is also a manipulative, scheming, ambitious devil. So they can be manipulative, scheming, ambitious devils together, and I think Richard could love in Buckingham the things he hated in himself. But obviously two untrustworthy people who are naturally suspicious and treacherous are eventually going to stop trusting each other and assume that the other is out for blood, which, honestly? I don’t think either of them were. It’s written as very hard to tell, but taken as a scene of genuine misunderstanding, it’s heartbreaking.
👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 what do I think this character’s feelings about their family are:
Depends on which family. I think overall he sees them as a commodity, and both an aid and a hindrance. They got him to be in line for the throne but now they’re all in the way.
I do think he loved his father, the canon even suggests that. He didn’t seem to be quite so soured on family loyalty until York was dead, and he has a few lines that are fairly admiring and affectionate, especially for him. 
Regarding George and Edward, they do seem to have been close at one point and their relationship throughout 3H6 is brotherly, but the two of them do turn on him first, at least from his perspective. Which is the interesting thing. Edward goes off to marry Elizabeth, and scandalizes the family name and ruins their prospects, while George betrays them for Warwick and the Lancasters. They come back together but the damage is done then, and Richard can write them off fairly quickly. He’s not forgiving, that’s the thing. 
With his mother… he respects her, but he doesn’t love her. Whenever he’s near her he seems to hold back; doesn’t really defend himself or retort as vehemently as he typically does. He doesn’t have a lot of scenes with her, though. He seems hesitant around her, which would indicate mistrust or even nervousness. But that may just be my reading. 
The rest of his family, his in-laws, including his nephews, are not family. They are enemies and he cares nothing for them. If they get in his way they will die. And often do. 
🕰 what do I think this character enjoys doing in their free time:
Plotting evil.
Also, I think he goes for walks a lot because they clear his head and he does like his time by himself. 
👿 who does this character hate more than anyone else:
I actually don’t know, I don’t think it’s ever made clear. I don’t think he hates most of the people he kills, so to speak, I think he at most resents them and in some cases is just apathetic and needs them gone.
Margaret would be a good contender, having killed his father and little brother, and then insulted him on numerous occasions, but I think the person he most hates…
Would be Henry. Think about it; Henry was given the crown as a baby, he never had to fight for it, never lost a family member in the taking of it except for a father he never knew anyway, he was just born with adoring subjects, the throne of England, and all the power in the world just handed to him and what does he do with all that honor? He tosses it aside and refuses to pick up a sword and spends his days doing anything in his power to avoid conflict, which I think to a man like Richard who would be willing to lay down his life and the lives of so many others in pursuit of the crown must seem like the most ungrateful and cowardly thing someone could possibly do. 
🌈 what is their relationship like with their romantic partner(s) ((cannon or not)):
I already kind of did this one for the love one earlier!
🌕 happy headcanon:
His father used to pet his hair when he was particularly proud of him and since then he’s always liked being petted, it reminds him of feeling safe and almost loved. He doesn’t allow it from many people, though. Only a few individuals are allowed to touch him without him pulling away or snapping. 
🌑 sad headcanon:
When he was five he first got called a toad and thought it was a compliment because toads are fun and have strong legs, so he didn’t really understand why that was what he was like, because his legs were weak and most people didn’t think he was all that enjoyable to be around.
He asked Edward and Edward told him it was because of his back. He didn’t really understand that, either. But he knew it wasn’t good. 
📂 random/obscure headcanon:
He’s sort of jealous of Edward’s ability to wear beautiful clothes and look nice in them. He puts very little thought into his appearance because - well, does it matter? But he still wishes he could look good. 
📱favorite/personal modern interpretation:
The Restaurant AU thing where he’s the manager and he’s highly perfectionistic, good at his job, and has reportedly killed everyone who left a bad review on Yelp. 
📺 favorite film interpretation:
I haven’t actually seen a full film of this whoops. I do appreciate the aesthetics of the Olivier version because of the dedication to the Bright Medieval Color Scheme and weird haircuts. 
🎻 a song I associate with this character:
When You’re Evil by Voltaire. 
📕 my ideal epilogue for this character (if they survived):
He didn’t survive whoops
📗 what I think would have happened to this character if they HAD survived:
Okay I’m actually in the process of writing a version of an AUWND in which he lives but bad shit happens to him.
In the proper canon… I don’t know? I mean I think he would have gotten a bit of an ego boost for surviving the Death Judgement that was passed on him the night before, but I mean… he would still have to go home and be lonely, sleepless, utterly despised and friendless. 
It’s possible he could have just ignored it but I think it would wear on him after a while. I mean, once he’s reached his goal he’s not nothing left to plan for to distract himself. So I think barring the idea of just having to face rebellion after rebellion and eventually getting killed he would probably try to rule well but eventually end up depressed and miserable. 
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gukyi · 7 years
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trustworthy | myg
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⇒ summary: alright, so maybe everyone dotes on and teases you and yoongi for being so irresistibly adorable together around campus, but you’re just friends, you swear.
⇒ {hogwarts!au}
⇒ pairing: yoongi x reader
⇒ word count: 2k
⇒ genre: fluff, fluff, and oh, did i say fluff?
⇒ a/n: in case ur a dedicated sorted fan, this drabble takes place in an alternate timeline and does not, whatsoever, interfere with the universe that the series takes place in. also, i know, i love writing about the hogwarts universe animals. fight me. requested by anon, and a total blast to write!
There’s a reason that yellow and green are right next to each other on the color spectrum, and there’s a reason why, out of all the students in the school, you’ve somehow managed, over the years, to befriend a Slytherin boy by the name of Yoongi.
The problem is, you don’t know what that reason in specific happens to be.
Yoongi is, to put it simply, the exact opposite of you. Self-assured, sulky, and certainly not the standard Hufflepuff’s best friend.
When you first started getting to know each other, it was by chance. Partners in a first-year Herbology lab led to greeting each other in the library, to sitting next to each other in joint Potions classes, to eating dinner together behind some statue, away from the hubbub of the Great Hall. Yoongi was frightfully easy to talk to, especially for someone so stoic, and the both of you found it terribly easy to maintain a conversation between each other. Suddenly you were making time between classes to meet up in the hallways, feeding each other different treats provided so generously by the tables in the Great Hall, becoming friends. Suddenly, though somehow also slowly, you were friends.
Fast forward to your final year, where your friendship with Yoongi has anything but wilted. In fact, it’s blossomed into something beautifully meaningful, a relationship you would be a fool not to pursue once the both of you are forcefully shoved into the real world with real people responsibilities. Yoongi is your best friend, and if he were to deny that to any of his other friends, well, that’s just the Slytherin in him talking.
He does diminish the level of friendship the two of you collectively stand on to most people who talk to you about it, when they deem it appropriate to approach the both of you as you’re having an In-Depth Conversation about someone or something. It’s a well-known fact in your year that the two of you are not to be bothered when you’re spending time together, because, while you stand with your arms wide open and a smile stretched on your face, he is grumpy and does not lack the confidence to reveal that to anyone who may test their luck with him. However, just because the folks in your year know that it would be wise not to bother you, the other students, not so much, and that is why you are often bombarded with questions from curious underclassmen who have never seen a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff share such a close relationship.
Everyone always tells you how cute the two of you look together, breaking House Norms one sincere conversation at a time, but Yoongi always insists that you’re just friends, and you always follow up with, “Friends can be cute, too, can’t they?”
And so it goes.
---
Over the years, you’ve developed a habit of trotting down to the school grounds to take care of the animals the Care of Magical Creatures classes often tend to, just because they never get enough time to spend with the students to actually feel cared for, and one professor isn’t going to change that. Those poor Bowtruckles need all of the love they can get, hiding out in the Forbidden Forest amongst the leaves and the bark.
You know it is so awfully typical of a good-natured, compassionate Hufflepuff like yourself to take precious time out of your day just to make sure the Nifflers weren’t bored to death—of course you know, for Yoongi wastes no opportunity to remind you—but even Yoongi’s picked up on the pastime, often accompanying you after a quiet grumble and a soft smile flashed your way.
It’s just something you’d like to do as the end of the year fast approaches, your classes beginning to die down as teachers wrap up all of the content they could possibly educate you on during your stay at Hogwarts, and if Yoongi is happy to join you, then by all means he shall.
He’s even started interlocking your pinkies as you walk down from the castle to the grounds where all of the animals stay, his little finger hooking onto yours as you make your way along the stone path, swinging your arms about ever so gently. You hardly think much of it, since your friendship has always been quite touchy, even if Yoongi doesn’t like to admit it. It’s just another one of those quirks the two of you share, like how whenever he pouts, you prod his chipmunk cheeks with your pointer fingers, or how he’ll always stock up on the school’s brownies whenever they’re served, since he knows how much you love indulging in them. There are simply just some things over the years that neither of you desire to forget.
You’re playing with the Kneazles today, sitting with your back against the fence of the area in which they reside. They’ve taken quite a liking to you, actually, their original mistrust of you put long behind their fluffy tails. You suppose that they don’t find a kindhearted Hufflepuff particularly dangerous. They do, however, have a long streak of mutual dislike with Yoongi, who hisses at them in response to whenever he sees you playing amongst them. He complains whenever he relents and joins you with spending time with the animals, but he’s especially awful when it comes to the Kneazles, and they don’t treat him any better.
A couple of the Kneazles have begun to settle down against your legs, resting their heads on your shins. One particular one, a small grey kitten that must have just been adopted, since you’ve never seen it before, has made itself quite comfortable on your lap, purring happily as you stroke it. It’s peaceful, sitting in nature and taking in the sounds of the leaves rattling from the wind and the soft rumble that spills from the Kneazles.
It becomes less peaceful when suddenly all of the Kneazles start moving around, hisses erupting from their mouths that could only signal one thing.
“Oh, fuck off, will you?”
You whip your head around to see Yoongi glaring at no Kneazle in particular, nose scrunched up as he nears you.
“Why are you with them?” He groans at you, opening the fence enclosure and taking a seat next to you. The Kneazles have stopped hissing, or, at least, you can’t hear them hiss anymore, for they’ve all darted far away from where Yoongi’s sat down.
“It’s been two weeks since I last played with them,” you tell him in response, trying to coax one of the Kneazles back by holding out your fingers. “I can’t just abandon them.”
“But they hate me.”
“But you hate them.”
“Touché.”
Yoongi leans back against the fence, hands the ground as you chat about nothing and everything in particular. You often find yourselves in positions like these, pressed next to each other like it’s nobody’s business, laughing like you’re the only ones in the world. Yoongi’s fingers dance across the grass, making their way towards yours as you crack some awful joke about Time-Turners that have Yoongi shaking his head. He lets his hand rest almost entirely atop yours, and you don’t really think anything much of the way your heartbeat has increased, even though you’re both sitting down.
You click your tongue, trying to attract one of the Kneazles, but none of them budge. You keep rubbing your fingers together, voice that high-pitched whine that you always make whenever you see an animal or a baby, desperate to show them that Yoongi means no harm, even though he might be a little grouchy.
Just as Yoongi tells you that it’s no use trying to lure them in, since they hate him as much as he hates them, one moves. It’s the tiny grey one, the kitten that’s just arrived to the grounds, and it’s taking a tentative step towards Yoongi, nose stretched out to get a whiff of the boy. The little kitten makes its way out of the pack, constantly sniffing as he approaches Yoongi. The Kneazle makes eye contact with you as you look in awe towards it before turning to look at Yoongi, who looks equally surprised. Within a minute, the baby has settled very comfortable on Yoongi’s lap, snoring quietly.
“I guess it likes me,” Yoongi jokes, still very unsure on what to do with this thing in his lap. You know Kneazles, you know that they don’t take kindly to untrustworthy strangers, and you wonder what on Earth might have prompted this one to take up residence amongst Yoongi’s legs. It clearly trusts Yoongi, more than the rest of them, at least, but what gives?
Yoongi reaches a hand down to pet it, pausing and jerking his hand around since he’s never done this before, and you look at him, eyes downturned and almost closed, hair blowing around in the spring breeze, soft smile on his face as he pets the creature on his lap.
“Yoongi?” You ask slowly.
He peers up at you, mouth open in an excited grin as he points at the ball of grey fur resting on his legs. “Look, Y/N!” He exclaims quietly.
You don’t know what sort of wave washes over you, but you do little to fight the urge that causes you to lean in closer to him, eyes transfixed on those soft lips of his.
“Y/N?” He asks again.
You shut him up easily, pressing your lips firmly onto his before your brain catches up with your beating heart. Yoongi makes some sort of noise of surprise, but he closes his eyes and easily melts into the kiss, and strangely enough, it feels like arriving home after a year at Hogwarts and stepping through those big gated doors for the first time all at once. It’s familiar and new, the taste of his lips, and you can’t really get enough.
Before you know it, you’re getting pushed away from him, but not by any person who’s so rudely interrupted you. It’s the rest of the Kneazles, and they’re climbing all over you and Yoongi, clearly pleased with the both of you.
Yoongi laughs, bottom lip a little swollen from where you might have accidentally bitten down on it, letting the Kneazles overrun him as he fills his hands with the feeling of their fur.
“I think they like you,” you comment.
“I think I like you,” he replies. You glance up at him, mouth agape the tiniest bit. “More than a friend, that is.”
Yoongi’s hand is now entirely on top of yours, fingers rubbing circles along your skin. You crack a smile. “Me too.”
---
It’s probably the Kneazles—though Yoongi’s never been particularly good at keeping his mouth shut when he’s excited about something—that have spread the message around the school that the two of you have finally decided to stop dancing around each other and just date, already. Now, when people tell you that you look cute together, Yoongi doesn’t object. Rather, he pecks you on the cheek as the grip he has on your hand grows tighter, saying, “Yes, we are cute together.”
And, just as always, so it goes.
⇒ leave any feedback/requests here and check out my masterlist here!
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akria23 · 7 years
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The one with the foundation:
I’ve heard Sterek referred to as a crackship more time than I can remember. Every time however, I find myself laughing more than side eyeing, and that’s not just because this is a term usually used by the same fools that think we have enough power to ruin their ship but not enough intelligence to alter the reality of our own…
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No, you’ll often hear many stereks say that Sterek is the only ship within Teen Wolf that’s makes much sense romantically. That’s not just them bragging on our fabulous ship. That’s them speaking on the natural authenticity that makes up the duo. The potential that was squandered and tossed aside. The fact that reality that unlike some Sterek isn’t built on the pretense of only exterior planes, created to steer the story.  But, the fact that they’re compatible because of internal builds that genuinely comes from own individual personality.  That their development points are naturally highlighted. There obstacles already would’ve been set. Haters call Sterek a crackship when it’s one of the few relationships in the show that kinda writes itself.
Thats in part the reason we’ve got the most fics....
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Romance in story form is essentially the viewing of two characters falling for the true essence of one another. They have the ability to not only see each other for who they truly are under their self-created mask, but also show the audience the potential they both individually cater to and through their relationship the growth both can substantially achieve. A character’s ‘perfect match’ is one of logical reasoning. Motivation, like it does with everything else, pushes the romantic subplot. These characters are thought to be destined because they ‘fit’ so well, because every portion of them from back-story to personality connects and expand their story.
Stiles is the only character that appropriately fits Derek. Love/trust was Derek’s downfall. Love/trust would have been the development he had to grow through (internal growth). It was his wall to climb so to speak. It created his mask, it’s his internal struggle. So why Stiles…(The main ones for now) He’s human, he’s young, and he’s the opposite of Derek’s stoic. What is the recurring theme between these two characters? That’s right…if you said trust, give yo self a gold star! Basically he connects to every element of Derek’s back-story…and internal struggle. Stiles could have been (should’ve been) the walking dynamite. Their relationship would have placed Derek in the position of remaking choices on some previously bad decisions. Falling for Stiles creates the process of having to face the past and therefore having a chance to…oh yes…grow from it. When I say old issues I mean the offset of Kate and Paige – meaning – love/loss, fear, trust, fault, intimacy, fragility, betrayal.
Understand this, Derek had 2 levels of love…he should’ve had 3 to bring it full circle. Love was taken from him via Kate and then he also took it from himself via Paige, it would’ve been earned back via Stiles. Fear was relearned via Kate and consumed him via Paige, it would’ve been overcame via Stiles.  Betrayal was the only truth via Kate and the lesson via Paige,the growth point via Stiles. Fault was set via Kate and began via Paige, and would’ve been reassessed via Stiles. Intimacy was a lie via Kate and naïve via Paige, reborn/real via Stiles. Fragility was himself via Kate and life via Paige, it becomes nonexistent via Stiles.  Trust was betrayed via Kate and never given via Paige, it then would’ve been a meeting ground via Stiles.
The verses of Love:
Paige’s love was young and fresh before he had known that a touch can be a betrayal. That kisses and unspoken connections can hide true intentions. It was his tragic end with this young girl that started his belief of falling short, of finding fault in himself. Fear wasn’t something Paige gave into, she liked him wholeheartedly, knowing his kept secret.  Derek however, gave into the fear of her being a lesser species, of her not being able to accept who and what he was, and it led him to taking choice out of her hands. He assumed her mortality to be a fragility.  To be human is to be weaker, to be lesser in just about every aspect. Easily manipulated, overpowered, and killed. Derek even didn’t have true understanding of humans and therefore also lack understanding and true respect for them as creatures with their own capability.
The things he found so lacking in humans as far as his last relationship goes, Kate taught him otherwise. He learned of the destruction and chaos they’re capable of and his own weakness. Kate loved making him realize how small he was. She defined powerlessness for him. Every corner that had strength for him, she erased. She was proof that humans could be dangerous and overpowering. She was a master at using anything in her arsenal, from weapons to her body and simple emotion, as a way of getting close, as a way of getting what she wanted. It goes without saying that the things Kate did to Derek left a huge impression on him and how he reacts and interacts with others – def humans. When we meet him, he has no interest in such creatures, much less any respect for them. It’s not to say he hated humans, but his experiences hadn’t shed light to those being good bonds to create (those that weren’t already there).
And then there’s Stiles.  He’s human, but this does not stop him from being intelligent, a protector, and necessary on the battlefield. He is usually one of the first volunteering to go when a life is in danger.  He has in fact fought many creatures with more physical strength than he. He does not however feel a need to make these creatures feel powerless. By no means desires to truly over power them. He is not threatened by allowing Derek to have his own natural abilities. Has many times called for those abilities and admired them. Has been the thing that has saved Derek’s own life and protected that of his younger sister. Fragility was the line between human and wolf and Kate failed to toe it during their relationship and so did Derek during his relationship with Paige. His relationship with Stiles could have furthered what he was already doing through Stiles - learning to respect humans and their natural abilities. . We get a Derek that learns to not only accepts Stiles touch in his most vulnerable moments but also drags him in himself (i.e the dream).
           Being a young human helps Stiles complete Derek’s cycle because of the mirror action that places Derek either on the other side of his narrative or places him back at the hinge of old decisions. This is the narratives time to test him and see how he comes out the other side. The story could have explored many plots that connected to Derek’s past. For example Stiles mortality. There have been moments in the show that’s hinted at Stiles desiring power of some kind and that was never explored in a way that really tested him and his desires. The mortality issue being a theme in their relationship would have mirrored his issue with Paige and put him on the edge of that decision making again. Same for the age and the decision it could’ve been brought to the table.
But, these topics (love/loss, fear, trust, and fault) are also things Stiles and Derek share similarities in and could have really stimulated pure understanding of someone else. Stiles mother/Derek’s Parent’s plus sister – Losing those they care about – Nogitsune/Kate – Falling short and finding the consequences to be upon their shoulders. Derek could’ve really helped Stiles through a lot of stuff he went through, except the show just always glazed over everything.
Part 2 Sneak:
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The Dynamic:
Fear, trust, love. I find most people never look further than the surface when it comes to the first two. Often people take the glare and threat scenes and define that as the dynamic, forgetting the other important moments that highlight oppositions. Stiles is often the one to seek Derek or place himself within Derek’s vicinity. No shortage of smart mouthing off, nicknaming, or standing up for himself, or even for Derek. It’s the same with mistrust, I think that was something that went out the window quicker than Stiles would have liked. He wanted to mistrust Derek, more than he actually mistrusts Derek. In fact, a few times we see Stiles requesting Derek’s trust (i.e “Yeah you need to trust us…BOTH of us!” or “Can’t you just trust me?” scenes). This aspect reveals more of their own inner need. Knowing that he’s one of the few characters that knows of Derek’s past and seeks to find out more, it makes sense that he desires this man’s trust on some level. Trust takes value over terms like love for these two people because they’re the types that would find it difficult to speak of such things. Trust has been a squabble for Stiles since early in the show. Not so much about him trusting others but getting other to believe in him (Lydia, his father, his mother through her sickness [give or that that confusing narrative], and then later Scott). Whereas for Derek it’s been people being untrustworthy (his uncle, Kate, himself, Jennifer, Scott). This is why the ‘dream’ moment is so powerful. Because in this moment the audience gets to view how valuable Stiles is in Derek’s mind/perspective.  Derek’s mind seeks out Stiles to buffer the trauma, because he trusts him, there’s no fragility in Stiles what so ever. He is the rock that calms Derek and gets him to accept what needs accepting without subterfuge. It makes sense that his minds goes there because most often when he’s waking from some kind of danger it’s to the face of Stiles. Stiles has been there for him physically, emotionally, and/or mentally since they’ve met, despite all, despite any. That wasn’t the first time Derek had gone to Stiles. It is however, the first time we get so many layers together for them in a scene – fear, trust, fragility(lack of), and intimacy.
Note: I’m telling a lie...the second part will probably be long cause this one got nothing in it lol. But I think it the last for my Teen Wolf Articles so - shrugs.
Teen Wolf Articles
Scott McCall
Stiles Stilinski
Derek Hale
Sterek: Foundation
Sterek: BWRWW: Derek
Upcoming: Sterek BWRWW: Stiles
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