#Very curious... Please elaborate on your choice in the tags if you care to.

[the-magpie-archives]

#Very curious... Please elaborate on your choice in the tags if you care to. #I personally would never leave. Access to those resources in an academic environment along with otherworldly knowledge? #Ideal employment opportunity. #But probably the murder and stuff is offputting to some people. #Also ik technically you couldn't leave at all during most of S5 but you could for like... The first two episodes? #tma #the magnus archives #the magnus institute #jonathan sims #the archivist #tma polls

[utilitycaster]

Regarding your tags: do you mind elaborating on the Rumblecusp thing? I caught up to streams during the Aeor arc and didn't really see fandom stuff earlier, so I'm a bit curious what you meant by that? Thanks in advance!

(in reference to this post)

Not at all! Basically, during the Rumblecusp arc, there was a lot of back and forth of who was Ackshually Supportive of Jester And Her Choices, and, with the admission that I myself am not a neutral person in these discussions, they all conveniently aligned with the decisions of the character they most shipped with Jester:

Caleb generally let her do whatever and stayed out of it, which was interpreted by people who shipped him and Jester as him supporting her (because he lets her do whatever), but leaves out the context of Caleb's whole canonical deal of feeling he cannot judge other people or tell them what to do in their own personal matters because he feels he has no moral position to do so; ie, this is not explicit support of Jester but rather how Caleb interacts with basically anything in which he is not directly involved. Do note also: Caleb tries but fails to have Cat's Claw grab Jester when she holds on to Artagan; there is, clearly, a point where he will oppose her choices.

Beau was pretty against Artagan the entire time. Honestly I think Beau punching him was very funny and she did, to her credit, ask permission first, but anyway, this was interpreted as Beau protecting Jester from The Traveler's malice. And, to be clear, he did bring them to Memory Loss Island on purpose, and while he promised Jester he'd have helped her, it's fair to have concerns about that. But Beau - understandably, since she frankly doesn't have good relationships that date back to early childhood the way Jester does - never quite seems to grasp how important Artagan is to her, and that you can be frustrated with him (hell, Jester is) and worried about Jester while still acknowledging that cutting off Artagan entirely will never be on the table. (Given Beau's mechanics, she is unable really to interfere with Jester being pulled up into the sky so I can't judge her on that).

Fjord ends up in the middle. Jester specifically seeks out his opinion, and he essentially says "look, we will support you as long as you're not being forced to change yourself to suit Artagan." He and Beau also agree to intervene with the Traveler as needed. When Jester is being taken, he goes up there with her and tells her to please let go and that the party will catch her. Eventually, Artagan takes the choice away and kicks Jester (and Fjord) off.

Now for what it's worth, I do think talking through these three approaches is interesting! All three characters are, canonically, people who care about Jester and harbor romantic feelings, and all three are approaching this in real and interesting ways consistent with their characterization. The reason why the discussion was eyerollingly stupid to me is not that it existed; it was that first, it really only centered around those three and either ignored or excused non-romantic faves (Caduceus is very suspicious of Artagan and the judgiest man to ever exist (affectionate), but people arguing in favor of Caleb's laissez-faire attitude who liked Caduceus often gave Cad's judgment a pass while calling Fjord and Beau awful. They also largely ignored Yasha and Veth, who both had imo approaches not dissimilar to Fjord's, though more subtly borne out in that they did not explicitly talk to her about it.)

Second, and more obviously, it was all "what does Jester want" until she decided she wanted to kiss someone they didn't want her to, and then suddenly she's a dumb bitch and her choices are bad, so, you know, was it ever about respecting her choices, or was it a constantly shifting goalpost of what supports the ship. (sidebar: if the goalpost is constantly shifting for your ship? does not bode well for the ship, typically.)

Anyway the two points I'm getting at here are:

I think you can love someone unconditionally in that you care about them as a person regardless of what they do, but that doesn't mean you can't judge them or encourage them to make different choices. It's like a twist on the old saying: if your friend jumped off a bridge, would you follow them? Except it's "if your friend was going to jump off a bridge, and it was their choice, would you stop them?" or "If your friend were going to push a ton of innocent people off a bridge, would you stop them?" There is a difference between "I want you to have agency in your life and be happy" and "I'd rather let you destroy yourself or others than push back even a little on your choices". There's something selfish, in being so scared to lose someone before the fact that you risk losing them far more permanently; and something deeper and more selfless in saying "I love you so much that I'd rather you hate me and live, than that you die or commit atrocities." Like, you should be there for them, but you don't need to validate things you believe are harmful just to support them.

The core principle of literary analysis is basically "any interpretation is valid provided it is evidenced by the text." You can watch through the lenses of shipping goggles and enjoy yourself; but often those are not supported by the text. And that's fine! I know I tend to sound condescending towards this and I will admit it's because I see absolutely no appeal in it, but if you want blorbo 1 and blorbo 2 to kiss and want to watch a show that seems to be driving to that end point regardless of canon, then that is your right and I am not going to stop you. However, no one else is under any obligation to find validity, let alone agree with that interpretation. Indeed, just as it's valid for you to watch with shipping goggles, it's valid for other people to vocally disagree (provided they're not harassing you and are doing so in a place you can choose to block out), particularly if it outright conflicts with canon or is hypocritical in the context of your other interpretations.

#answered #dhwty-writes #cr tag #critical role spoilers

[triptuckers]

Two Homes (part 2/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: nope Pairing:  Nikolai Lantsov x reader  Summary:  after receiving an invitation to a ball in os alta, you have no intention of attending. however your father has other plans Warnings: none Word count:  1.6K A/N: part two of the mini nikolai series! enjoy reading :) PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting @im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha add yourself to my tag lists here 

You wake up to the sound of your father pounding on the door. You don’t even have to get up to check if you’re right, the servants would never knock so loudly. Especially not this early in the morning. Did you forget something? An important date? Was today a birthday or anniversary?

While you’re still wondering if you’ve missed something, your father barges through the door, completely ignoring your privacy. He’s beaming at you, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen him this pleased about anything.

He doesn’t even wait for you to acknowledge him. Instead, he pulls out an envelope similar to the one you received yesterday night. You look at the double eagle seal on the back of it, and force yourself not to roll your eyes.

‘We’re going to Os Alta!’ announces your father. ‘You have been personally invited by King Nikolai to attend a ball!’

‘I’m not going.’ you say as you lay back down. ‘I got a letter yesterday, and I already made your choice.’

‘Nonsense!’ he says. ‘This is too good an opportunity to miss. Now get up, we leave within the hour.’

Just as you open your mind to protest, three servants enter your room, carrying an elaborate new dress. Before you can say anything else, your father has left the room and the servants start to dress you and do your hair. 

Barely half an hour after you were rudely woken up by your father, you are out the door and on your way to Ravka.

You’re silent as you follow your father on his way to the docks. You had tried to convince the servants to let you wear a pair of pants instead of your heavy dress, but they told you your father wanted you to look your best when you left for Ravka. 

So now you’re trying not to trip on your dress as you miserably follow your father. Maybe you could jump off the ship and swim back to Ketterdam. But you fear your heavy dress might sink you to the bottom of the sea before you could make it back. 

As you get closer to the docks, you see two other merchant’s daughters who had received an invitation as well, and are happily chatting away. They seem very happy about it, which only causes you to get more annoyed. To top it all off, they don’t even spare you a glance as they walk past you.

When you get to the docks, you see a small crows has assembled to see you off. News travelled fast in Ketterdam, especially the news of three merchant daughters who were invited by the king of Ravka. You wished the docks were empty. All this attention was not something you wanted. 

You look at the crowd as you board the ship. Among them, you spot a few of the crows. They wink at you and all have smug looks on their faces. Apparently, they thought you changed your mind.

But you shrug and lightly shake your head after pointing at your father, indicating you didn’t have a choice. You wave at them as the ship sails away. Unlike the others who are looking out at sea, you keep looking at Ketterdam until it disappears from the horizon. You barely left, and you couldn’t wait to go back already.

The trip to Ravka takes a couple of days, and when you finally get off the ship, you travel for another few days by carriage before you finally make it to Os Alta. The others are looking out the window of the carriage, pointing at everything they see. 

You couldn’t even bring yourself to get excited or curious. Os Alta looked like any city in your eyes. All you wanted to do, was to go home to Ketterdam. The last thing you needed was to attend a ball. It all seemed so ridiculous. A waste of time and money.

But when you’re dreading something, time seems to go faster, instead of slowing down. The day of the ball creeps closer and way too soon, servants enter the room you’re staying in to help you get dressed.

All day long, you had been thinking of ways you could get out of the ball. You had tried leaving the Palace grounds, but if you wanted to do so, you’d need to be accompanied by a handful of armed guards. You could fight, but not fight off five tall guards with arms. 

Climbing over the fence was not an option either. They were too tall, and you couldn’t find a spot where no one could see you.

Even if you did find a way to sneak out of the grounds, you’d still have to deal with your father. Even though you were far away from Ketterdam, he still followed you around like a shadow. Probably because you had made it very clear you didn’t even want to be there. 

You even tried to pretend to be sick. But your father had called for a healer, who told you that you were in perfect health. You tried to pretend you fell down the stairs and couldn’t possibly dance all night long. But again, your father had called for a healer who confirmed your good health.

So, you had no choice but to attend the ball. No matter how much you dreaded it, there would be no escaping it. 

When you’ve finished dressing, you feel like you might fall over because of the weight of the jewels. Apparently they thought it would be best to look like a shiny insect. Or maybe they just thought the weight of the jewels would prevent you from running away. 

Your hair is put up with more jewels, and they had yet again refused to let you wear pants. Instead, you wear a simple but elegant silk gown. They wanted you to wear heels as well, but you had told them if they wouldn’t let you wear pants, the least they could do is have you pick your own shoes. You were pretty sure if you had to walk on heels all night long, your feet would be numb by the end of the night.

Your father had put on his best suit and is beaming with pride as you make your way to the ball room. He introduces you to anyone he walks into, keeping a firm grip on your hand on his arm, so you couldn’t slip away. Your cheeks already hurt from smiling so much. 

You were told at the beginning of the ball, everyone would be introduced to the king, and the ball would start. Everyone else was excited to meet him, but you couldn’t care less. Your father had done his best at controlling you his entire life. And now, if he had it his way again, he’d marry you off to some royal you had never met.

Sure, you heard the stories. According to them, Nikolai was a war hero, charming, handsome. The boy king loved by his people. You didn’t care for stories. You wanted to go home, back to Ketterdam. Have a drink with the Crows, laugh at their jokes, play cards. 

No matter how much you loathe the palace, your jaw still drops when you enter the massive ball room. It’s elaborately decorated and you have to admit, it’s gorgeous. You didn’t see a lot of this in Ketterdam. Still, you’d rather be in the Crow Club where the floor always seems to be sticky. And you keep looking around you, still trying to find a way out.

You’re waiting for everyone else to arrive and soon, the people around you start to move as everyone starts to introduce themselves to the king. And that’s when you see it. A door to a balcony, slightly open. You take a look at the people around you. 

All of their eyes seem fixed on the king, your father as well. He’s got a weird sort of smile on his face as he looks at the king in the distance. It’s like he totally forgot you were there. It’s now or never. You hang back a little and slip between the people, making for the balcony door.

You open it and quietly slip onto the balcony. The cool air outside feels more welcoming than anything else you’ve encountered on your trip to the palace. It’s not a big balcony, and you’re still visible from inside the ball room.

But the ground is not that far, you notice as you look over the edge of the balcony. You’ve once jumped from a windowsill about the same height as the balcony, when you were on a job with Jesper. You take another look over your shoulder. Your father hadn’t even noticed your absence. 

You take a deep breath and swing your legs over the balcony. Another deep breath, and you take the leap.

You had been right, it wasn’t that far. Still, you land rather clumsily. You’re not used to wearing silk dresses, and curse softly as you try to get up without tripping on it. Once you’re standing, you look up at the balcony, then ahead. In the distance, you see the palace gardens. They look beautiful in the dim light of the setting sun.

Smiling to yourself, you start walking towards them. 

Meanwhile up in the ballroom, your father had reached the king. He’s hopelessly looking around him. All eyes are on him.

‘I swear she was right here, she must have slipped away. She was right here, I’m telling you!’ he says.

Most of the guests are sending him disapproving looks, but king Nikolai is the only one who looks amused.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfics #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

[andypantsx3]

in cinders | 3 | obfuscations

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 24,362 words / 9 chapters

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

The dress in question belonged to Lady Camie Utsushimi and you hoped she wouldn’t get close enough to notice.

It was a deep blue, almost black in certain lights, and though it wasn’t as fine as Ochako’s gown, it looked like the kind of thing that wouldn’t be out of place in a room full of nobility. In the scant hour you had to prepare, you’d done your best to temporarily alter it, quickly pinning the neckline into a different shape and ironing on spare silver ribbon lifted from Mina’s workrooms.

You’d cut a simple silver mask from the same ribbon, hurriedly stitching around the holes for the eyes and tying off the back with a thinner length. It wasn’t your best work, but then you didn’t intend for anyone to get close enough to take note.

While in Mina’s workroom, you also helped yourself to a scrap of pink ribbon and a pearl button, looping the ribbon through the eyehole to create a simple kind of a necklace. It would look too good with Ochako’s dress to pass up. You made a mental note to feed Mina more pastries in apology.

Back in your rooms, you and Ochako quickly washed down with a rough bar of soap of the type that all the palace servants used. It wasn’t as fine or perfumed with flowers like the ladies’ soaps you often caught passing through the corridors to be delivered to their rooms. It smelled vaguely of the olives that had gone into its production, but at least you smelled clean.

Once dressed, you and Ochako stole down the servant’s passages, taking care to avoid anyone carrying trays to the feast. At a quarter past the candlemark, you crept into the hallway that descended into the ballroom from an onlooking balcony. As agreed, Kaminari had left his post open for the spare minutes you needed to get inside.

“It’s not too late to back out,” Ochako whispered as you pressed open the hidden door leading into the back of the hall. The peerage was still being announced at the entry and you wouldn’t be noticed as you came in.

You grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the door, into the brightly-lit grandeur of the ballroom. At once, you were overwhelmed by the sights and smells of the reception. Bright dresses of every color dotted your vision like spots, their wearers combed and rouged to high perfection. Trays littered the tables at the fringes of the room, piled high with cheeses and sweetmeats and the other labors of Rikido’s love. At one table on the far end of the room, you spied the famous soba noodles.

All around you, the nobility swirled like currents on the sea.

“Wow,” Ochako breathed, sounding just as dumbfounded as you felt. “It’s even more than I thought it would be.”

Something pleased curled in your chest, happy you could give this to her. Even if she didn’t bag her prince at the end of the night, it would be worth it to hear the note of wonder in her voice and see her happily spinning among the party’s guests.

Speaking of Prince Shouto, you peered around in search of his tall figure. As the announcements of noble entries tapered off, you spotted your target in the corner of the room. It was hard to recognize all the courtiers in their elaborate masks, but you knew that head of distinctive red and white hair.

“What do you say you take your new dance skills for a spin,” you said, catching Ochako’s wrist again and pulling her through the splendid crowds.

She followed sedately, right up until she caught on to where you were going.

“Y/N, that’s him!” she hissed, “I can’t go over there.”

You pretended you’d conveniently lost your hearing. “What?”

“I said, I’m not going over there,” she whispered again, furiously. “I can’t look him in the face, what if he doesn’t -- oh hello, your highness! Mr. Midoriya!”

You stifled a laugh, dropping into your best approximation of a curtsy.

“Your highness,” you said, shoving Ochako in front of you. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I had hoped you might grace the Lady Uraraka with a dance. She’s quite new to court, you see.”

The man in question stared down at you, dual toned eyes burning into yours. Up close, you could see he was even more handsome than you had thought, his unusual eyes, sharp nose, and the fullness of his mouth only emphasized by the cut of his dark mask. He wore a doublet in a blue color only one shade lighter than your own gown, and the high points of his starched collar curved up towards his sharp jawline.

Over his shoulder, his valet Izuku Midoriya perked up, dressed in a green that matched his riot of curls.

“I’ve not heard of the Uraraka family,” Midoriya said, dropping into a bow. “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance.”

Ochako seemed to blush to the roots of her hair at being addressed. “Oh, we’re um. We’re new, as my companion has said.”

Prince Shouto seemed to remember his manners as well, turning to Ochako. “Welcome, Lady Uraraka.” His heterochromatic eyes flicked over her face and he seemed to search for something to say. “I must compliment you on your choice of jewelry. Your necklace is quite unique and beautiful.”

You smothered a grin, proud of your efforts. She had his attention! Time to make your exit.

You bent your knees in a quick curtsy again. “Well, I must take my leave. I’d promised an acquaintance to find her. Please take good care of my friend.”

With that, you all but dove into the crowd, leaving Ochako at the mercy of the prince and his attendant. If the prince had any conscience at all, his chivalrous upbringing would compel him to ask her for a dance. From there, Ochako's inherent loveliness would do all the heavy lifting.

Once you were sure you were out of their sight, you looped around to one of the refreshments tables, intent on getting your evening’s worth out of Rikido’s cooking. If you had to be here, this would definitely beat the scraps you’d intended to scarf down by yourself. You planned on eating ten plates worth as you watched over Ochako from the sidelines. With the luxurious thickness of Lady Utsushimi’s skirts as cover, you might even be able to sneak twice your usual supply back into your room for later.

You were piling your plate high with barely-disguised glee when an elegant hand was held out in front of you. Your eyes followed an arm up a stylish sleeve and into the face of Camie Utsushimi herself. You froze, serving fork hanging from your fingers.

“L-lady Utsushimi!” you cried, quickly abandoning your plate. You swept into another curtsy so fast you heard your knees creak. “It’s a pleasure!”

Camie considered you with an unreadable look on her delicate features. Up close, her face was so symmetrical and pretty it almost made your eyes burn.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, her features relaxed into something like geniality.

“I’m afraid I don’t know your name, Lady…?”

You panicked. You hadn’t planned on being addressed. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out the first name you could think of.

“Kamiko. I’m, um, from the Ito family.”

Fuck, what were you doing giving her Kamiko’s name?

“Well met, Lady Ito." Lady Utsushimi smiled. "I must tell you that I quite like your dress. I have one just like it! It appears our tastes are quite similar, and I found myself thinking that I must make your acquaintance.”

Internally, you were screaming. Did she recognize it for her own dress? What game was she playing? Was the king’s guard going to march in here any moment and separate your head from your shoulders?

You forced yourself to calm down. “I thank you, my lady. That is a high compliment coming from you.”

She regarded you. “Do you know me? I’m sorry that I cannot say the same - I don’t believe I know of your family.”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh you wouldn’t! We’re, um, from the outlying provinces. We don’t really, uh, get to court much.”

Lady Utsushimi gave you a toothy grin. “Well I’m glad you could make it for Shouto’s birthday. Everyone seems to have turned out.”

You found yourself seizing on the opening she left, desperate to get the subject off of you. “Do you know the prince quite familiarly? You call him by his given name.”

She laughed. “Oh yes, Shouto and I are old friends. I only turned up tonight to give him some company should he need it. He hates these things.”

You turned back to the ballroom, searching out the prince’s mop of hair. You found him easily enough, but were startled to see a distinct lack of Ochako on his arm.

A panic seized you.

“Um, forgive me, Lady Utsushimi. I seem to have forgotten something. I’ll just--um, I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for her response, you plunged back into the fray of courtiers, beelining straight for the prince.

Emerging breathlessly as though from a cold river, you stumbled almost straight into him. Forgetting yourself entirely, you blurted, “Where’s Och--uh, Lady Uraraka?”

He looked at you, seeming startled. “Pardon, Lady…?”

You waved him off, “Oh, don’t worry about me. Just tell me where Lady Uraraka’s gone to and I can be on my merry way.”

He turned to look at you more fully, something curious alighting in his gaze.

“Forgive me, but is it not rude to address your liege lord without the proper respects?”

You froze, blood feeling like it was icing over in your veins. “I--of course, your highness, please forgive me for any offense. I’d only wondered--um, where my friend had gone.”

You hoped desperately that your disguise as a noblewoman stood between you and the gallows.

A smirk played at the corners of Prince Shouto’s mouth.

“I believe she is with Mr. Midoriya at the moment.”

You looked up at him in shock. Was he playing with you?

“Oh, um, thank you. And where might Mr. Midoriya be at this very minute?”

His smirk widened into something dangerously close to a grin. “I do believe I’m owed a name before I will tell you.”

Fuck. Don’t give out Kamiko’s again--

“I don’t have one,” you blurted, then winced.

Prince Shouto stared at you, something a little like disbelief creeping over his features. “You don’t have a name? That’s the first time I’ve heard something like that. Tell me, are you trying to make yourself interesting?”

You flushed. “There is absolutely nothing interesting about me, I can assure you--” nothing that a royal would find interesting anyway, unless they cared about the best kind of soap to lift grease stains from a pan -- “if you could point me in the direction of your valet, I won’t take up any more of your time.”

The prince stepped nearer to you. This close, you could feel the heat coming off of his left side and smell something fresh like mint, underlaid with the tang of saddle oil and leather. His proximity went straight to your head and you took a step back, feeling dizzy.

“I will take from you a dance, then, in place of a name,” he said. His gaze burned into yours like a torch laid to a pyre.

These nobles sure asked for a lot you couldn’t give.

“Um, I’m afraid I’m not much good at dancing.” You groped around for any excuse, taking another slow step back. “I've been told it's as if I'd never learned! Lady Uraraka, though, is a wonderful dancer. I’ll be sure to add you to her dance card when I find her.”

You moved to leave, but a rough hand on your waist stopped you.

“I must insist,” the prince said, “I’ll refresh you, if you are as unpracticed as you say. You would not deny your prince on his birthday, would you?”

You regarded him suspiciously, noting the wry twist at the corner of his mouth. He was being too obnoxious not to be obfuscating. Was there some reason he wasn’t letting you follow Ochako and Midoriya?

“Your toes will pay the price for this,” you intoned, “I assure you I am not being modest.”

Prince Shouto smiled and steered you towards the floor where a dance was already underway. “Perhaps. I will be the judge of that.”

This man had no idea what he was in for.

In the interest of spending as little time in the stocks possible, you did your best to minimize the damage to his toes. You still found yourself trodding on him more often than not though, confused by the many steps and the spritely movements of the couples around you. It became clear very quickly that you had not been lying to him.

Soon enough, the prince leaned down to put his mouth to your ear. “Stand on my boots.”

You pulled back to look at him in befuddlement. “What?” you asked, stupidly.

He tugged you closer. “Step up onto my boots. No one will notice with your long skirts. I will lead you through the dance.”

Your heart pounding in your chest, you did as he asked. This had the effect of bringing you much nearer to him than was proper, and you noticed that even standing on his boots, you tucked neatly under his chin. You hid your face in his strong shoulder, feeling your face turn pink, hoping desperately that he noticed neither your blush nor the messy stitches of your mask.

“So you were not being modest,” he laughed when you’d spun another few rounds, this time with much less difficulty. You could feel it rumble in his chest. “I, too, would guess you had never learned.”

You cringed. “One of many faults, your highness.”

A calloused thumb smoothed your back. “You do not have a name and you do not dance. What do you do with your time?”

Scrub pots. Wash the vegetables that go into your supper. Clean the fireplaces.

You wracked your brain for something suitable to tell him. What did noble women do that men found duller than dirt? What could you give him that he would not ask more about?

“Embroidery, your highness. I am skilled with a needle and thread.”

“With that mask?” he huffed a soft laugh. “Tell me honestly.”

“Well,” you declared, nose feeling hot, “what do you think I do?”

Prince Shouto looked almost delighted by the question, the blue of his left eye shining at you through his mask.

“Let’s see. You write to the Lady Uraraka, seeing as you are such good friends--”

You nodded. Writing, that was something that ladies could do.

“--and you make your own soaps--”

You looked up at him, startled. “What?”

He leaned into your hair, and you could feel him take a deep breath. Your mind felt like it was melting a little. “Your hair, it smells faintly of olives. Most ladies order florals. I’ve never smelled anything like this before.”

Well, it’s not as though he went around sniffing the help every day. All the same, he was too observant.

“Um, what else?” you prompted, trying to reroute him.

His right hand fell from where it clasped yours to gently encircle your wrist. “And you alter your dresses after they’re ordered for you. Do you not find the current fashion satisfactory?”

To your horror, he plucked at the loose silver ribbon you’d ironed on to the hem of your sleeve. It came away easily, clutched in his long fingers.

You opened your mouth to reply -- though what you might have said was a complete mystery to you -- when a blur of pink and green came rushing at you.

Ochako popped up almost between you and the prince, Izuku hot on her heels.

“Your highness,” Izuku sketched a quick bow, “my apologies for interrupting, but your father has need of you.”

Prince Shouto’s hand tightened on your back for a moment, then fell away as he stepped out of your space.

“I see,” he said quietly. He bowed deeply towards you. “I will look for you later, Lady No Name.” And then he was gone, followed closely by his green-haired valet.

Ochako gaped. “Y/N! That was--!”

You hissed, grabbing her hand and rushing off the dance floor. “I know! We have to get out of here before he comes back.”

She looked at you in concern and you held up the sleeve where he had pulled off your ribbon. “Another couple minutes and he’d have figured me out.”

Her eyes grew round with distress. “Do you think he--?”

You shook your head. “Not if we leave now.”

She nodded, and led the way out of the great hall. Once back in the halls of the castle, the two of you ducked towards the doors to the servant’s hall, stealing quietly through the drafty passageways. You kept to the shadows in the kitchen, creeping carefully down the short staircase that led to your shared room.

When you’d finally made it inside, you let out a deep breath, peeling out of Lady Utsushimi’s dress and stowing it carefully under your pallet to return to the laundry rooms at your earliest opportunity.

The two of you changed and collapsed into bed, laughing wildly at the night you’d had. Ochako wouldn’t share more than a word or two on where she’d gone with the prince’s attendant, but you guessed she might have rushed off too embarrassed to dance with the prince and Izuku may have followed to make sure she was well.

Still, it was clear she’d loved being able to go to the ball in her pretty dress, and you smiled, thrilled that you could have given that to her.

Eventually, she stilled, the sound of her breathing becoming heavy. You eventually drifted off as well, feeling the ghost of the prince’s hand at your back and his breath at your temple.

#todoroki shouto #bnha #todoroki shouto x reader #fanfic #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #boku no hero academia

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, eps 1-5 thoughts! opening the new season with episodes like these kinda blew me away. we had multiple serious episodes INCLUDING a two parter!! also, valerie :)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-I don't know what I expected s2 to open with. but danny portal incident in more detail was not it. (also, I hate to break it to you, sam, but danny's parent's bigass ghost hunting rv def chugs more gas than those vehicles, lmao. unless it runs on ectoplasm or something...)

-WHY WAS DESIREE IN THE SEWER? HAVING TEA WITH IT DOWN THERE?? Her making the giant cow come alive is a boss move, we've almost had all of my fav animals as ghosts now <3 I also don't like how sam was expecting danny to just, haunt the place so the cars wouldn't get sold? I KNOWWW I know she's 14 (and I had a very annoying phase like this, I think I mentioned in a previous post, I GET IT) but they're HIS powers, and messing with (1) dealership will not really put a dent in sales overall because they can just move the cars to another sales lot, and it certainly wont change the industry anyway, it's more of a minor annoyance for (1) location. Also, usually people who work at car sales places work on commission, so if they dont make a sale, they don't have money to pay bills, or eat. sam baby if u wanna be an activist you need to like, actually look into these things. with as much money as her parents have, she could be doing a lot..more useful things for causes she cares about? it's frustrating to see someone with resources who doesn't know how to use them. but shes 14 so again. cannot be really upset :/

-IS THIS A PREDATOR VS TERMINATOR VS FREDDY KRUEGER MOVIE BUT THEYRE ALL WOMEN?? you know, sam is so right to be excited about this. /I/ want to see this movie. that rules

-paulina inviting danny and friends to her quinceañera, aw! even if it is just to get phantom to show up :') and there'll be a meteor shower, and we KNOW danny wants to be an astronaut!! there's not a meteor shower every night!! the tickets are non-refundable, but..she's rich? like. gotta agree with danny, they never get invited!! I KNOW it's the principle of keeping promises, but if she was that upset, she should've said something. directly. I hated how she was like, passive aggressive about it through the episode, like you SAID IT WAS FINE, THAT YOU'D GO TO THE PARTY TOO. MOVIES SHOW FOR A FEW WEEKS IN THEATERS. IF YOU HAD A REAL PROBLEM YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. WE'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM BEFORE, SAM. YOUR FRIENDS. ARE NOT. MIND READERS.

-MR. LANCER GOING AFTER THE GHOST WITH THE FIRE EXTINGISHER LMAO

-this outfit is everything . anytime the show does an over the top cutesty pink outfit i WANT IT. it looks like shit I wear JKASDHF I HAVE a bow like that and a pink sweater. I need leg warmers </3

-SAMS GOTTA RE-HALF-KILL HIM??? thats fucked up. but also, he finally got his logo!! it took until s2!!! this episode was lowkey very fucked and I felt like it glossed over a lot. does sam have guilt about like. kinda KILLING HIM?? I know, he also agreed and walked into the portal. but. she made the choice to redo it SO quickly (even if it was because someone had to beat desiree) and danny, during their fight, brought up a lot of stuff sam's done in the past, meaning he was holding onto those memories and resentment was building. (I KEEP SAYING HE LOWKEY NEEDS THERAPY, BUT I THINK MOST EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW KINDA DOES) which...is a red flag? and then they didnt even GO to the party URGH I know she tried to make up for it, but it really felt like Sam fucked up and barely faced any consequences and got everything she wanted in the end. I KNOW it's a kids show obv they aren't going to go too in depth, and she undid the damage, kinda, but...I DUNNO how to articulate it but it rubbed me the wrong way.

-but on a note about desiree, her powers of wishes were STRONG ENOUGH TO ERASE NOT JUST THEIR MEMORIES, BUT DANNY'S POWERS?! fuck, if I was danny I'd be like, trying to make friends with her. I know they always have horrible side effects as most genie-granted wishes do, but...c'mon, I'd at least TRY to be like 'I wish no ghosts would hurt anyone in my town' or 'I wish vlad would lose his ghost powers forever no matter What and also forget about my mom' LIKE. SHIT DESIREE IS SO POWERFUL. rewriting reality powerful, basically!! appreciate her. respect her.

-aww, sam helping tucker pass the nurse's office so he wouldn't see because he's afraid of medical stuff? very sweet. I also don't like medical stuff, I've gotten a lot better at handling it tho. but seeing blood and needles still makes me feel lightheaded x_x

-FOLEY, BY TUCKER FOLEY. I want to make my own perfume, that's so cool. even if his first attempt isn't good, he's pretty consistently shown to have an inventor/entrepreneur streak in the show, so like. I can see him inventing or making something (or several somethings) that make him $$$ when he grows up :) proud of my creative son

-I know the 'creepy abandoned hospital on the edge of town' is a joke and the creepy hospital trope is so Worn Out, but in my town we actually DO have a hospital like that! my dad was born in it, but its not in use and hasn't been for, like, 20 years! it needs to be torn down but I think the city doesn't wanna pay the money. the inside is horrible, spray painted and broken glass and shit everywhere. but there's still like, rusty equipment and fucking DOLLS all over the place. the cops drive by it pretty frequently to make sure no one is like, breaking in. (because of water damage, some of the areas really aren't safe. also, asbestos, but people still go in anyway) but also, some of my town was used in a filming for a stephen king show. So it's lowkey spooky all over. just a fun personal tidbit :) to lead into saying, any hospital abandoned for any period of time is NOT safe to quarantine these kids in JKSAHDKF like I KNOW it's a ghost trying to do this, but NONE of these parents are even like, 'well, why dont we keep them in the regular, working hospital'....YIKES. this hospital looks pretty accurate to the one in town. grungy and spooky.

-fentons are tax evaders confirmed by jack's fear of being audited, lol no one is surprised

-ghost sickness via ghost bugs. horrifying concept. I actually expected it to be a new villain, not dr. spectra again! this is a very elaborate scheme. her new form rules, love the new costume. the way none of the bg kids seem to recognize her as their old school councilor. did we just forget about that completely?

-dash watching romance movies in the fucked up ghost hospital. same.

-'oh please, you're ghosts, do you have any idea what YOU smell like?' no, tucker, what DO ghosts smell like? I genuinely didn't know they would even have a smell, I actually want to know now.

-it feels like a while since we've seen jazz!! i was happy to see her again, even if she was a head in a jar for most the episode. I want another jazz-focused ep!!

-we finally see danny doing space-related stuff!! him and his friends stargazing to open ep 3 of s2. cute :) until, GHOST PIRATES!!!!! ...ghost pirate captain is a small child?? VOICED BY TAYLOR LAUTNER???

-oh, the easy listening is ember's song instrumental slowed. 'vapor drone' THEY VAPORWAVED HER!!! ember in a pirate outfit tho >>>>. and the cruise being called m.bersback JKASDHJK. ember adopting a little pirate brother is also pretty cute. concerning this teen and little kid have such bad opinions of adults, like, who hurt you?? (how did you DIE ALSO?? im always lowkey curious about that. we know desiree died at an old age, but her ghost form is young, probably mid-20s, so I wonder how that sort of thing works...its a more mental thing, isn't it?) but ghost team-ups are always cool to see, even if ember bailed after danny took her guitar. I guess she probably thinks youngblood can handle it (which, he's been owning danny this far in the ep, so...fair)

-tucker got that sponsorship from nasty burger for their radio!!! again, opportunistic money maker king, love to see it!!!

-danny taking control of the kids SO FAST. he makes a pretty great leader. no one is surprised, im pretty sure I said I think he's the most mature of the trio, once again, correct, because he's taken on so much responsibility already. all the teens suiting up in the jumpsuits to go save the adults and taking the ship over with a BLIMP. OKAY LETS GO. this feels like it should be a mid finale or straight up finale.

-...speaking of finales. why is ep 4-5 of s2 combined into a 50 minute episode? I havent even clicked play and im concerned. weird placement, like, this season JUST started and we're getting a two parter? okay...why are the episodes placed like this? why not put this at episode 10 or something, for a mid-season thing?

-this is also a cute dress. possibly my fav dress so far. can her parents give ME cute dresses, I'LL wear them.

-it turns out the castle fright knight was in is called pariah's keep and there's something worse than fright knight in there! lovely! fuck off vlad wtf are you doing <3 your hubris <3 is going to literally get you killed <3 'ring of rage' and 'crown of fire' are great names tho. ...vlad turning into a super polite guy when he was scared of mr. pariah was hilarious. and fright knight doing the same...I mean, it makes sense, he's a knight, he serves a king? happy to see fright knight again either way :) vlad telling him to call him tho, lmfao. you WISH HE WOULD. (I wish hed call me, too. 😔)

-so...jack being genuinely concerned about vlad...maddie really didn't tell him what happened at the cabin, did she. damn. if I was her id immediately come home and be like 'YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS SHITTTT THIS CREEPY GUY--' like, I feel like that stuff you need to tell your partner!!! I know she didnt want Jack to think she was an irresponsible parent putting danny in danger at that time, but STILLLL. maddie spilling boiling tea on him. get his ass. how is jack this oblivious to his wife's discomfort with vlad!! ughhh

-fenton wipe (tm). trademarked toilet paper.

-DANNY AND VALERIE BEING FRIENDS??? :D that was a cute moment. 'hey val <3' and 'if you like him like him, make a move, or someone else will ;)' at sam...damn!! I love her. valerie go for it girl!!! I hate how sam and tucker treat val also, like I GET IT YOURE PROTECTIVE AND DONT TRUST but if anything him befriending valerie will help when she finds out or he tells her like I feel like she'll be more understanding that they think! ALSO I feel like her reason for not liking ghosts is valid, like you haven't really explained the full story to her anyway! she doesn't seem to have any other friends after being booted from the a-listers so im like :( but seeing them kick butt together again was nice <3

-the ghosts all RUNNING FROM PARIAH DARK IS NOT GOOD, I thought he sent them to attack or something, but no. why doesn't someone just tell desiree 'hey i wish pariah dark would die' lol. once again I think she can solve every problem <3 but seeing all the enemies in one place, being civil and hiding together? love it.

-you just know danny's gonna have to clean up vlad's stupid mess. also, jack being willing to put on the ectoskeleton pants to help maddie, as soon as vlad heard it could kill him, he suggested jack do it instead of helping maddie himself? this is why jack got the girl, my man.

-ghost skeletons. how do you end up as a skeleton ghost in your afterlife instead of a humanoid like most the ones we've seen? lmao

-the ghosts just making new homes in various stores. I'd totally be setting up in an expensive clothing store if I was a ghost.

-valerie's dad is possibly the most useful adult so far, with that ghost shield expansion!!! and valerie saving vlad and danny, even tho shes been thru it already, shes still so good!!! this family rules.

-danny: *gently caresses valerie* :)

-*then he immediately TELLS HER DAD ON HER. and his first response is 'are you okay?' :'( such a good dad...

-*me every time fright knight breathes* youre doing SO great sweetie :)

-the fenton suit thing is so silly looking. does anyone take this thing seriously

-ALL THE GHOSTS FIGHTING WITH DANNY <3 AAAAA. and the fact that pariah isn't perma-defeated, but just locked away again. yikes. he'll probably get out again, won't he? it wasn't too clear, but if vlad DID make a pact with fright knight, I am rabid. I will beat vlad to death with the fenton bat (tm). YOU DONT DESERVE A COOL KNIGHT.

-valerie being direct with sam and challenging her? kinda love that, even tho I normally don't like 'catfight' type situations. because sam has been very passive aggressive about it which is annoying. valerie knows wtf she wants and wasn't even embarrassed to tell sam, but she did tell her, giving sam time to make her own move! and sam denied it and got embarrassed/mad! and sam did have a chance when danny was about to go off and fight, and she hesitated and didn't tell him. I feel like she's hesitating because they're friends and it might make it weird between the trio (poor tucker would be third-wheeling) but if u snooze u lose, u gotta GO after what u WANT girl. smh this is a No Tsundere Zone. 😤

#sanchoyorambles #dp thoughts #danny phantom

[the-queer-dungeoneer]

Not Alone (Crowley x Fem! Reader) - Ch. 4/?

Previous / Next

Characters: Reader, Crowley, Aziraphale, Gabriel and likely more once we get into the thick of it.

Relationships: Crowley x Reader, Aziraphale x Reader, Aziraphale x Crowley

POV: First-person

Warnings: Family estrangement, otherwise n/a

Tags: @curse-brekker​, @oopstheregoesmysoul13​, @ellaorelizabeth​

*gif is not mine and neither are any of the characters or source material!

Y/N = your name

Y/N/N = your nickname

Y/L/N = your last name

H/C = Hair color

E/C = Eye color

F/C = Favorite color

A/N: YOOOOOO!! I am so sorry its been so long since an update. I think the pandemic kicked everyone in the face. But here is chapter four. It may be a bit short, but I’m getting back into the swing of things. I promise I WILL finish this fic dammit.

Lots of love! - TQD

Two Weeks Later

It had not surpassed my notice that all our conversations up to this point had been solely focused on me. Aziraphale choicely avoided talking about his family or friends. Honestly, I was the only friend of his I knew, and seeing as I visited him several times a week it was surprising that I had never encountered anyone else that seemed remotely acquainted with him – save for the violet-eyed creep that had taken far too many liberties with my left hand. I had resolved to ask him about it today. After the deep dive we took into my memories a few weeks ago, I found it only fair.

And it was with this determination I strode into the shop. I had brought two scrumptious looking cinnamon rolls from a bakery down the block as a treat. I had a lot of work to do on my case study and he had been called into meetings uptown more than usual, so it seemed necessary.  I was greeted by a small sigh and a shout from the back: “We’re closed for the day. Business will resume tomorrow. Please see yourself out!” With a giggle I retorted, “Alright, but then I would have to eat these cinnamon rolls all by myself!” Then there was a sound of recognition, the creak of a ladder, a crash, and a thud.

“Aziraphale! Are you alright?!” I shouted as I tossed the pastries and my bag on the counter, running towards the clatter.

“Oh dear, Y/N, I’m just fine. You surprised me is all. I didn’t realize the hour. Perhaps the mention of cinnamon rolls got me too excited to look down before attempting my descent.” He spoke with a small smile and a huff as I helped him out of a dusty heap of books. “Oh, blast it!” He sighed, analyzing his mess, “I had these all laid out in order and now I’ve gone and mixed them up. It’ll take me a dog’s age to get them shelved properly.”

“Well, maybe I could help, if you would accept assistance from the girl who led to your downfall in the first place.” I smiled, picking up a few volumes of Dostoyevsky that appeared to be first additions, but that was impossible.

“Oh love, I would never refuse anything from you,” He smiled, brushing dust from his waistcoat. “How about we clear up this mess, and then I’ll put on some tea and we can enjoy those cinnamon rolls?”

“I couldn’t have planned a better afternoon if I tried!”

 And it was a wonderful afternoon. With his direction, I shelved the books where he liked. His system didn’t have a rhyme or reason I could make sense of, but if he was happy, I was happy. The work went must faster with one person on the ladder and one handing off the books. After that, we settled down on the couch in the back room with hot tea and the pastries. I was sure they’d be stale, but miraculously they still tasted oven-fresh. It was curious, but Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice.

We did our usual routine of bouncing between idle chatter and reading. Occasionally a remark on the text would spiral into a tangent on philosophy and the greater good. Finally, when my homework was finished, I got up the courage to say what I’d been thinking.

“Tell me about your family, Aziraphale.”

“Oh, goodness, why ever do you want to know about all that?” He asked. Seeming genuinely alarmed by the question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to poke a sore subject. It’s just… I have told you so much about myself and my childhood, and I feel like I barely know anything about you. The only person I know of any connection to you is Gabriel, and I hope to God he’s not the only other person in your life.”

He snickered at this and let out a resigned breath. “You’re right, Y/N, it isn’t fair of me to know every detail about your life and not share anything about myself. I find myself, um – estranged from the majority of my family. They don’t particularly agree with the way I live my life,” he began. He didn’t elaborate, but you took it to mean they were ultra-conservative, or something of the like. What other reason could they not want to be around Aziraphale? He was the most delightful person you’d ever met. “And God is good, Gabriel isn’t my only point of contact. I wouldn’t say I have many friends to speak of. I am more of a solitary observer myself. Mostly books and cocoa. But I do have one person I’d say is both my only family and best friend. His name is Crowley.”

“Crowley, huh? Tell me about him!” I was genuinely interested. Who could be the one being to capture this much of Aziraphale’s attention. And tell me he did. He talked about how long they’d known each other. The spats they’d been in. Their stark differences in music and fashion taste. He told me about Crowley’s unsavory colleagues. Occasionally he referred to him as a devil or wiley serpent. Things that would be reviling to call someone if it hadn’t been said with so much fondness. I could tell that, though they seemed polar opposites, Aziraphale cared for Crowley very much.

“He sounds wonderful Aziraphale, I hope I get to meet him some day. Him being your best friend, and all, I’m sure he’s fantastic.”

Aziraphale’s eyes glinted with recognition “Actually, I amend my previous statement. I would say he is one of my best friends.” His smile dimpled his cheeks as he reached out to squeeze my hand. I took his warmly, happy to know he felt the same way I did. “He’s a bit rough around the edges, and work keeps him away most of the time, but maybe someday you two can meet.”

“I look forward to it,” I yawned, checking the clock. I t was nearly midnight and I had class the next morning. “Alright, my darling, I need to head home. Penelope is likely upset that I haven’t turned down the bed for her.”

He chuckled and rose to his feet following me to the door and holding out his arm, “Well then we best start walking, hm?” I took his arm again, ever the gentleman, he rarely let me walk home alone if it was dark out. This was one of the many things I loved about him.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens crowley #good omens fic #good omens aziraphale #good omens x reader #crowley x reader #aziraphale x reader #crowley x aziraphale #Ineffable Husbands

[freddiesaysalright]

Tale as Old as Time - Chapter 2

Rami!Prince Adam x Reader

Summary: A prince cursed. A young woman aching for adventure. The classic tale of seeing beauty within. 

Word Count: 5.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @the-moving-finger-writes​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @rose-writes-prose​, @queenlover05​, @26-7-49​, @drowsebaby​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @xviiarez​, @rogerina-owns-me​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: The second part of our Beauty and the Beast AU! The adventure really begins in this chapter :)

Warning(s): None!

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1

Chapter 2 here we go!!!

The next day, you were making your breakfast after your morning trip into town. More toast and preserves. You found yourself missing your father, but at the same time grateful for his absence. It was really your last hope against marrying Victor. But your father was a constant comfort to you. You always missed him - even if he did snore. 

You began cleaning up from your meal when you looked across the counter and saw it - your father’s medicine. He had left it behind. Worry shot through your heart. Could he make it a whole day without it? You had never tried since Lyle prescribed it. You could always ride into the city yourself, but you weren’t sure of the way, and it was dangerous to go alone as a young woman. You briefly considered asking Victor to escort you, but you didn’t want to put your father in the situation of having to explain why he wasn’t thrilled with your decision. 

With a sigh, you carefully wrapped up the medicine and headed out to the stable to fetch your horse. You would go alone. It may be dangerous, but it was not a terribly long journey, especially since you weren’t hauling a well-built wood chopper behind you. 

You placed the medicine and some bread into your saddlebag. Your horse, a sweet palomino named Dotty, nipped your shoulder affectionately after you put the bit in her mouth. You giggled as you led her out into the open. Just as you mounted, you heard another horse clopping up to you. You turned your head and held back a groan. It was Victor. 

“Y/N!” he said. “I must have missed you in town this morning.”

“I wasn’t long, my father is in the city today,” you told him.

“How did he take our big announcement?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. 

“Quite well,” you lied. “He said he shall miss me terribly, but if it’s what I want, then…”

“Good, good,” he said. “Well, I’ll make a formal announcement today and -”

“No, don’t!” you cried hastily. 

He shot you a quizzical look and you cleared your throat. 

“It’s just...I don’t want everyone to know just yet,” you said. “Let’s make the announcement after we set a date.”

“My darling, you are a tease!” he chuckled. ‘Very well, we’ll do as you please for now. Just don’t go into our marriage thinking you can get your way all the time.”

“Of course not,” you said, holding back on your sarcasm. “But the wedding is about the bride. The marriage is about the groom.”

“That’s a good girl,” he said. “Where are you off to?”

“Oh, I’m bringing my father his medicine,” you said. “He left it by mistake.”

“Allow me to escort you,” he said. “It’s dangerous in those woods.”

“I’ll be alright, Victor, really,” you insisted. “Don’t fret about me. Besides, the rest of the village will miss you.”

“I do have quite a few appointments today that I really shouldn’t reschedule,” he said, touching his chin with his forefinger. “Alright, Y/N. Shall I come again tomorrow to see your father?”

“If it pleases you,” you said. “He won’t be back until the evening, though.”

“I’ll be here then,” he told you. “Good luck!”

“Thank you,” you replied. 

He galloped away and you released a relieved sigh. You weren’t sure how long you could dodge him if you had to be in town, so you were grateful for the errand. With a nervous gulp, you headed into the woods.

For a while, you thought it would be easy, since the wagon had made tracks in the soft mud from the storm. But eventually, things got messy. Your father had evidently turned around several times, which confused you. You approached a charred tree and found Phillipe’s scattered hoof prints.

“What happened here?” you wondered.

You dismounted to more closely examine the ground. There were no tracks leading in the direction of the city. It was north of  the village. It appeared the next set of tracks went east. Remounting Dotty, you urged her on. 

The trees thickened along your track. The ground squished beneath Dotty’s hooves since the sun could not dry it out. You saw splinters of wood scattered along the trail from where the wagon must have barrelled over the roots or struck the trunks of the trees. Worry clawed at you some more. You weren’t sure what you would find at the end.

As the trees thinned out, some hope was restored to you. The sun was brightly shining on what appeared to be a clearing. Only, when you got closer, you realized it wasn’t. You had come upon the entrance to a massive garden.

It was difficult to see over the wall, but through the gate, you could clearly see roses. They were beautiful, but you couldn’t focus on them. They only reminded you more of your father. You heard a soft whinny to your left and whipped around.

“Phillipe!” you cried.

He stood back in the brush, shivering and still damp from the rain. You scrambled off of Dotty and hurried to him. He shrunk back, but you placed a comforting hand on his neck.

“Phillipe, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I’m here now. Where’s Papa?”

You looked around for any sign of your father. Phillipe still had the wagon hitched on, but the seat was empty. There didn’t appear to be anyone lying on the ground around you either. You looked back toward the garden. Had your father maybe gone in to try and fetch you a rose?

You tied Dotty to a branch near Phillipe to ease him further. Then you went to the gate. With shaking hands, you reached toward it. The iron was cold from the wind of the storm and the chilly morning air. You shivered. Then, you gave it a push.

To your surprise, it opened. There was a loud, rusty squeak as it moved, but you couldn’t worry about that. You saw - down the path - your father’s hat.

You gasped and darted over to retrieve it. A million questions went through your mind. Especially after you spotted his pocket knife and a cut rose just a few feet away.

Gathering the rose and knife along with the hat, you forced yourself forward into the garden. The pathway was clear and free of debris, so someone was clearly maintaining it. If it was a garden, then it had to be attached to a building of some kind. You prayed it was a hospital and that someone was caring for your father.

The path wound through the hedges. With each step, your nerves only grew. You had to find your father, but what happened once you did? Would you be able to find your way back out of here? What was this place? Where were the people?

A building began to take shape in the distance. It hit you all at once where you had to be. The old palace. It made your stomach drop to think about. The palace was rumored to be haunted, and you didn’t know if you believed in ghosts, but any abandoned building with such a mystery around it gave you the creeps. Could your father really be in there? If so, why?

At the end of the garden was a courtyard. The courtyard had a magnificent water fountain in the center, but it wasn’t running. On the other side of the fountain was a set of large, oak front doors. Elaborate gold knockers were on each side, shaped like lion’s heads.

You glanced around once more, hoping beyond hope that your father was somewhere outside and you could hurry away from here together. There was still nothing.

With a deep breath, you knocked. The door fell slightly ajar, making you jump. You gathered yourself and pushed further, poking your head in first. The entryway was magnificent - the ceilings were as high as the clouds, a wide staircase led up and away, with plush red carpet up the middle. Everything was finely decorated. Only, it was all faded. Like an antique shop. A thin layer of dust sat atop each item like a sheet. It felt abandoned, which was a stark contrast to the garden.

“H-hello?” you called out shakily. “Hello, is anyone there? Papa?”

Your voice echoed in the chamber-like hall. Hesitantly, you stepped over the threshold. No one seemed to be answering your call, so you went further in.

“Hello?”

Still nothing but your own voice coming back to you. A light came on in the corridor to your right, so you hastened to follow it. 

“Papa!” you cried desperately.

When you looked down the hall, there was still no one there. Confused and even more frightened, you continued on.

“Please, is anyone there?” you tried again. “I’m looking for my father!”

A whisper came from further down the hall. You walked more. At the end of the hall, there was a staircase. One led up, and the other led down. Making a split second choice, you headed down. There were more lights on that way. As you made your way down, you gulped.

About halfway down the winding staircase, you got nervous again. The silence was overwhelming. And although you couldn’t see anyone, you felt like you were being watched. You could sense curious eyes on you and it made your skin crawl.

“Papa?” you called out one last time.

“Y/N?” a weak voice croaked back at you.

Then you heard a violent coughing fit.

“Papa!” you shouted, and flew down the rest of the flight of stairs.

You came into a dungeon. You father was behind bars on a cold stone floor. His face was pale, but his eyes were watered with the effort of his coughing. You saw blood seep between his fingers covering his mouth.

“Papa!” you gasped, kneeling in front of him. “What’s happened? Who did this to you?”

“Y/N, get out of here!” he returned wildly. “You’ve got to go now before he finds you!”

“Before who finds me?!” you wondered, hurt and confused.

At that moment, the torch above you went out. You gasped again and turned around, searching the darkness for whatever had moved. You saw a large shadow in the corner.

“Who are you?” you demanded, sounding far braver than you felt. “Let us out of here!”

A low growl made the hair on your neck stand up.

“I’m the master of this castle,” a gravelly voice replied. “That man committed a punishable offense.”

“What offense was that?” you insisted.

“He cut my roses,” the voice said.

“So you locked him in prison?!” you challenged. “That punishment doesn’t exactly fit the crime!”

“What do you know?!” the voice shot back. “This is my castle, and I’ll run it however I please!”

“Whoever you are, I beg you to let my father go,” you said, softer now. “He’s sick, and he’ll die in here if he doesn’t get help.”

“That’s not my concern,” he snapped.

Tears welled up in your eyes. Had you come this far only to have to say goodbye?

“Please,” you said. “Don’t you know mercy? Compassion?”

“The world has shown me no mercy or compassion, why should I?” he barked.

“There must be something I can do….” you trailed off.

An idea came to you, though you hated to do it. It meant the end of your life as you knew it.

“Let me take his place,” you said.

“No, Y/N, you can’t!” your father burst out. “I won’t let you!”

You shushed him. The creature in the corner turned to look at you. You could just barely see his eyes from the glow of the torch down the hall.

“You would surrender yourself for him?” he questioned.

“Well - of course I would, he’s my father,” you said simply. “I can’t let him waste away in here.”

“I won’t let you, Y/N!” your father repeated. “I’m an old man, I’ve had my chance at life. You deserve to be free to live yours!”

“Papa, don’t you understand?” you replied. “I’m a prisoner no matter what. At least this way...I’m not his wife.”

“Y/N, don’t!” Paul pleaded. 

“I’m offering you myself,” you said to the creature. “Just let him go.”

“Done,” he said harshly, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping you hadn’t made a mistake.

The creature moved past you to unlock the cell door. You finally saw it close up. He was a monstrous looking beast, with thick, dark fur, sharp fangs, and horns. He walked up on two legs, but hunched over so much, his front paws could have touched the ground. You clapped a hand over your mouth to hold back another gasp.

He grabbed your father by the collar and yanked him from the cell before slamming it shut again. He dropped Paul in front of you.

“I’ll give you a moment,” he said.

You blinked, surprised at the sympathy he showed before turning his back. Then you turned your attention to your father.

“Y/N, please,” he begged. “Don’t do this. You’re my child, I’m supposed to sacrifice for you. We’ll figure something out, but you can’t -”

You put a finger to his lips to silence him. “It’s done, Papa. I could never live with myself if I left you here.”

“And how am I to live with myself leaving you behind?” he argued. 

“This is my choice,” you reminded him gently. 

His lip trembled and he pulled you into a hug. You sagged against him, etching the feeling of his embrace into your memory, for you would never feel it again.

“I’ll come back for you with help from the village,” your father whispered. “You aren’t stuck here.”

You returned with only the slightest of nods. With a sniffle, you pulled away.

“I love you, Papa,” you said.

“I love you more, my darling girl,” he replied.

With that, he allowed himself to be led away by the beast. He disappeared. You gave yourself a moment to cry. You were alone and scared, and you had no idea the nature of this beast. You thought he must be cruel to lock up an old man for a flower. But then, he allowed you to say goodbye. And those eyes...you had never seen such anguished eyes.

You wiped your eyes and got to your feet, waiting for the beast to return and put you in a cell. He was taking a long while.

“Prince Rami,” said Mrs. Carson gently as she followed him back from the front door. “I think you ought to give the girl a proper bedroom.”

“I agree,” said the butler, Thomas. “What if she’s the one to break the spell? She can’t fall in love with you if she feels like a prisoner.”

“She is a prisoner,” Rami argued. “Besides, did you see her? A girl that beautiful could never...don’t trust a hope.”

The pair looked at their master a moment while he released a sigh.

“Show her to her room and let her know when dinner is ready,” he said heavily. “I...I can’t face her right now.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mrs. Carson, and she headed back to where you were waiting.

You heard footsteps coming back down the hall, but the shape that appeared before you was not the beast. It was a kind looking old woman. She smiled at you and held up a lantern so you could see better.

“Alright, love,” she said. “Let’s show you to your room.”

“My room?” you questioned. “I thought I was a prisoner.”

“The master’s had a change of heart,” she told you. “Since you’ll be here permanently, he wants you to be comfortable.”

That puzzled you, but you didn’t dare question it further. So, you followed her up the stairs and down through the main hall again. Then you went up more stairs, heading for a tower on the east side of the castle.

“I’m Mrs. Carson, by the way,” the woman said. “I’m the housekeeper. I’ll be your first resource for whatever you need.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said. “Can I ask you something, Mrs. Carson?”

“Certainly, dear.”

“Is this the place where the king and queen were killed all those years ago?” you asked.

She stopped and turned to face you.

“Sadly, it is,” she answered, looking grim.

She kept walking. 

“Did you work for them?” you wondered.

“I did,” she said.

“How did they die?” you pressed. 

“I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t see it happen. There was an attack, but I don’t know by whom or for what reasons.”

“Do you know what became of the prince?” 

She halted again, but this time, did not look at you.

“I do,” she said.

Your eyes widened. “W...what happened?”

“I’m not really at liberty to say, dear,” she said, and you thought you heard her voice break over her words. “It’s too horrible.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I don’t mean to pry, but -”

“I understand,” she cut across you. “But I can’t betray them. You’ll more than likely learn what happened for yourself, but whatever the master wants you to know must come from him.”

“How did he get control of this place?” you wondered. “If the royal family is gone?”

“It’s his home,” she said simply. “I can’t say any more than that.”

It was a cryptic and strange answer, but you decided to drop the issue and keep walking. Mrs. Carson led you up to a beautiful bedroom with a regal looking bed and fine mahogany furniture. It still felt as suffocating as the cell in the dungeon.

“I’ll send Anna up in a few minutes to prepare you for dinner,” Mrs. Carson said. “She’ll attend to your daily needs such as clothing and hair.”

“I don’t need -”

“It’s best not to argue,” she interrupted sweetly. “Besides, she hasn’t had a beautiful lady to dress in years!”

You chuckled in spite of yourself. Mrs. Carson closed the door behind her. You expected to hear her turn the lock, but she didn’t. That was a relief. But it hit you suddenly how much you were losing by remaining here. Every dream you’d ever had of traveling, all your hopes of falling in love and marrying, each day you could spend reading as your father worked beside you. All of it was gone.

You collapsed on the bed and let yourself cry some more. You didn’t regret your decision. But you were mourning the loss of a life you had loved. And had taken for granted.

You grieved for about an hour, and when you had collected yourself again, there was a soft knock on the door. Even so, it made you jump.

“Who is it?” you asked.

“It’s Anna,” the voice on the other side replied. “May I come in?”

“Of course,” you allowed.

The knob turned and in walked a middle aged blonde woman with a wide, comforting smile. Draped over her arms were three dresses.

“I thought you could choose what you’d like to wear for dinner,” she said. “These are some of the queen’s old things, so they may not fit exactly right, but I’ll alter them for you as needed.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but I’d rather not,” you said. “I don’t want to have dinner with your master. I need some time.”

Her expression softened as she looked at you. “I completely understand. I’ll tell Mrs. Carson.”

“Thank you, Anna,” you said.

“Of course,” she replied.

She retreated from the room. When she closed the door she heaved a sigh.

Rami was pacing in the dining room. Anxiety made him feel impatient and irritable. He was already feeling guilty about his actions, something he had not experienced in many years. But something about you made him feel...shame. 

“You must settle down, sir,” Thomas said. “I’m sure once the shock has worn off, things will go alright.”

Rami huffed. “Easy for you to say.”

The door cracked open. Rami stiffened and faced it. Only, you did not emerge. It was Mrs. Carson.

“She’s not coming to dinner,” she said. “She said she needs more time.”

Rami sighed. He supposed he should have expected as much. 

“I understand,” he said. “Have her food sent to her room.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied. “May I suggest something for tomorrow?”

“Sure,” he said.

“Invite her in person,” she told him. “The only way she can get to know you is by presenting yourself to her.”

Rami opened his mouth to tell her it wasn’t even worth it, but he knew she would still encourage him to try. She had never given up hope that the curse could be broken, even if he had.

Even though it was fairly early, you decided to change and get ready for bed. You didn’t wait for Anna since you were used to changing on your own anyway. Just as you stepped out of your dress, there was a knock on the door. It started off loud, then a hesitation, and then a softer knock. Brow furrowed, you went to the door. On the floor sat a tray of food. It was a whole spread of cheese, bread, salad, soup, an entree, and even wine. Surprised, you looked and saw a furry paw disappear around the corner. You heard his steps padding away. The beast had brought you dinner himself.

With your spirit lifted, you took the tray into your room.

In the morning, you woke early. You almost forgot the events of the previous evening until your bleary eyes took in your surroundings. The large bedroom, the down pillows beneath your head, and the satin sheets covering you. You were in the palace. And the prisoner of the beast who ruled it.

You sat up. The tray for your dinner had already been removed and replaced with some breakfast. Steam rose from the cup of hot tea. 

“Well, this is the most luxurious treatment for a prisoner,” you said to yourself.

You ate in bed and then got up, wondering what on earth you were going to do to occupy yourself. There had to be plenty to discover in a castle like this, but you had so much time to do it. Part of you was also tempted to stay in bed and mope.

“Y/N,” said Anna’s voice as she knocked on the door. “It’s Anna. Would you like some help getting dressed?”

“Come in,” you said, unsure how to answer her. “You don’t have to dress me, you know.”

“I don’t mind, it’s my job,” she replied. “Besides, I think the queen’s old things might not be familiar to you.”

“I have my own dress,” you argued.

“I’ve washed it,” she returned simply. “It’s still drying.”

“Oh,” you said. “That was kind of you.”

She smiled. “Here. Let’s get you into something for the day.”

She held up a gown that was much nicer than anything you had ever owned. Feeling awkward, and a little guilty, you let her help you into it. It fit surprisingly well, but you weren’t sure it suited you. You almost felt like you were playing dress up. Then you looked in the mirror.

The dress was a simple, day dress, but still beautiful. You looked like a grown woman in it, a feeling you were still adjusting to. The way it hugged your curves and accentuated your body was incredibly flattering. You had never felt more like royalty.

“It’s too much,” you said.

“Nonsense, it’s a day dress,” Anna reminded you.

“Still,” you said. “It feels…”

You paused, words failing you. 

“You look lovely,” she said. 

“Are all prisoners treated this nicely?” you wondered.

She chuckled. “The master would rather you not think of yourself as a prisoner. You’re his guest now.”

“A guest is free to leave,” you retorted.

“Not before they’ve properly met their host,” she replied.

You sighed. Shortly after, Mrs. Carson arrived to give you a tour of the castle. She showed you everywhere you were allowed to go from your room to the kitchen, to the main hall, to the garden. The garden was your favorite so far, as it was much less intimidating in the sunlight. Across the courtyard, you watched the beast come into view. 

To your great shock, he was talking to the plants. You couldn’t hear what he was saying, but it was such a tender thing to do, it nearly knocked you off your feet. How could a creature who would lock someone up over a rose also be so nurturing? Those roses must mean something more to him.

You didn’t get the chance to figure it out before Mrs. Carson led you away from the gardens and into the vegetable patches. There was a slim, young woman on her knees in the dirt there, puttering around among the growth.

“Daisy,” said Mrs. Carson. “Good morning to you.”

Daisy looked up. She had a sweet, round face with mousy brown hair falling around it. 

“Morning, Mrs. Carson,” she said. “Just gathering some things for dinner.”

“I’m glad,” Mrs. Carson replied. “Daisy, this is Y/N. She’s come to live at the palace now.”

Daisy got to her feet, brushing her hands on her apron before offering you one to shake.

“Nice to meet you, m’lady,” she said brightly.

“Just Y/N is fine,” you assured her, shaking her hand.

“Y/N, Daisy is our cook,” Mrs. Carson said. “She came here just a few years ago.”

You started to ask a question about that, but Mrs. Carson just moved on. You followed her back inside. As you headed to the dining room for lunch, you passed a set of large double doors. There was a padlock on them.

“What’s that?” you asked.

“The library,” Mrs. Carson said. 

“Why is it all locked up?” you wondered.

“The master used to spend a lot of time in there,” she told you. “But after everything that happened to him, he closed it off. It reminded him too much of painful memories.”

“What painful memories?” you pressed.

“They aren’t mine to share, I’m afraid,” she said. 

You huffed in annoyance. There was so much going on around here and none of it could be explained. Especially the so-called master. How had a beast inherited this castle?

On your way down the hall, one painting in particular made you stop. It was clearly of the royal family - the king, the queen, and their son between them. The king and queen looked regal and stoic, but the prince had a smile on his face. And his eyes. His eyes were so alluring and bright, even depicted on a canvas. It felt like you might have seen them before, but you couldn’t place it.

A sudden, horrifying thought came to you. Was the beast the cause of the deaths of the royal family? Had he killed the king and queen? If so, where was the prince? Was he also a prisoner here? Locked away somewhere no one would ever find him? Was that why the beast had so easily gained control of the castle and the servants?

You stopped.

“Mrs. Carson, would it be alright if I explored on my own for a while?” you asked. “I’m not very hungry.”

“Sure,” she said. “But you are not to enter the west wing. That’s the master’s private chambers.”

“Okay,” you agreed. 

She gave you a nod and you jogged away, heading straight for your room. You were becoming overwhelmed and scared again. When you got to your tower, you shut the door and sank to the floor, feeling a lump in your throat. Only now, you were no longer grieving for just yourself. You also wept for that little family torn apart in a single day.

You remained in your room until the evening. You spent most of the afternoon sulking and gazing out your window. Then Anna came to help you change into a dinner dress. You weren’t sure you wanted to go to dinner, but you feared refusing the beast anymore.

“Anna,” you said.

“Yes?” 

“What is the master’s name?”

She stopped tying the laces of the dress and looked at you.

“He’s very private, Y/N…” she began.

“Well, if I’m his guest, I ought to know the host’s name,” you said. “I can’t just call him ‘the master’ all the time. It sounds so odd, especially since I’m not his servant.”

“Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asked. “He might tell you.”

“I don’t think he would,” you said. “Why can’t you tell me?”

“To be honest, he’s forbidden everyone except Mrs. Carson from saying it,” she admitted. “He wasn’t always like this, you know. He doesn’t like to be reminded of the past.”

She finished with the dress, and you examined yourself in the mirror, once again becoming startled by your elegant appearance.

“Are you coming to dinner?” she asked.

“I haven’t decided,” you said. 

“Very well,” she conceded. “Just ring for me when you’re ready for bed.”

You waited a few minutes after she left. You sat at the vanity and sighed, weighing your options. You could go to dinner, but it seemed reckless. This beast was cruel - he’d arrested your father, taken you prisoner, and he might have been responsible for the tragedy of the royal family. On the other hand, if you refused, you might enrage him. He could bring you your dinner and allow you to wear the queen’s dresses, but that did not make him kind.

A cautious knock brought you out of your trance. 

“Y/N.”

It was the growly voice of the beast.

You swallowed and went to answer the door. You had not been near him since the previous night, and you were struck once again with the sheer size of him. He towered over you like a mountain.

“I have come to personally request that you join me for dinner,” he said nervously.

“Um…”

You looked up and met his eyes. Those poor, sad eyes.

“On one condition,” you said.

His brow furrowed. “What condition is that?” 

“Tell me your name,” you said. 

He stiffened. “Why?”

“Because you know mine,” you said. “It’s only fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” he retorted. 

“Well, if you’re going to be stubborn about it,” you said, and started to close the door.

He slammed his paw against the wood, stopping you, but making you jump.

“Sorry,” he said, retracting the paw. “I...I wish to continue negotiations.”

“I’ve named my terms,” you reminded him, raising a challenging eyebrow.

He shot an annoyed glance over his shoulder and let out a long breath.

“Rami,” he said. “My name is Rami.”

You smirked and extended your hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rami,” you said.

With a bashful smile, he shook your hand. Then you placed it in the crook of his arm and allowed him to escort you to the dining room.

#rami malek #rami malek imagine #rami malek x reader #rami malek x you #rami malek fluff #BoRhap #BoRhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast imagine #borhap cast x you #borhap boys #borhap boys x reader #borhap boys imagine #borhap boys x you #freddie mercury #freddie mercury x you #freddie mercury imagine #freddie mercury x reader #Queen #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #tale as old as time series

[kingsuckjin]

The Enigma of Bunny | Pt.4

Pairing: Jungkook, Taehyung, Yoongi, Jin x reader ft. Namjoon and Hobi

Genre: angst, fluff, mystery (later: horror) smut (soon) yandere

Warnings: (I’m so sorry Tae stans) hints and talk of noncon/dubcon, hints of sex, self hatred.

Synopsis: You find a very sick young man in an alley and out of the bottomless barrel of kindness that is your heart, you decide take him home. Only then do you realize this stranger doesn’t speak, but that’s not the only strange thing about him by far. Who is he? Where did he come from? What happened to him? And why can’t he remember anything or even speak?

Words: 3.6k+

Tag list: If you want to be added to the tag list just let me know @rikkafunthepureone @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sam-moss @minyoongi-infiresme @appreciatethefoolishness @sugajinny @loserjeonjk @savanna-1 @bulletproof-points

prev // next

——

“I need you to come in NOW. We need to talk about your obvious slacking.”

That message from your boss terrified you. It was true you were slacking at getting work done but you were busy helping Jungkook. Of course your dictator boss, Kim Taehyung, wouldn’t understand that, he only cared about himself, his company, and which Gucci suit he would wear that day. You were surprised he was letting you work from home at all but you did work more diligently at home and more hours of course and that made him money.

You had no idea what to do with Jungkook as you threw on your office best, a pencil skirt, heels and a nice dress shirt.

You dialed Yoongi’s number as you got dressed and you thanked god as he answered but he sounded tired. you spewed apologies and explained that you needed his help again asking him to come over and watch Jungkook for you. You knew if you had to leave him it would have to be here at the house with someone he liked and that’s what you told him.

Jungkook looked at your attire and his eyes followed you across the room  as you walked over to him and sat down next to him.

“Jungkook, I have to leave for a bit but-”

“Leave?!” He interrupted suddenly panicked.

“Yes, but not too long. Yoongi will be here with you.”

“I don’t come?” He asked.

“I’m sorry, you can’t.”

“Why?” It was his newest favorite word that you had heard countless times over the past few days.

“Because I have to go to work today.”

“Work? Why?”

“My boss probably wants to yell at me”

“Yell?! Yell at noona?! No! Did noona do bad?” He was now also concerned along with flipping his shit over you needing to leave.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“No! No yell at noona!” You had noticed when he got upset his speech got worse.

“Its okay.” You laid your hand on his larger, warm one for reassurance and it seemed to do the trick in calming him a few notches. “It won’t be too bad. I’ll be back before you know it. Be brave for me and be good while I’m gone, okay? Don’t get upset. I’ll be back.”

He had a pained look on his face but he nodded apprehensively but in understanding just as there was a knock at the door.

You threw open the door and Yoongi blinked at you before glancing at what you were wearing.

“Shit.” You swear he said.

“What?” You weren’t sure why he had said that, but you were sure he had.

“I- uh- meant to bring snacks… for Jungkook.” He said suddenly not wanting to look directly at you, choosing to look past you to Jungkook instead.

“Oh its fine, we have plenty, he eats so much so I’ve stocked up.” You said as you let him in.

“I don’t know when I’ll be back but-”

“Its fine.” He shrugged.

“Jungkook. I’ll be back. Please be good. If you are we can get you more art supplies, alright.” You promised him a reward in hopes he would keep a level head at least for that.

“Okay Noona.” He agreed but didn’t seem exactly alright with it. You had no choice but to grab your bag and go.

Before you knew it you were sitting in a chair in your boss’ office just across his desk from him.

Kim Taehyung radiated power in his well fitted dress pants and crisp white dress shirt. Although you couldn’t see his shoes, you knew they were Gucci and probably cost more than your rent. He said nothing for a moment as he leaned back in his chair with his dark hair perfectly glossy and parted. A dark eyebrow lifted at you. You felt incredibly intimidated by his silence and something told you that that was what he wanted.

When he simply just said nothing you decided to try to explain yourself.

“I-I-I’m so sorry I’ve been taking care of someone lately and-”

“I don’t care.” His reply was simple but sharp.

“I’m sorry sir.”

“I still don’t care.” He tapped his fingers on the arm of his very fancy office chair.

“What I care about is progress, because progress is money, and money is happiness despite what people say. You haven’t been making progress this week. I’m going to be honest, normally you impress me with how much you get done especially at home, that’s why I let you work from home, although, I do miss your pretty face wondering around the office.”

You were stunned by his boldness, but you’d be lying to say you didn’t expect it from him.

“As I said though, money is happiness because there’s not a problem it can’t solve. Car broken down? Buy a new one. Loved one need taken care of? Pay someone to do it. Depressed? Pay for a top notch therapist. Need love? Buy it. Now, it seems like you have a problem of some kind preventing me from making more money, and I’m not happy if I’m not making money. I guess that means if you’re not happy then neither am I… so how much would it take to add on to your pay every week for you to make us both happy?” He leaned in to his desk, bringing himself menacingly closer.

“What?” You replied not expecting this meeting to go this way at all.

“Shall we talk it over during a very nice dinner at six tonight?”

“I- I-”

“Alright. Still live at the same address in your employee information you listed?”

“Y-yes?”

“Good. I’ll pick you up at five forty. You may go.”

“I- uhh- thank you sir.” You sputtered as you stood but he began fiddling with papers and ignoring you like you weren’t even in the room anymore.

You walked home stunned and wondering what the heck just happened.

“Noona!” Jungkook was happy to see you when you walked back into your apartment to see him watching tv with Yoongi.

“How was he?” You immediately asked.

“Fine, a little on edge and kept asking if you were coming back yet, almost had a meltdown, but it was fine. It’s good for him to be away from you sometimes. So, are you in trouble? He said you were going to het yelled at.”

“Uhh no actually? I… I got a raise I think.” You still weren’t even completely sure what had happened in there.

“For what?” Yoongi seemed just as baffled as you

“For slacking off? I’m not really sure. The meeting was strange. I have to discuss the raise with him tonight at dinner, apparently hes coming to get me at five forty tonight and I have no say so in it.”

“Huh.” Yoongi said “listen, he might be your boss but don’t let him make you do things you don’t want to or aren’t comfortable with.”

“I’m comfortable with going, it’s for more money so-”

“That’s… not what I mean.”

“What do you mean then?” You clearly didn’t get it.

“Go to dinner, it’s fine just… I don’t know… just don’t let him make you uncomfortable or anything. I just- I know how you are now that I know you and… never mind, you’re smart.”

You blinked at him wondering if he would elaborate further, but he didn’t.

“Okay.” You replied “so you’ll watch him tonight?”

“Of course I will. We’re working on his speaking, right Jungkook?” Yoongi looked him and Jungkook nodded.

“Thank you so much Yoongi.” You felt so grateful for all his help that you couldn’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around him and locking him a tight hug.

He seemed a little stunned but he did bring his hands up to finally hug you back for a moment before you released him.

“You’re welcome.” He muttered “just make sure he knows it’s not a date, you know… unless…”

“No, no. It’s not going to be a date.” You said quickly with a laugh at the thought of dating that power hungry buffoon.

“Alright well I’ll see you both later tonight then.” With that Yoongi left.

“Noona, okay? Jungkook asked the moment you had closed the door.

“Of course.” You answered before sitting down beside him and taking a peek at what he was drawing.

You were shocked to see it was you. 

Every detail of your face was there on the paper but some how it looked so much better than you but you weren’t sure how.

Your mouth fell open and you looked at him.

He seemed kind of embarrassed as he tried to flip to a new page but you stopped him.

“That- that’s me!” You stated in awe.

“I- uh- I’m sorry.” He stuttered over his words as his face was going a bit red.

“No! Its amazing. Did you just draw my face from memory?” You were in utter awe but you were so flattered he would take the time to draw you and especially since he thought you looked like that

“Yes?”

“Its so good!” You smiled at him as you looked back down at the paper, scooting closer to him for a better look.

“You’re not…?” It seemed he couldn’t remember the word, but you did.

“I’m not upset, I’m delighted. You have so much talent. We have to get you more art supplies.” You reached up and patted his cheek tenderly.

“I- I missed you so… so I made you.” He explained looking like he was still hoping you weren’t mad and a little nervous.

“That’s sweet.” You grinned. You were glad he had found a way to cope with your absence in a creative way.

“You want? Not done… but you have?” He pointed to the page and offered it to you.

“You finish it first.” You urged and he nodded.

“So… so you leave again later?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, but Yoongi will be with you again if that’s alright. You like Yoongi, right?”

He nodded.

“But… not Jimin.”

You tilted your head at him. You had of course noticed this but you were now curious as to why.

“Why don’t you like Jimin?”

“Jimin is… he… looks…” he thought hard until let out a grunt of frustration at not being able to find the right words and you could tell this topic really bothered him.

“Hey, its okay.” You laid your hand on his arm as he brooded in frustration.

“Don’t like Jimin.” He muttered.

“That’s okay, I’m sure you have your reasons or you just don’t know him well enough yet. Either way, it’s okay.” You assured him before dropping it so he didn’t get anymore upset.

He relaxed as you made him some food and watched tv together for a while, he even laid his head on your shoulder for a while too and you let his soft deep colored hair tickle at your cheek as he did.

——

Your boss was right outside your apartment complex waiting for you at five forty on the dot.

Of course he drove a beautiful brand new sports car and of course he wore expensive looking clothes that were just a step more casual than his office attire. You wore a nice black dress that of course wasn’t Gucci.

The both of you didn’t really talk on the way there, you didn’t really know what to say to him anyway. The restaurant he took you to was as high class as you were expecting from him. It was all too much for your liking, but you were here for that raise not for the nice restaurant or your bosses company which was a good thing because he barely acknowledged your existence.

“So,” when he did finally speak he startled you with that deep, intimidating voice of his. Actually now that you thought about it, everything about him kind of reminded you of a super villain in real life form from his money to his posture to his presence.

He took a drink of wine and peered over the glass at you. “What would you do with a fifty percent raise?”

“I would…” as soon as you began to think about the hypothetical question, he spoke again.

“I was expecting you to be surprised and ecstatic, not tell me what you’d actually do with it.”

Of course.

Of course he actually meant it.

“Wait. You really plan on giving me a fifty percent raise? Why? I don’t deserve that- that’s- that’s a lot.” You were actually surprised.

“Depends.” He stared off towards the direction of the waiter.

“On?” you questioned.

“Would you like to keep me company for a few hours?” His question threw you off for a moment and confused you, you felt like he was speaking in riddles.

“But I just did, didn’t I?”

“Not this kind, sweetheart. Tell you what, you come with me to my house and we’ll see what comes of it and we’ll see whether you get your raise or not.” His smirk made you feel like the room had just gotten colder. It dissolved as he got the waitresses attention and asked for the check.

You got it.

Once it clicked in your brain, you were frozen.

You felt uncomfortable and Yoongi had told you not to let him make you uncomfortable, but what were you supposed to do?

Well, you could say no and leave.

“You could always say no.” He offered seeing you in shock. “But I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Why?” You asked but you were afraid to know.

“Because you could be making more than any other person on the marketing team… maybe more than on anyone on any marketing team in the city. I could make you head of marketing, your job would require less work and you’d be getting paid so much you won’t know what to do with it. Or…” he stared you down now “you could not have a job. I could fire you right now for any reason I wanted, you could never work in marketing again once I put your name out there along with all of your inadequacies. Hope you didn’t go to school too long for it.”

You felt sick.

You knew he could do it. You knew he had the power to.

He was one of the highest earning men in the city and here he was threatening to ruin your career.

It made your skin crawl.

Did you need the money, no, but you did need a job and you had worked yourself to death at university to be what you are now. You had invested the last couple of years in Kim Taehyung’s company.

You swallowed down your nervousness and everything in your body telling you to just get out of there, that it didn’t matter… but it did matter.

“H- how many times?”

“Just once.” He said “but lets hope your fucking isn’t as terrible as your conversational skills.”

At least he wasn’t terrible looking, but the crawling feeling your gut paid that no mind anyway.

—–

You stopped right before your apartment door for a moment as you tried to compose yourself before unlocking it and going in as quietly as you could. You thought maybe you could just sneak into your own apartment.

You were surprised to see Jungkook still awake with Yoongi though.

“Hey guys. Thanks for keeping him company, Yoongi.” You tried to get out before Jungkook jumped up to hug you and squeeze you to death.

You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything about how late it was.

“He wouldn’t go to sleep until you-” Yoongi was cut off by Jungkook poking your neck and examining it. You clapped your hand over it and Yoongi’s eyes narrowed

“Can we talk?” Yoongi’s friendly tone had completely changed.

“Um… uh… no. I’m pretty tired.” You lied.

“Is there something else wrong?” You already knew he knew, he probably did upon you walking in so late.

“Umm…” You didn’t know what to say, you were just standing there holding everything in. Right now, you just needed him out, you needed his judging eyes off of you.

Yoongi suddenly took you by the arm and told Jungkook to stay in here while he dragged you off into the kitchen.

“Are you alright?” Was the first thing he asked.

“I- uh, yeah.” You did your best to sound casual.

“Why did you do it?” Was his next question.

“Do what?”

“I see the mark on your neck, I know, okay? I told you not to let him make you feel-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine okay?!” You were beginning to feel irritated because talking about it only made your skin crawl more.

“It’s not.” He crossed his arms and stayed calm with you.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Your reply was quick.

“Which is a huge red flag! What did he threaten you with? I know you’re not like that.”

“You don’t! You don’t know what I’m actually like okay?!” You whisper yelled at him but he just rolled his feline like eyes.

“You can’t be serious. I know you wouldn’t fuck your boss! It’s obvious you wouldn’t! You always want to do the right thing and-”

“Shut up Yoongi! You still don’t know me and I said I didn’t want to talk about it! Just leave, okay?!” How many times did you have to tell him? You just didn’t want to talk about it and you wanted him to leave it at that.

“Whatever.” He replied and stormed off out of the kitchen.

You reentered the lounge just in time to see him whispering something to Jungkook and he gave Yoongi a nod in return.

“I said leave, Yoongi.” You stood  firm and he did as you asked this time.

“Noona?” Jungkook said after Yoongi slammed the door behind him and you locked it.

“I’m going to have a shower.” You said angrily, you couldn’t take any more questions or judgement. Would Jungkook judge you though? Could he?

You scrubbed your skin red and raw attempting to get the scent of your boss’s expensive cologne off your skin, but it was burned into your brain, you couldn’t stop smelling it and it disgusted you further.

It wasn’t that he was bad in bed or even cruel or anything like that, you just hated yourself for sleeping with your boss when you didn’t want to, you hated that he had made you do it, that you had felt so pressured to give your body to him. Now your body didn’t feel like your own.

You wordlessly headed to bed and the moment you laid down you had to work harder to fight off the tears.

You continued to fight it more and more but you just couldn’t sleep.

And then you couldn’t fight the tears or disgust with yourself any more and began sobbing into your pillow.

“Noona?” There were soft knocks at your bedroom door.

“Noona okay?”

“I’m fine Bunny.” You called back just to get him to stop worrying, but you clearly weren’t fine and it was obvious in your voice and there was no hiding it.

Your door squeaked open.

“Not fine.” Jungkook whispered as you sniffled and tried to get yourself to stop crying. “Yoongi said noona not fine, take care of noona.”

“I’m fine, Jungkook.” You sniffled again as tears continued to flow down your eyes relentlessly.

“How do I take care noona? Noona take care of Bunny and… I don’t know how to care noona.” His brows knitted together and you read the desperation and sympathy on his face.

You began to cry again and felt the side of your bed sink in.

“Jungkook, just-”

He was lifting you up to just look at you. He seemed confused like he had never seen a person cry before, surely he had in his dramas, right? Or maybe he was just lost as to what to do for you.

His eyes followed a tear rolling down your cheek and he lifed a sleeved hand and wiped at your wet face.

“Cry. Sad? Why is noona sad? Work yell?”

That’s it, he didn’t understand why you were sad, and you weren’t about to tell the poor sweet soul.

“No, no.” You shook your head.

“Then why?”

His voice was quiet and as smooth as always like a melody, only this time it held a tinge of sadness.

“I- I can’t really explain.”

“That’s okay, it’s alright.” He told you what you remembered telling him a few times before, he was reassuring you.

“I know, Bunny.” You sniffled once more.

“I don’t like noona sad. It… it…” he put a hand on his heart and squeezed it into a fist in a swift and powerful motion. You realized what he was trying to tell you.

Heart crushing.

He thought it was heart crushing that you were sad.

You looked into his big, pretty brown eyes and you began to cry again and you didn’t know why. Just looking at him made the sadness, the guilt even heavier.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest, he laid back taking you with him until you were laying directly on top of him, head on his chest with his arms wrapped around you. You willingly cried on him. It was an intimate position, it probably would’ve given you a heart attack had he done this at any other time, but you didn’t concentrate on that right now. It didn’t feel strange or foreign at all to you, it felt warm and comforting and safe. You thought about how it was the exact opposite with you boss not long ago. Jungkook helped to take the feelings away, to cancel them out with his warm breath on the top of your head and arms holding you.

“It’s okay, it’s okay noona. No more sad. It’s okay.” He whispered quietly to you. “Noona is good person, noona is kind, noona cares. It’s okay.”

Your brain flip-flopped at his reassurances, Maybe he did know.

He just kept whispering kind things to you, anything and everything he could say until your sobs quieted.

#jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yandere yoongi #yandere!yoongi #park jimin #park jimin x reader #jimin x reader #yandere jimin #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #yandere taehyung #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #yandere jin #jung hoseok #hoseok #kim namjoon #namjoon #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfic

[clairecrive]

“Let’s stay home”| Quarantine AU

As promised here chapter 5. I’ve made it long to apologize about posting it late. Again, I’m sorry. However, I hope you enjoy it. As always if you have any ideas or things you’d like to see happen, let me know! Next chapter, someone will make a cameo, who do you think will be?

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye, @mollybegger-blog, @of-love-and-of-the-sea, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @evelynshelby, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner (let me know if you wanna be added)

If you lost a chapter: Masterpost

Chapter 5 - “Concert”

"Oh my god, yes, yes, yes!" Her loud scream of enthusiasm was heard throughout the house alarming its guests.

"What? What's going on?!" Tommy ran out of his room out of concern regarding her screech, thinking the worst.

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Came Alfie's annoyed grunt as he got up from the chair he was sitting on with the help of his cane. Being cooped up in the house all day wasn't helping his sciatica at all.

But Emma didn't grace either of them with an answer. Instead, she simply jumped off her bed while calling her friend on Facetime, completely clueless of the worried men that were standing outside her room waiting to know what was going on.

Squirming on her feet, failing at staying still, Emma sported a huge smile on her face while she waited for her friend to connect. Half expecting to see Bane's face popping up on the screen, Alfie thought about leaving, not wanting to repeat the other day's situation but contrary to his expectation, a female face appeared on the screen. Adjusting his position against the door so that he was more comfortable, he now was genuinely curious. It was the first time that Emma talked with a female friend. He had even begun to think that she didn't have any.

"Jen, have you heard?" She excitedly asked her friend that seemed none the wiser.

"Emma, it's literally 8 am here. You're lucky I even answered you."

"Well then, I'm about to make your day ten times better. Check the message I've sent you on Telegram."

"Can't you just tell me?" Jen's tired voice complained

"That's not fun, I'm building the suspense." Emma firmly explained waiting for Jen to do as she said.

"What do you think is going on?" Tommy asked Alfie.

"I've no idea mate. No idea." Alfie simply said, scrolling his shoulders while not removing his eyes from Emma's form.

After a couple of seconds of silence, which saw Emma grinning like a fool and Tommy and Alfie simply standing there like some clueless bodyguards, Jen's squeal brought Emma's smile only to widen while Tommy and Alfie were startled, the former losing his balance while the latter lost his grip on his cane. What the hell...

"Thank all the gods in Olympus, they've blessed us!" Jen's face reappeared on the screen now mirroring Emma's expression.

"I'm so happy Jen, you've got no idea. I really thought they were just going to refund us."

"I told you, you had to be positive about this! You never listen to me, you pessimistic bitch." Jen sassed making Alfie's eyebrows shot up and Tommy's lips to pout.

"Can you, for the love of God, tell us what's going on?" Alfie's voice prevented Emma to respond, making her finally aware of their presence in her room.

"Oh, hello boys." She simply greeted him not understanding their worried stance. When they gave her an allusive look she finally explained with a big smile.

"Harry's concert got rescheduled."

"And that's what got ya screamin like a fucking banshee?" Alfie grumbled

"Other concerts have been simply cancelled and the tickets refunded. This way we still get to see him." Now fully facing them, she elaborated.

"Fucking hell." Alfie simply muttered under his breath leaving the room. She turned to Tommy but her confusion only grew.

"Next time I hear you screaming, you better be dying." He said before leaving as well.

As confused as ever, her face resembled the question mark which made Jen laugh.

"Ugh, men," Emma joked.

"While we're on the subject, how's the living together thing going?" Jen noisily asked wiggling her eyebrows making Emma know that she was here for the tea.

"It's going well actually. So far, at least. They've been surprisingly helpful so I'm not complaining."

"You're stuck with three handsome, mouth-watering men and that's all you're going to tell me?"

"I know they're attractive Jen but nothing is going to happen. We're friends."

"If I were you, I'd walk naked all the time and hide their clothes so that they'd also have to be naked all the time. You'll see how something will happen then." Jen shared her absurd plan topping it with a suggestive wink.

"You're missing Nik, eh?" Emma affirmed more than asked knowing very well that being away from her boyfriend was really taking its toll on Jennifer.

"You've no idea. This is going to be pretty tough, not going to lie. There's only so much we can do on video chat and of course, it's not like the real thing." Her friend complained, making it very clear why she was missing her boyfriend so much. If there was something that Jennifer wasn't, it's certainly being smooth. She's the kind of person that's very upfront about things, whatever they are.

"I can imagine." Was Emma's attempt at being sympathetic. Her relationship with sex was really different, however, she could understand Jen's problem. If she had a boyfriend whom she loved as much as Jen loved Nick, maybe she'd miss the connection that comes with sex too.

"I'm here, terribly horny and suffering for this quarantine and you're standing there surrounded by dicks and you won't take advantage of it!" Jennifer loudly complained, getting cruder and cruder and Emma couldn't help but scrunch her face in horror at her friend's choice of words.

"My god Jen, get a grip on yourself girl," Emma jokingly reprimanded her, " You should have come here when I invited you then."

"Unfortunately for me, I'm awfully loyal and Nick's dick is the only one that I want. But I know that you'd have been delighted by my presence, you don't have to pretend."

"Oh damn, you got me. My life is empty without you." Emma indulged her. It wasn't completely false, she did miss the girl a lot.

"I know, I know. Listen, babe, I've gotta go, Nick's calling me. I'll talk to you later and please, think about what I've told you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, bye Jen." Emma willingly ignored her last statement and ended the call with a nostalgic smile.

Emma was fully aware of how unconventional most of her relationships were. She never really thought about them that way, it was always people's reaction to them that made her realize how strange to an outsider might look. But to be fair, however unorthodox her relationships may seem, they were all based on mutual respect and honesty. When people asked her if it was true that she and Tommy were just friends, Emma would always be puzzled by their astonishment. Yes, they had been together. So what? Some people work better as friends. And yes, Emma wasn't blind, Tommy was sexy af but while she could admit it without shame she would also be lying if she said that she thought of being with him. Been there, done that. It didn't work so she moved on. As did he, there was an understanding between them.

Alfie was a totally different thing.

They had started off as friends but both of them felt that there was more. That there could be more. And in fact, there was. They tried it out and it was working just fine until her job cut in and ruined everything. She had to leave. And neither of them were too sure of a long-distance relationship. Alfie respected her decision, he knew how important her job was for her, how ambitious she was. But breaking up was inevitable. And so they did.

However, since there really was mutual respect and affection between them, they kept in touch. Sure, it wasn't the same thing and both of them had had different partners in the meantime, but they always found their way back to each other.

So, when it came to them, friends was a reductive word but it was better than to explain their whole relationship to some stranger every time. They would better fit under the heading "it's complicated" but a global pandemic wasn't the right time to deal with this situation and finally label their relationship. Emma knew that that was why she was ignoring Alfie's jealous remarks and Jenn's proposal. Things were already difficult, neither of them needed them to be even more complicated.

Days went on like this then: Tommy and Alfie that would bicker from time to time, always because Alfie would provoke him in some way; Eddie would jump in and either fuel their discussion or would spend his time tormenting Emma. He was surprisingly helpful though. He would go out and go shopping for necessities claiming that it was impossible for him to get infected, he would help her clean up and take care of the house. As long as he lent a hand as he was doing, Emma wouldn't complain about him pestering her. Emma and Bane would still video call every other day to keep in touch but he was unexpectedly evasive when it came to his whereabouts.

Everything was going fine. Emma knew that she was one of those who had it good, that's why she couldn't find it in herself to complain about this whole situation. However, if she could speak freely, she'd have to admit that her mood was progressively getting worse. She tried to keep a routine to keep her busy but the truth was that she was finding it harder and harder to get out of bed and do things, with each passing day.

She still tried though. Because she had taken a commitment with the other guys and had chores to do, but also because of her job. And most importantly she didn't want anyone to know that she was feeling so blue. Emma was one of those people that prefer to deal with their problems by themselves and shy away from any kind of attention when they're going through something.

Up until this day, end of week two in lockdown, she had pulled it through. For whatever reason though, this day had hit her harder than any other. Maybe it was because of the article she was supposed to write. It was about self-love, how important it is and what are the different ways one could take care of themself quarantine edition. The topic wasn't weird perse, Emma wrote frequently about this kind of stuff, it was just that she felt like a scam writing it. How could she write about self-love and ways in which people could make themselves happy, especially in these difficult times, when she was the first one who was miserably failing in doing so?

Yes, it was definitely this the reason for her sulking.

She was lying on her bed facing the ceiling with her head dangling at the end of it trying to find a way around this article that she had to write. Caught up in her thoughts, she didn't realize that the door of her room was open and that anyone passing through could see.

"Em?" Tommy's voice anchored her to reality and made her eyes snap open. However, she remained in her weird position, not bothered to lift up nor to answering him.

"What are you doing?" He walked further into the room but didn't get too close to her.

"Thinking." Emma just mumbled, scooping a little further so that her head wasn't hanging anymore. Nodding, Tommy got close to her now, and lied down beside her but facing the other way.

The reason why Emma and Tommy had stayed friends after they had hooked up, was because before that night they had actually hung out a lot. Emma was writing a piece on the tournament he was taking part in, Sparta, and had heard about him and his brother. In order to actually write the article, Emma had to speak with both of them. She didn't expect to get along so well with both of them. Not that Tommy was that much of a talker when they first met. Only a few short answers here and there and the occasional joke. However, Emma knew a little of his backstory and had also the impression that there was more to him than met the eye. He was hurt. Emma had no doubt about that. And just like her, when he was hurt talking to people was the last thing she wanted.

After coming to that realisation, dealing with Tommy became easier. He gradually opened up to her, even if it was only a little, and they got along really well. In some way, they were alike. And once you've found a soul similar to yours you tend to keep it close.

With time Tommy had learnt to read Emma just like she did with him during their first time together and come to the understanding that when Emma closed off like this, she was hurting.

He didn't say anything. He just laid there, next to her. Held her hand letting her know that he was there for her but leaving her the time to open up if she wanted to that is.

"Right, what's goin on in here?" Alfie's voice startled them both but while Tommy rolled his eyes, a little annoyed by his interruption, Emma reluctantly smiled at his antics. Sometimes, she wondered why he was so amusing to her and then realized the warmth and comfort that he brought her along with his annoying ways.

Pushing her head so that she was looking at him upside down, she smiled when she saw him standing there with his hands on his hip like an angry lady.

"Could you please stop pouting and come here and cuddle with us?"

Everyone knew that Emma was an affectionate friend. But for her to be so outspoken about it and asking for affection? It was a red sign and Alfie recognized it. So stop pouting he did and made Tommy scoop so that he could lay on her other side, holding her hand.

Their sweet cuddling session would be short because Eddie would soon be coming back from the grocery store but they all enjoyed while it lasted. Sometimes, Emma realized, the best self-love tip was simply being surrounded by our loved ones.

#let's stay home #quarantine AU #modern alfie solomons #alfie solomons #alfie #alfie solomons fanfic #modern alfie solomons fic #tommy conlon #tommy riordan #tommy conlon fic #eddie brock #eddie brock fic #alfie x oc #tommy x oc #eddie x oc #alfie solomons fluff

[chaotic-good-hawke]

Character Interview: Fenrir Lavellan

Tagged by the lovely @mocha-writes. Thank you! I will tag @sadmagecentral​, @caed-nuas​, @dickeybbqpit​, and anyone else who would like to! 

9:42 Dragon, at Skyhold, shortly before the final confrontation with Corypheus. 

name ➔ “Fenrir Lavellan. Did you not know that? Hm, seems strange to interview an unknown stranger.” He is most definitely teasing the interviewer.  are you single ➔ “No, I’m not single.” He can’t hide his smile and really he isn’t trying to.  are you happy ➔ “I would say I am, yes.”  are you angry ➔ “Should I be?” He tilts his head to consider the interviewer.  are your parents still married ➔  “...no, unfortunately my father passed some years ago.” 

NINE FACTS

birthplace ➔ “In an aravel somewhere in the Free Marches.”  hair color ➔ “White.” eye color ➔ “Violet.” birthday ➔ “I was born in 9:15 Dragon. The exact date is only important to remind my cousin Hela that I am older than her.”  mood ➔  “Curious.”  gender ➔ “Male works.”  summer or winter ➔  “Winter. The snow is lovely.” 

morning or afternoon ➔ “Morning.” That smile again. “No, I will not elaborate.” 

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

are you in love ➔ “Yes, I am.” do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “As a novel convention, sure. In real life? I think people can have an instant attraction and connection, but I would hesitate to call it love. Though, I am willing to admit I may be wrong.”   who ended your last relationship ➔ “You know, I think she did, actually.” He looks deep in thought. “It was mutual, but she initiated it.”  have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “Not purposefully.” are you afraid of commitments ➔ “No. Not at all. I commit to everything I do and I feel the same about my relationships, whether romantic or platonic.”

have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “Many someones, actually.”  have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ “They wouldn’t be secret if I knew, would they?” He says with a smirk.  have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “I...perhaps...no, probably not.” 

SIX CHOICES

love or lust ➔ “Love. Lust is fun and all, but love is transcendent and wondrous.” He gets a faraway look before refocusing on the interviewer.  lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Iced Tea. Dorian swears by it.”  cats or dogs ➔ “Dogs, I’ve found, are the friendliest creatures in existence.” 

a few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “I have a few close friends, but I also care about those who are not as close. So, both.”  wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “Both are good, both in the same night is the best.” He grins to himself, ignoring the interviewers prompting stare.  day or night ➔ “Night. No, day.” He thinks. “Both. Why must it be either or?” 

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

been caught sneaking out ➔ “Many, many times. I swear my mother had the most sensitive ears in all the land.” He paused, suddenly looking worried. “Please don’t tell her I said that.” 

fallen down/up the stairs ➔ “I can neither confirm nor deny the incident from Windersend and anyone who claims otherwise should be reported to the spymaster.”  wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ His cheerful face freezes for a moment before he answers, tone tinged with regret. “Yes...but we can’t change things just by wanting and many things are beyond our control. Falon’Din takes many away.”  wanted to disappear ➔ “Oh, a number of times when Hela and I were caught in some shenanigans. That would have been handy. Also, directly after the explosion of Haven, but then I would not be here, so I suppose it all worked out.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

smile or eyes ➔ "Not to be contrary, but the smile that is so true and overtaking that you see it in their eyes.”  shorter or taller ➔ “There are benefits to both. Both is good.”  intelligence or attraction ➔ “Again with these either or questions.” He sighs. “Intelligence, I suppose. Good conversation and debate is incredibly attractive.” hook-up or relationship ➔ “I was open to either, but I prefer relationships, particularly the one I am in now.” 

FAMILY

do you and your family get along ➔ “Yes. My family is very close, though Hela and I have oft tried our elders patience when we were younger...well, mostly when we were younger. I hope I will see them again soon.” would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “There are dark things in my past, but can that not be said of everyone? I do not consider my life to be “messed up” in particular.”  have you ever ran away from home ➔ “No. Well, never longer than a day. I had never intended to leave so permanently, but things happen.”  have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ .”No? Well, Hela and I would get up to mischief, sure, but it was never so bad nor permanent that we would be kicked out of the clan.”

FRIENDS

do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ “No. What would be the purpose of that? It would only hurt us both and be a waste of energy. If I dislike someone, I do not befriend them.”  do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “I believe so, yes.” He smiles fondly. “Creators, I am truly blessed.”  who is your best friend ➔ “I would say my cousin, Hela, though our positions have lead us to grow apart recently. Besides her, I am close with several here.”  who knows everything about you ➔ “Hela, unfortunately, know too much about me. But she is family, so otherwise, I would say Dorian knows me best...though Leliana may have them both beat, honestly, you can never be sure.” 

#Fenrir Lavellan #MY OCs #dragon age #character interview #Inquisitor Lavellan #the inquisitor

[twelvedreamsfortheredqueen]

Observations on the Hierarchy Of the Guard of Priwen

The Guard of Priwen largely remains a mystery to us as the player throughout Vampyr. No matter how openly we see them patrol the streets as some form of underground night watch, we only see glimpses of their true, and supposedly resurrected power, let alone witness the history of what they were before the schism from their “cowardly” brothers, the Brotherhood of St. Paul’s Stole. As Lady Ashbury parts with us, the Guard of Priwen is a secret society, one of many in the dreary and eerie vampire underworld.

I have other plans to delve deeper into the militaristic madness that is the Guard of Priwen’s inner workings and possible historical backgrounds, but I first wanted to share this small piece regarding the one detail that is most obvious in the game: the several Mobs we encounter with their logos splattered all across it. Therefore, this will be a shorter analysis solely dedicated to the possible hierarchy within Priwen, combining datamined research, the lore, and some fun historical notes behind each and every rank!

As per usual, this analysis will have spoilers, this time all the way through! All parts of this post will discuss Vampyr’s lore in detail, so please skip if you do not wish to be spoiled! 

Tagging @comfycheesecakes, @orionali, @cursedbethechoice as I imagine some of this may be to each of your interests. 

To preface a starting point point: Usher elaborates on the history of Priwen’s conception when Jonathan speaks to him in the West End inside his crypt: 

Usher also writes of them in the Collectible “Laughing at the Guard”, explaining their origins and beliefs from a historical point. The Collectible helps to detail the inner turmoils that founded the Brotherhood as well as the detailed purpose behind its creation:

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This gives us a starting point to Priwen’s possible background and development. 1801 places the birth of the Guard of Priwen in the Georgian Era, beginning from 1714 to circa 1830 - 1837. 

You will also see a militant trend following Priwen which is also an obvious fact in game but characters like Archer Woodbead in The Docks or Dorothy Crane in Whitechapel, both in Districts with the highest concentration of Priwen, this is a very visible trend for those around them: 

Dorothy’s exchange occurs if you Spare her as Jonathan, revealing a harrowing fact about Priwen’s encroaching behaviour in their fanatical fear of keeping any sign of vampire activity eradicated. Beforehand, Priwen guards burst in to the Dispensary regardless of your Pillar Choice as Jonathan, with the patients downstairs being shot to death should you check again with Senses. The bodies no longer have visible heartbeats.

When Jonathan begins to gain access to the rich streets of the West End, it, too, struggles to avoid Priwen’s influence with not only their guard presence, but also their criminal presence! 

Inspector Charles Jerome Albright will speak to Jonathan about the recent happenings and murders in London, claiming that there are:

Jonathan has the option to then report a possible suspect, one of these being Geoffrey McCullum, the current leader of Priwen:

If you choose McCullum, Jonathan calls Priwen a group of “vigilantes”; a vigilante is someone, or a group, who attempts to enforce laws (or their ideas of what is law) without the authority to do so.

With this very worrying trend now established, let us fully move onto dissecting Priwen’s inner workings!

GUARD OF PRIWEN

What’s interesting to note is that a lot of the current enemies in GoP have different names depending on where you look—from either the canonical versions in the game themselves, to the game files, or even the concept art. I will be looking at all three sources for any comparisons!

PRIWEN

To begin dissection—I will first begin with the titular names of each organisation for each of their respective sections, beginning with the Guard of Priwen. “Priwen” is a reference to Geoffrey of Monmouth’s (Latin: Galfridus Monemutensis, Galfridus Arturus, Welsh: Gruffudd ap Arthur, Sieffre o Fynwy)  Arthurian legend titled “The History of the Kings of Britain”, or “De gestis Britonum” (On the Deeds of the Britons) or Historia regum Britanniae”, written circa. 1136.“Priwen” is the name of King Arthur’s shield, hence, the Guard of Priwen:

“Without a moment’s delay each man present, inspired by the benediction given by this holy man, rushed to put on his armour and to obey Dubricius’ orders. Arthur himself put on a leather jerkin worthy of so great a king. On his head he put a golden helmet, with a crest carved in the shape of a dragon; and across his shoulders a circular shield called Priwen, on which there was painted a likeness of the Blessed Mary, Mother of God, which forced him to be thinking perpetually of her.” — Legends of Arthur, Richard Barber, 2003.

Arthurian myth utilized in several aspects of Vampyr, with this being one of the more prominent examples. The symbol of Priwen is also referencing this myth, as it resembles a Latin cross with a circle to represent a shield:

LEADER

This is relatively standard, but we do know that the head of the Guard of Priwen is always referred to as “leader”, as the notes done by Geoffrey McCullum and Carl Eldritch thus far are denoted by “leader”; the only exception is reserved for Kendall Stone who is also denoted as “Founder”. “Leader” is rather self-explanatory, as it simply means “someone who leads a group”. Interestingly, it also seems to be used for those who are not the head of Priwen either, as we see in the scouting note during Thelma’s side-quest: a female “team leader” who went by Amanda Tilton. This seems to indicate there is no specific or official title to discern the head of Priwen, perchance making “leader” more of slang or casual terminology that merely stuck through the generations. The below are either written manuscripts by the leaders themselves, or copies from another. 

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Kendall Stone’s denotation and signature:

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Carl Eldritch’s denotation and signature:

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Geoffrey McCullum’s denotation and signature:

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CHAPLAIN/SHEPHERD/PREACHER

(For the purpose of relevancy, I will mostly be focusing on the Chaplain terminology as that is the canonical one we see in-game, but will still be examining the Chaplain’s alternative terms and their origins.)

Chaplains are curious. You do not see them until much later in the game (other than certain exceptions regarding side-quests), there are two versions of them according to the game files, that being the Shepherd_Preacher and the Shepherd_Fanatic, but only one model, the Fanatic, remains in the game. Shepherd_Preacher is the first version of the Chaplain which we see in the E3 2017 Trailer. Their enemy busts are below; the model shown in the game files is only of the Fanatic:

Concept art also reveals them being originally labelled as “Preacher”, with a single exception being that sometimes, the loading screen within the game will use the title:

 Florent Auguy

The word “chaplain” is borrowed from Old French “chapelain”, which in-turn stems from the Medieval-to-late Latin “cappellānus” that also hails from a Medieval Latin to Late Latin word read as “cappella”. Notably, “cappella”  is defined as a chapel or a choir. The story of chaplains themselves hail from a 4th-century practice:

In the 4th century, chaplains (Latin cappellani) were so called because they kept St. Martin’s famous half cape (cappella, diminutive of cappa). This sacred relic gave its name to the tent and later to the simple oratory or chapel where it was preserved. To it were added other relics that were guarded by chaplains appointed by the king during the Merovingian and Carolingian periods, and particularly during the reign of Charlemagne, who appointed clerical ministers (capellani) who lived within the royal palace. In addition to their primary duty of guarding the sacred relics, they also said mass for the king on feast days, worked in conjunction with the royal notaries, and wrote any documents the king required of them. In their duties chaplains thus gradually became more identified with direct service to the monarch as advisers in both ecclesiastical and secular matters.

In modern usage, a chaplain holds a strange position within the religious circle they reside in, most notably because the definition of a “chaplain” is a cleric who is assigned to a secular institution such as a hospital, prison, military forces, universities, and so on. 

n. A member of a religious body (often, but not always, of the clergy) officially assigned to give pastoral care at an institution, group, private chapel, etc. A person without religious affiliation who carries out similar duties in a secular context.

…

Clergy and ministers appointed to a variety of institutions and corporate bodies—such as cemeteries, prisons, hospitals, schools, colleges, universities, embassies, legations, and armed forces—usually are called chaplains.

Often they are considered a religious leader or some form of a figurehead, with some chaplains previously being leaders of a chapel before their assignment to a different institution. Given Priwen’s circumstance of being an underground militia, the usage of the word makes perfect sense as the Chaplains of Priwen seem to hold the same responsibilities of real-life, in this case, military chaplains (as they are called) who serve in the armed forces (the concept of allowing religious figures into battle, to this day, still holds much controversy), or we can at least assume they do some of the following which are: 

A chaplain performs basically the same functions in most armed forces. A chaplain in the U.S. military must furnish or arrange for religious services and ministrations, advise his commander and fellow staff officers on matters pertaining to religion and morality, administer a comprehensive program of religious education, serve as counselor and friend to the personnel of the command, and conduct instruction classes in the moral guidance program of his service.

Beyond that, a “shepherd” has a variety of religious messages but to keep it short: “shepherd” stems from the Middle English word “schepherde” to the Old English “sċēaphierde” which is a mixture of the two words “sċēap” (”sheep”) and “hierde” (”herdsman”). A female version of the word is a “shepherdess”. The word itself has multiple sorts of definitions, with a rather funny one to think about at times:

n. A person who tends sheep, especially a grazing flock. (figuratively) Someone who watches over, looks after, or guides somebody. (figuratively) The pastor of a church; one who guides others in religion. (poetic) A swain (”young man”); a rustic male lover.

A “preacher” is as it sounds: someone who spreads their worldview or philosophy. In this case, it would be perhaps a gospel or a sermon. From the Old French “preecheor” (”prêcheur”), to Latin “praedicator” (”public praiser”, “proclaimer”). A female preacher is known as a “preacheress”.

EXECUTIONER/TRAPPER

Executioners, or Trappers as the concept art referred them as (see above), are the crossbow snipers wearing red, hooded garbs, able to throw gas grenades and flaming bolts, bereft of any melee resistance whatsoever. According to the game files, there are three types of Executioners. Here are the files:

Alongside their respective busts labelled Chemical, Fire, and Wood, their models are instead labelled CrossBow, FireCrossbow, and Sniper:

The word “executioner” is a combination of the words “execution” , which is borrowed from Old French “exécution”  (c. 1360) of the Latin “executio”, an agent noun (a word deriving from another word that denotes an action of some sort), of “exequi” (”to follow out”) which stems from “ex” (out) and “sequor” (”follow”) and of course, “-er”, from Middle English “-er” and “-ere”, as well as Old English “-ere”, and Proto-Germanic “-ārijaz” used as a suffix. “Executioner” is also a fairly self-explanatory definition; it literally means “one who executes”, but to ensure that we are being thorough:

n An official person who carries out the capital punishment of a criminal. (archaic) Executor (one who conducts a task). A hit man, especially being in some organization.

An “executioner” was historically seen as a “hangman” or “headsman”—a reference to the practice of execution via. means of public decapitation. This, alongside the file name of “Sniper”; the fact that the Executioner is only ranged, defined as “hit man, especially being in some organization” and that beheading would often result in instantaneous death, the choice of title is very distinct. Like beheadings, a sniper aims to kill with a single action—an underleveled Jonathan will easily be one-shot by an Executioner from afar, making their name strikingly fitting. The fact that they are a part of Priwen, an “organization” of sorts that specializes in executions of the undead, is simply a fond, bloody coincidence. 

In comparison, a “trapper” is, well, one who “traps” something, often animals for their hides or other precious materials. This may be an insinuation that literal traps of some kind were going to be added to the final product but were inevitably cut out. It does, however, fit Priwen’s perception of vampires—that they are feral animals to entrap and be rid of.

INVESTIGATOR

This will be short, as it is a term used in the game files and concept art for three ranks od Priwen, which happen to be the most squishy of mobs: Priwen Rookies (Rookie), Priwen Cadets (Veteran), and Priwen Gunners (Range).

“Investigator” is also self-explanatory: “one who investigates”, which is to say: 

v. (transitive) To inquire into or study in order to ascertain facts or information.      to investigate the causes of natural phenomena (transitive) To examine, look into, or scrutinize in order to discover something hidden or secret.      to investigate an unsolved murder (intransitive) To conduct an inquiry or examination. 

Said to have derived from the mid-1500s, from Latin “investigator” which hails from “investigare”. Interestingly, we know that female versions of each of these models exist in the game files apart from NPCs, confirmation of a female “leader” as shown above, as well as hearing female voices in the Prologue of Vampyr when Jonathan must escape the mass grave at dawn. Women were shown in the Alpha iterations of the game. Elwood confirms the presence of women in Priwen if you speak to him soon after Edgar’s kidnapping:

The feminine usage of this word is known as “investigatrix”, from Latin “investīgātrix”.

ROOKIE

Rookies are the most numerous types of enemies within the game as well as the first one you encounter within the Prologue. They only use melee weapons and hold resistance to Ranged Attacks. The sheer amount of them you find are most likely a reference to the Guard’s revitalized state in the wake of the Skal Epidemic. Ashbury mentions that Priwen was “almost gone” before Priwen began its new wave of mass recruitments: 

Jonathan will frequently hear references to this mass recruitment when wandering around idle Guards:

“Rookie” is also a rather simple word to dissect: an altering of the word “recruit” and “-ie”. There is also a possibly Dutch origin from the word “broekie”, short for “broekvent”, lit. meaning “a boy still in short trousers”, which explains why “rookie” is often used as a sort teasing term. To be technical:

n. plural “rookies”

An inexperienced recruit, especially in the police or armed forces. A novice.

As the first definition shows, it does have some bearing to Priwen’s overall trend of having a nomenclature relating to militaristic forces.

The Rookie’s respective enemy UI portrait and model:

CADETS/VETERANS

Cadets, or Veterans as the game files name them, are essentially Rookies with guns or flaming torches, only being somewhat tougher than fresh-blooded Rookies. This can be inferred as a progression in rank—a Rookie that’s survived their first couple of nights on patrol. They certainly look more well-garbed, and the term “veteran” also fits with this idea of experience alongside surviving the dreary, vampiric-ridden streets.

The Cadet’s enemy UI and model:

An interesting feature to note at this point about each of Priwen’s enemies is that the majority of them seem to have an undercut. At the time (and even now), undercuts were done on men deployed to the war as the militaristic style of the era—Jonathan and McCullum share ones of their own. This hints to Priwen’s military connections that many NPCs remark on (as shown above) and that some of Priwen’s members do hail from military backgrounds which are demonstrated in their extreme firepower and access to various parts of the city.

“Cadet” stems from French “cadet” from a southwestern French known as Gascon Occitan “capdet”, further back into the Late Latin “capitellum” (”headling”) shortened version of “caput” (”head”), sharing English form by 1634. “Cadet”, unsurprisingly, is also a term with military usage. The female version would be spelt “cadette”. It also holds a definition for “junior”:   

n. plural cadets

A student at a military school who is training to be an officer. (largely historical) A younger or youngest son, who would not inherit as a firstborn son would. (in compounds, chiefly in genealogy) Junior. (See also the heraldic term cadency.)      a cadet branch of the family

“Veteran” is borrowed from Middle French “vétéran”, of Late or Vulgar Latin “veterānus” of the word “vetus” (”old” or “aged”). It is a rather official word referencing one who has served in the military or armed forces, most specific to older soldiers or those who have seen long years of service. While the age of Priwen’s Guards can certainly be up for debate—Cadets, while relatively squishy, seem to be what Rookies advance to should they survive their first nights at the mercy of patrols, facing whatever awaits them during it.

GUNNER

Gunners are another frequent, early mob of Priwen that you encounter. They are about as numerous as Rookies and equal in their frailty, only they seem to be Rookies with more additions to their design and opt to only use Ranged Attacks, much like their fellow Executioners. The portrait shows no difference as it is a reused UI bust, but their outfits differ slightly.

“Gunner” sounds straightforward but does hold a military usage. One can literally define “gunner” as “someone who uses a gun”, but the word itself is a rank used in the British Army Royal Artillery. It is abbreviated as “Gnr”, and is equivalent to the military rank of a “Private”, which makes sense. They hold similar stats to Rookies, Rookies are stated to essentially be new recruits—privates usually act as the lowest, entry-level rank in the military after training has completed, which means that Gunners, too, are on par with Rookies in terms of Priwen’s hierarchy. 

BRAWLER/ENFORCER

Brawlers are quite the mixed bag of things. There are three different variations of them in the game files, are seen relatively early in the game, and serve as the brutish powerhouses Jonathan has to face when running into more of Priwen’s hordes. We seem them with heavy guns, a shield on their left arm, gas, and flames. A wide assortment of anti-vampire materials is cast onto a single kind of member, which proves interesting.  In the game files, they are known as Enforcers with three names: Flamer, Ram, and Shield (”Tank” seems to be used generally amongst all of them for clothing files).

“Brawlers” is defined as “one who brawls”, which is to say: “fight or quarrel”—of Middle English “braule” and “brall” (”brawl, squabble”) of earlier “braulen” and “brallen” (”to clamour, boast, quarrel”). Similar words from Middle High German (”prālen”; “to boast, flaunt”)), Low German (”brallen”; “to brag”), Dutch (”brallen”; “to boast”), and Danish (”bralle”; “chatter, jabber”) have also been considered, whose meanings make sense. Priwen’s guards hold no shortage of leech-related insults, but the Brawlers have quite the large assortment of them out of every other Guard member. A show of their imposing sizes and statures, I would wager. However, their large array of weapons, brute force, and usage of miniature bosses imply that Brawlers are quite high on the ranking list. Chaplains are the only thing larger than them, and it has been established that Chaplains are sort of seen as pious, leading figures. Consider this when taking a look at the game files term for Brawlers: Enforcers.

“Enforcers” is a combination of “enforce” and “-er”, with “enforce” coming from Old French “enforcier”, of the Late Latin “infortiāre”, from “in-” and “fortis” ((physically)“strong”)). I emphasize this word for the Brawler for one definition in particular: 

n.

One who enforces. The member of a group, especially of a gang, charged with keeping dissident members obedient.

Ram is also a reference to a battering ram (and the ability in which they charge at you) used in the British Police Forces. The second definition is specific to a Mob Enforcer. Priwen has access to multiple parts of London, with heavy access to firepower, large numbers, and seemingly free reign once night comes, kept entirely away from law enforcement. This is what discerns Priwen from a gang per say—their power and influence put them upwards to that of a Mob, or a “traditional gang” which is essentially a gang with overarching influence upon a region, to the point that they nearly act as the local law enforcement. Multiple mobs/traditional gangs existed, some of notable fame, throughout the Victorian Era well into the World Wars, many of which centred in the East End much like Priwen is: Peaky Blinders, Birmingham Boys, the “Sabini” gang, Hoxton Gang, The Yiddishers, and several others. 

Brawlers essentially being Mob Enforcers must mean they hold a lot of trust within Priwen to both be given the position of watching the other men, as well as proving they can also follow through with said position. 

With all of what we know of Priwen now defined, here is a chart of what I believe to be the hierarchical structure within the Guard of Priwen from what we have gathered:

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As Ashbury says: like all good societies, Priwen is still very much a secretive one even with such open recruitment. There may be inner workings we are unaware of, and what we have been revealed to may only be scratching the surface of what truly hides within the esoteric, fanatic-hunting organised Mob that Priwen has built itself into. Worse more is the mystery behind their schism with the Brotherhood: a once united group, now a duality that remains incessantly at odds. The way the current Brotherhood organises themselves is much more esoteric and theological than that of militaristic Priwen, a further representation of their dichotomy being at odds.

CREDITS:

None of this data collection would have been possible without the informative help of @wolfsirius and @orionali. Of course, I will never write a post without thanking @cursedbethechoice for their initial, contributive works to the lore of this fandom and for continuing to inspire me throughout. 

The tool I used to view these files was from Gildor’s Umodel Viewer.  

EXTRA COMMENTS:

This essay is exactly 3,724 words long!

It’s been quite a long while since I’ve written anything despite being active on the blog. Nearly a year now! I’m hoping this small introduction allows me to ease my way back to the projects I wanted to share (which are a lot) both here in full, and show peeks of on Twitter! Thank you to those who have continued to follow this blog despite the time gap. I hope to be much more frequent with Lore posts here!

You may notice a tag at the bottom labeled “secret societies series”. That is because I intend to have a small series of analyses dedicated to the three major factions we witness in Vampyr: The Guard of Priwen, The Brotherhood of St. Paul’s Stole, and The Ascalon Club. This will be the catch-all tag for any analyses relating to those topics!  …With a possible mention of the Druid Order (mentioned in the “Blood Goddess Heresy” Collectible). 

Other “series” are still in the works!

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ALL SOURCES/BIBLIOGRAPHY (in no particular order):

Legends of Arthur, Richard Barber, 2003 “GANGS”, Bill Sanders, February 2016 — Oxford University Press Chaplain, ENCYCLOPÆDIA BRITANNICA Oxford English Dictionary Merriam-Webster’s Online Dictionary Wiktionary Online Etymology Dictionary The British Army Website’s British Army Structure London Metropolitan Police’s Article of the Enforcer Wikivisually’s Article on the Enforcer (battering ram) Etymology of “Chaplain” – Traditional & Professional, Rev. Dr. Michael G. Maness, 1998, revised 2015, formerly published as “Meaning of Chaplaincy” The etymology of “rookie” in Wikitionary The etymology of “chaplain” in Wikitionary The etymology of “brawl” in Wikitionary The etymology of “enforce” in Wikitionary Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “enforce” The Mob Museum in Las Vegas—National Museum of Organized Crime & Law Enforcement Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “veteran” Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “shepherd” Online Etymology’s Dictionary’s Page on “preacher” The etymology of “shepherd” in Wikitionary. “investigate” in The Century Dictionary, The Century Co., New York, 1911 “investigate” in Webster’s Revised Unabridged Dictionary, G. & C. Merriam, 1913 King Arthur: The Mystery Unravelled By Chris Barber Journey to Avalon: The Final Discovery of King Arthur By Chris Barber, David Pykitt The Welsh Academy Encyclopædia of Wales. John Davies, Nigel Jenkins, Menna Baines and Peredur Lynch (2008) pg. 668

#vampyr #vampyr game #guard of priwen #dontnod #essay #secret societies series #it's been a while #good to be back! #mine

[little-murmaider]

Yeah, gimmie a A, C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, N, O, P - with a side order of R, S, T, U, V, W, X, Y & Z

Oh my GOD dude.

A - Your current OTP(s)/OT3(s)/OTX(s)

Skwistok, Nategaar, Nathan/Skwisgaar/Toki, Pickleface, Polyklok, Abigail/Literally any woman

C - A ship you have never liked and probably never will (be nice)

Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Murdertooth. Sorry. 

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t (again: be nice)

I kind of wish I liked Nickles? There’s a lot of great content for it! But I genuinely prefer them as friends. When people say they can’t ship Skwistok because they seem too much like brothers? That’s how I feel about Nickles.  

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom, if so, what

Answered!F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom

Answered!

G - Do you remember your first OTP, if so who was in it

It was either Arnold and Helga from Hey Arnold!, or Link and Zelda (in all LoZ media, but this was specifically Ocarina of Time). They’re both still up there! 

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.)

Every fandom I’ve been active in was for a TV show. Pokémon (I played the games but I wrote “stories” about the anime), Jimmy Neutron, Hey Arnold!, Teen Titans, Metalocalypse, How I Met Your Mother, South Park (BOTH OF WHICH I REGRET. FUCK THOSE SHOWS.) I dip a toe into other things cause I’m curious, but I’m unlikely to write fanfic for anything else. I did come VERY close to writing Adventure Zone fic recently but the impulse faded.

I - Has tumblr caused you to stop liking any fandoms, if so, which and why

I’m pretty good at Curating my Tumblr experience and blocking tags for things I dislike or just am uninterested in. Also MTL is the only fandom I’m active in and that one rules. If I see something annoying in another fandom tag I just bounce!

J - Name a fandom you didn’t care/think about until you saw it all over tumblr

Tumblr is the reason I got into TAZ! And I’m so glad I did, it’s my favorite podcast, I’ve gotten my fiance and some of my very close friends into it as well. Also the actual real name of my wedding dress design is The Aubrey, which is just FATE.

K -Say something nice about someone in any of your fandoms

Answered but also @fasthandfingerwizard​ is such a sweetheart and so kind, and @cthene​ has a fic that’s so good it makes me want to tear my skin off. 

L - Say something genuinely nice about a character who isn’t one of your faves (chars you’re neutral on are fair game, as are chars you dislike)

Answered, but Knubbler makes me laugh.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice)

Answered, but more Skwisgaar Content in general!!!!! Just!!!!! Let me see my boy!!!!!!!!

O - Choose a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of

Answered! I did it again and got Eet by Regina Spektor which reminds me of Toki. I have a lot of Regina songs on my Toki playlist.

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas)

I’ve created so many AUs including one very elaborate one please I’m so tired.

R - A pairing you ship that you don’t think anyone else ships

nAtEgAaR. jk jk jk. I tend to latch to pretty popular pairings, and the MTL fandom is pretty diverse in terms of shipping. I guess………..Abigail/Rachel? Only because it’s a pairing I literally made up. 

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

Skwisgaar was raised by wolves.

T - Do you have any hard and fast headcanons that you will die defending, about anything at all (gender identity, sexual or romantic orientation, extended family, sexual preferences like top/bottom/switch, relationship with poetry, seriously anything)

Skwisgaar is bi because I’m bi. 

U - 5 favorite characters from 5 different fandoms

Skwisgaar Skwigelf - MTL

Eleanor Shellstrop - The Good Place

Aubrey Little - The Adventure Zone

Violet - Monster Pulse

Joyce Brown - Dumbing of Age

V - 3 OTPs from 3 different fandoms

Skwistok - MTL

I’m Eleanor/Tahani - The Good Place

Link/Zelda -LoZ series

W - 5 favorite ships and 5 kinks you like best for said shipsNot comfortable answering this one publically

sorry!

X - top 5-10 characters who are yoUR PRECIOUS BABIES AND YOU WILL DIE DEFENDING THEM

Answered!

Y - What are your secondhand fandoms (fandoms you aren’t in personally but are tangentially familiar with because your friends/people on your dash are in them)

Good Omens, Stardew Valley. 

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged)

I don’t know man I just love Skwisgaar a lot! And I think he got shafted in the 3rd and 4th seasons and there was a lot of wasted potential for his character, and also Mean is not his only personality trait. He’s goofy! He’s awkward! He’s funny! He likes being included in things! There are a lot of fun directions the show could have gone in for him besides “horny” and “a dick” and “also there” and it was a WASTE.

#asks #ask box #WHEW this was A LOT thank you! #metalocalypse

[bountyofbeads]

What Happens When Ordinary People End Up in Trump’s Tweets https://nyti.ms/32bCiou

🍁🏈🍂🍻🍁🏈🍂🍻🍁🏈🍂🍻🍁🏈

What Happens When Ordinary People End Up in Trump’s Tweets

By MATT FLEGENHEIMER | Published Nov. 2, 2019 | New York Times | Posted November 3, 2019 |

McCALLA, Ala. — The evening of April 29 passed like many others for Ben Rawls, a fire lieutenant in Tuscaloosa: settled in the rocking chair on his porch, amid empty beer cans and mosquito-fighting candles, tweeting to an audience of dozens until he got sleepy.

“Granted I am in Alabama,” Mr. Rawls, 45, wrote around 11 p.m., after a major firefighters’ union endorsed Joseph R. Biden Jr. for president, “but most of the firefighters I talk to are voting @realDonaldTrump.”

The morning of May 1, some 36 hours later, was less typical.

Mr. Rawls showered and took his daughters to school. He ignored his phone, until it yapped so insistently that he had to look. An ashbin of Twitter comments greeted him: Racist. Moron. “‘Toothless’ — that was a good one,” he recalled.

The most curious posts disputed Mr. Rawls’s very existence. Strangers accused him of being a bot. He replied to one with a video he recorded in his pickup. “Here I am,” he said to the camera. “No faking here.”

All told, it took about 12 hours for him to solve the mystery. Back in his rocking chair, he stared at a fellow Twitter user’s note of congratulations: Mr. Rawls had been retweeted by the president of the United States.

Along with the Republican allies, Fox News hosts and conspiracy-mongering trolls whose messages President Trump pinballs across the political arena, he has also elevated regular people whose words he finds pleasing. Perhaps no group understands the praise-seeking cyclone that is @realDonaldTrump better than these arbitrary few who have lived inside it, briefly and usually unwittingly.

Their brushes with cybercelebrity are a portal into the Twitter feedback loop powered and experienced by Mr. Trump — dark, caustic, skimpy on nuance — where the ripples of a single presidential tweet can be hard to fathom unless measured against the relative anonymity to which these users were accustomed. Mr. Rawls got 2,700 retweets and 14,000 “likes” with the boost from Mr. Trump. The reach of his tweets before and since, he estimated, was approximately zero.

For many of the retweeted, the temporary platform stands as a testament to a style of politics they have never seen before — one that has bonded the president to his followers, virtual or otherwise.

“No other president has ever done stuff like this,” said Curtis Vincent, a 35-year old in Bowling Green, Ky., who operates one of the more than 215 unverified accounts Mr. Trump has retweeted since taking office. “They’ve been on a higher pedestal.”

Mr. Rawls, Mr. Vincent and several others were retweeted by Mr. Trump on May 1 after responding to a post by a Fox News personality, Dan Bongino, about the fire union’s endorsing Mr. Biden.

Joining them in temporary Twitter fame was Joelle Palombo, 46, a Southern California resident with 11 followers, who had largely used her account to cheer on her daughter’s soccer team. But after Mr. Bongino tweeted that “NONE of the firemen” he knew were with Mr. Biden, she replied with a note of support for Mr. Trump from one “fire family” out West.

The flood of reactions so spooked Ms. Palombo that she enlisted her teenage son to help block anyone she saw in her feed. The purge took three days, she said, and included the president, who she did not realize had retweeted her until a reporter told her months later.

“I went and looked at his account, and I blocked him,” Ms. Palombo said of Mr. Trump. “That’s how scared I was. I’m just one tiny hair on a dog. Are you kidding me?”

Although her affection for the president persists, Ms. Palombo questions the value of his favored medium. “How many hours of the day do people put in to do this?” she said. “I don’t need to have a voice on this. I’ll vote.”

Others have found more purpose in the practice. Mr. Rawls described himself as a reluctant Trump voter in 2016. He preferred Ted Cruz during the Republican primary, and he winces at some of the president’s choices, including insulting John McCain well after the senator’s death.

But as the 2020 election approaches, Mr. Rawls suggests, the president’s Twitter output is a more effective galvanizer than even the slickest campaign ad. “The tweeting doesn’t bother me so much anymore,” he said. “I don’t really feel like I wasted a vote.”

And the validation of the president’s retweet has encouraged his own more quarrelsome instincts. “Before all this happened, I would type something out and say, ‘People will think I’m crazy,’” he recalled, citing prospective tweets that he scrapped.

Since May, these second thoughts have been rarer. He has called Anthony Scaramucci, the former White House communications director, a “bitter jerk.” He has shared a doctored video of Speaker Nancy Pelosi appearing to slur her words. He has weaponized a gif of Judge Judy (“Either you are playing dumb, or it’s not an act”) to mock Representative Eric Swalwell, a California Democrat promoting gun control.

“I’m a little bit less of a wallflower than I used to be,” Mr. Rawls said, crediting Mr. Trump’s retweet. “I guess you could say I was more emboldened.”

CATCHING HIS EYE

Capital letters help. Sentence structure can be disregarded. Mornings, East Coast time, are best.

Grabbing Mr. Trump’s attention on Twitter is more art than science — and, often, more fluke than art. But some who have been retweeted say there are certain flourishes that can improve the odds.

The surest path is echoing Mr. Trump’s voice. The user @fiiibuster, whose profile boasts that he has been retweeted twice by the president, has built a following of more than 38,000 accounts — and won the digital stamp of approval from a man with 66 million — through a steady offering of posts that resemble Mr. Trump’s own. Among the words in @fiiibuster’s retweeted messages: “security,” “prosperity,” “America first,” “Pathetic,” “bad reporter,” “shame!”

In other cases, Mr. Trump has gravitated toward those who share his taste in reading. A few weeks ago, he retweeted Cathy Buffaloe, 70, a retired librarian in Walton County, Ga., after she quoted a Wall Street Journal column criticizing Representative Adam Schiff, the Democratic chairman of the House Intelligence Committee.

When she told her husband what had happened, he asked if she had simply dreamed it. She took screenshots to show to friends and gained about 200 followers. “It isn’t often that ‘regular’ people have an opportunity to be heard concerning national issues,” Ms. Buffaloe said in an email.

J. T. Lewis, a 19-year-old Republican candidate for the Connecticut State Senate whose brother Jesse was killed in the Sandy Hook massacre in 2012, was retweeted last year after writing a flattering message to Mr. Trump. When he traveled to Washington months later to meet with the president as part of a school safety event, Mr. Lewis brought a printout of the tweet.

“He smirked and signed it,” he said. “It’s in my room somewhere.”

Mr. Lewis said he hoped the president’s imprimatur would show that Mr. Trump was not in league with the conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, who has spread bogus claims about the Sandy Hook shooting, including asserting that the victims’ families were actors and part of a plot to confiscate guns. (In 2015, Mr. Trump appeared on Mr. Jones’s “Infowars” program and praised him.)

But Mr. Lewis is skeptical that getting through to Mr. Trump owes to any elaborate strategy. “I don’t think things are planned out the way we think they are from the outside,” he said. “I think that was literally just: Guy in pajamas, ‘Oh, this is a nice tweet.’”

THE WRONG IVANKA

“The fingers aren’t as good as the brain,” the president once explained, discussing the typos he makes on Twitter.

And those fingers have at times conferred a spotlight on unsuspecting tweeters with low opinions of him.

In a tweet one night in January 2017, just before his inauguration, Mr. Trump shared a message calling his daughter Ivanka “a woman with real character and class” and tagging @ivanka.

That Twitter handle belongs to Ivanka Majic, 45, a technology researcher in Brighton, England, who shares a first name and little else with the president’s daughter. Ms. Majic woke up to media inquiries and a dilemma.

“There’s a decision to be made,” she said in an interview. “If you’re going to say something, what are you going to say?”

Ms. Majic recognized she would probably never be handed a megaphone like this again. “He was a bit unlucky, really, that it was my Twitter account,” she said.

She settled on this: “You’re a man with great responsibilities. May I suggest more care on Twitter and more time learning about #climatechange.”

Instantly, Ms. Majic became something of a local luminary as her progressive city strained to process Mr. Trump’s victory. Days later, at the London chapter of the global Women’s March, one attendee’s sign read, “@Ivanka, loving your work!”

In the years since, Ms. Majic has celebrated an annual “Trumpiversary” to mark the occasion. But one news clipping from the time still grates.

“There was one article that said, ‘Ivanka only has 2,700 followers,’” she remembered. “I was like, ‘That’s quite good for a normal person!’”

_______

Karen Yourish and Larry Buchanan contributed reporting. Kitty Bennett contributed research. Produced by Gray Beltran and Rumsey Taylor.

🍁🏈🍂🍻🍁🏈🍂🍻🍁🏈🍂🍻🍁🏈

#trumpism #trump administration #president donald trump #donald trump jr #trumptrain #donald trump #against trump #trump news #news today trump #world news today #republican politics #politics and government #us politics #politics #social media #trump tweets #worldpolitics #world news #republicans #republican party #impeach trump #impeachment inquiry now #impeachtrump #impeach4peace #impeachment #u.s. news #democratic party #democracy #democrats

[pauldeckerus]

Guest Blog: Educator & Photoshop Magician Bret Malley

LIFE IS A COMPOSITE

Hello everyone! For this guest blog post (thank you Scott and Brad for the wonderful invite to contribute!), folks are probably hoping to eek out some super slick tips and tricks about compositing, both for shooting and editing alike (and I’ll definitely deliver on those—I promise!).

But I also wanted to get a bit more philosophical about the nature of compositing and its greater possibilities and implications in my own life’s grand composite—and perhaps yours as well.

For those that could care less about the musings and meandering background of a super Photoshop wizard/nerd and just want the goods, feel free to jump down to the header “Five Tips for Shooting and Editing Composite Images” (you’re welcome :-)!

For everyone else feeling either a bit more curious, pensive, or similarly introspective, please read on!

Put Daddy Down, Please

Like creating any new image, I like to start at the beginning with sketches of the process and figure out some kind of endgame. So here we go with a medley of biography, discovery, and realization—but first, an overview!

Filtering and searching way way back, some of my earliest memories are of making art with computers—and after teaching Photoshop for over a decade at the university and college level (yes, big time-leap there!), and writing two books on compositing in Photoshop, I realize the lens through which I perceive the world and life in general has been forever altered. It’s helped me shape my own creative direction. As my (nearly) six year old son now describes his dreams to me in terms of Photoshop tools and features (and accurately I might add!), I see that my focus has even spilled (just a bit) onto my family as well (sorry, family!).

I also realize that I’ve always been a compositor in life—or at least a collector, editor, and creator in some form for nearly my entire 33 years of being. I also believe that we all are compositors to some extent, whether or not we realize it; after all, life is essentially one mega composite we piece together one experience, moment, scar, and laugh at a time… I know, deeeep, right?

But seriously, there is a lot to be said about having a creative career concept, a goal, and using the pieces you have at hand (some garbage and some pure gold)—and seeking out or creating the ones for the concept we’re after. Yes, this is one big “compositing is a box-of-chocolates” life metaphor/story (please excuse the metaphor merge here). So for those interested in going a bit deeper into these layers, here’s a bit of my own composited story… And no, it does not start with a floating feather picked up by Tom Hanks—but that was a pretty damn good composited intro for its time!

A Little Personal History Panel Scrolling way back again into my own childhood, I was doomed to be an artist from the onset. Starting with lining beans up into a perfectly (obsessively) straight line on some craft paper, my mother had me pegged at only a year or so of age. I believe her gardening journal for that day read something prophetic such as, “he’s definitely doomed to be an artist.” Okay, she probably did not use the word “doomed” but the realization was definitely meta tagged in there.

And while my mom was hobbit level earthy, my dad was equally Tron level nerdy as he ran his own “cutting-edge” computer business in the 80s. Dual custody between the two was like going back and forth from PC to Mac every week—blast you Ctrl vs Cmd!

However, when living with my dad on his week with me, I had access to gadgets such as those early scanners (the kind you had to hand roll over your images with) and the very first digital art applications. I discovered that when bored enough, there was definitely quite a bit you could do with nothing more than a pencil tool and paint bucket.

I was constantly inspired with the fantasy garden dreamland of my mom’s place and was jacked into the Grid at my dad’s. This all happened with a backdrop of living near Yosemite as my non-virtual backyard. This combination made for some interesting early digital art to say the least! Hidden metaphor tip in this—pick out an interesting background if you can.

Fantasy Landscape featuring some good old archived Yosemite imagery. Mac OS is not the only one that gets inspiration from this place!

Learn From Failure And Success Unfortunately though, my first memory of inspirational and creative failure hit deep (definitely a destructive edit). Apparently the local county fair art competition judges did not understand digital art of any kind (there was definitely no category for it in the early 90s). I suppose I can dismiss my “honorable mention” non-award award, in that I was perhaps a bit too ahead of my time as the crayon drawn house with a crappy looking rainbow took first place that year. Solid play on that kid’s part though—and it’s a good thing I’m still not bitter about it… because that would be one strange snapshot of childhood to travel around with waiting to use as a background to motivation.

Speaking of which, these are all literal (mental) pictures in my life I that have inserted into a number of life compositions and choices. Some imagery we just have with us, and it shapes what we can do with it, who we are, and where we’re going with the pieces. My mental archive to this day is my most cherished inspirational material. Sometimes for texture, narrative, concept, or adding some atmosphere—or revenge! Check out my composite from ten or so years ago (notice the house with a rainbow? Take that, first place-winner kid from childhood!).

Rainbow’s End, a fantasy composite of over 200 layers created from my own photography archive back in 2008.

Each Composite Has Its Strengths, Difficulties and Elements of Contrast Scroll down/forward a bit to an awesome artsy Waldorf school education and my dad tragically passing away when I was nine years old (yeah, that one sucked). Regardless of what the life experience is, both joy and drama can definitely add dimension to the composite—and this too had a hand in heavily shaping the direction of my ongoing layering and the direction I have since taken the composition.

From then on, it was entirely up to my mom to see my interests in digital arts continued and supported—and for that she essentially made sure we had a computer loaded with art programs (thank you, mom!) including an early version of Adobe Photoshop (version 2), and the rest was up to me.

An interesting counterpoint complication to this form of creativity was the influences of my school. A large part of the Waldorf School philosophy was/is to heavily discourage computer and screen-time use for children (even back then) of any kind, so I was always a bit of a closeted digital art nerd.

This snapshot of minor intrigue and juxtaposition came in handy though, at least creatively—I was a well supported digital rebel. And contrast is always a nice touch for just about any final image. So is community and family support for that matter.

To Create Is To Play By the time I was released into the public high school along with my friends, we all had computers (finally!), and we were soon killing each other on networked computer games of extreme violence and gore. But even then, I was somehow the ultimate class creative nerd, even in gaming—and would use my super art/design magic to create beautifully elaborate and intricate game levels to then brutally trap and murder my friends within (what are besties for after all?).

This was another technical direction to the development of my creativity—and my friends definitely paid the price with their avatar lives. I learned that like legos, building your vision is incredibly fun and rewarding. Imagination could be made tangible—and even playable. This is how I think of digital creative tools to this day. Only with less gore.

Experiment And Push Your Creativity To The Edge Throughout high school though, I never took an actual art class until darkroom photography (which blew my mind and forever changed my life—more on this soon) my final term of senior year. Even without any traditional art classes for four years of high school, I was misguidedly voted on by my peers as “Most Artistic” student of our class (which I bet confused the hell out of those art teachers I never met).

However, it was the photography class that truly had the most impact as I found a catalyst for my creative medium. Even back then, I began compositing, Jerry Uelsmann style, in the darkroom, combining everything I shot.

At 18 years old I took a trip to Europe with some close friends, and started scanning and compositing the resulting images in Photoshop before I really knew what compositing was. Experimenting a bit and pushing yourself creatively is an important goal for any big project.

As mentioned, taking that photography course opened my eyes to the pure magic of a new kind of image creation. It also most definitely made me wonder why I took band as an elective for all those years instead of photography (what was I thinking?!)… But then again I may never have met my wife as she was first chair clarinetist, so there is that.

In any case, I went on to UC Santa Cruz for a degree in Film and Digital Media, then immediately on to graduate school at Syracuse University for an MFA degree in Computer Art. This is where I took my self-taught Photoshop skills to another level and started winning awards and various features—and my first master class tutorial in Advanced Photoshop magazine.

That, unfortunately, gave me the first inkling that I could indeed write a book on the subject. This was also a great lesson that just because you could do something, does not mean you should—but that’s another story entirely! (Sorry for writing the book, family! And the second one too).

Advanced Photoshop Magazine Master Class tutorial on Fantasy Landscapes.

Refine Your Concept/Goals and Find Your Drive During graduate school I also directed and edited an award winning feature length documentary on Greenwashing (Greenwashers 2011). Oh, and I also used my minor in electronic music to co-score the feature film as well. For some reason this still gets screened internationally at various festivals and educational institutions (as the concept is still fairly relevant across the world).

This epic filmmaking experience is where the concept of compositing comes back into more relevance. Each of these mediums (for myself at least) are nearly indistinguishable from a creative standpoint. For documentary filmmaking, it is about collecting, gathering, imagining, pre-visualizing, then shaping, arranging, layering, building, and whittling to the core of the concept and balance of the story and composition. It’s a different dimension of the same processes as compositing in Photoshop. Same with music composition as well—you build, piece by piece, layer by layer, getting each element in the appropriate location, at the right level of intensity and emotion—everything needs to resonate and blend seamlessly, intentionally. In this layer of my life (well, more like a smart object, really), it awakened the realization of power behind the combination of intent and craft. Results were the results (obviously?).

Enjoy your Inspiration Moving to the Pacific NW, my wife and I soon had a son, Kellen (okay, my wife obviously did all of the real work on that part of creation some six years ago), and my world became both smaller and much much larger all at once. The only creative outlet and interest I really had was in raising my little super-dude, so this became a literal compositing theme in my Photoshop work.

We all use the tools and resources we have at hand, so I unabashedly drew my family into my creative obsessions. Out went any need for gaming, and in came a new level of digital play that was more addicting than any high score or Facebook like (though I have to say, those were nice as well). This realization paralleled my earlier theme of finding out that creating is play in itself as back when I created my own video game levels. Though in this creative play, the gore was definitely replaced with the stinky kind waiting to attack me hiding in some little guy’s diaper—and I definitely paid the price this time around.

Make The Plan, Pursue The Goal With most of my own imagery archived deep, ready to pull out when needed, the most recent elements I had to plan, pursue, and persistently capture at just the right angle, lighting, and timing. From national and international client work, teaching at universities and colleges full-time, in addition to teaching online with Craftsy, CreativeLive, and now with KelbyOne (yay!), these pieces don’t always just fall into place on their own, but take quite a bit of shooting and reshooting to get done right.

I wrote the first edition to Adobe Master Class; Advanced Compositing in Adobe Photoshop before I turned 30, then when that one sold out everywhere, I wrote the second edition (aka tortuous-rewrite/expansion) which just came out this last December. Super proud of this one, though I’m still not sure anything is worth that much slogging at three chapters a week (one new, two edits). Okay, done complaining about my feather.

Conclusion In general, and in case it was somehow missed, this entire story is a bit of a composite in itself, right? It more or less has just the pieces that I feel fit with the concept, creatively, professionally, and personally. Quite a lot has obviously been masked out in this story, but I think that’s the point of compositing in general. Concept to finish, usage of vignettes, paying attention to eye-flow, hierarchy, it all matters in how we move forward and finalize the idea behind it all. We all have choices as to what we bring to our subject and narrative—and how we can better blend the elements we’re perhaps stuck with and the ones we still need to go out and gather.

With proper planning, imagination, numerous fails, attempts and more attempts—and loads of creative drive and obsession, we all composite to some extent. Hopefully we like the results and have a load of fun along the way. For myself, I’m doing my best to think big and make the most of each element I have. My final concept? Have a magical adventure and make it a blast! Okay… that sounded a little bit like I want to take a trip to Disneyland, but I think (hope) you get the point.

And now, as promised, here are some actual relevant tips on shooting and compositing in Photoshop—enjoy!

Five Tips for Shooting and Editing Composite Images

For shooting in-frame composites (ones where all the material is in the same framing), lock down your camera and settings, and use either an intervalometer—or better yet, the wifi or bluetooth wireless tethering capabilities of your camera and phone/tablet app if it has it. Not only can you see and control the live image on your phone or tablet screen, but you can easily see exactly how to better position every single element and push your concept and pre-visualization to the next level.

Again, for in-frame compositing, select each piece you want to bring into the composite using the rectangular marquee tool (M) and give loads of room around each element you drag to select—then copy (Cmd+C/Ctrl+C) and use paste in place (Cmd+Shift+V/Ctrl+Shift+V) in your master composite file. This will paste the selected content exactly where it was copied from, leaving out the guesswork and the wasted time spent having to tediously move the element to properly match up with the background content. Mask as needed—you may not even need to use Select and Mask, and rather, just paint with a soft brush around the subject and edges of the copies (if there is nothing overlapping behind it).

Sometimes a single layer can be slightly too light, too dark, too warm, cool, etc. than the others (even those shot during the same shoot!)—use clipped adjustments when this happens. This tip is an obvious one for some, but if you are not yet using clipped adjustments, you are definitely missing out on the amazing potential to isolate adjustments from layer to layer without globally adjusting your composite from the top down. To clip an adjustment layer to affect a single layer, place the new adjustment (or any layer with an altered blending mode that you want to only affect the one below it) directly above the one you want to clip to; next, hold down Alt/Opt while you click directly between the two layers. Just before you click, you should see the mouse pointer change to a clipped icon indicating the hotspot for this killer feature. Adjustment layers also come pre-equipped with this capability in the form of a button at the bottom of the properties panel for the adjustment layer.

When shooting composites such as adding a subject to a completely different background (such as those shot in studio being transported to outside or a different location in general), don’t just match lighting direction and quality (this should be a given, hopefully ;-), but match both original background shot focal length (check the essential metadata in Bridge or Lightroom to see your settings) as well as frame position and distance of the subject to the camera. This will not only make your compositing SO much easier in post, but it will definitely make it look more believable as our eyes pick up on even small things that are off—even if we can’t exactly put our finger on it.

One trick I use to better color continuity in all composite scenarios is to desaturate all the various elements, then bring in your own color cast effects or filters—then increase the vibrance as a global adjustment (not saturation). For warmer tones, try something like a new solid fill layer that is a yellow-orange. Change its blending mode to Overlay and decrease the layer’s saturation to under 15%. This always adds some nice warmth to a composite without muddying the highlights like the Photo filter often does. Another thing to play around with is the Color Lookup adjustment layer as this adjustment has some quite interesting presets that you can toggle through much like phone photography app filters. You can always use the adjustment layer’s opacity slider to bring in however much you want or don’t want for the desired effect.

And with that, I will leave you all to ponder the meaning of your own composites, whether in the grand picture of life—or more literally within Photoshop. Either way, rock on!

You can see more of Bret’s work at BretMalley.com, check out his classes on KelbyOne, and keep up with him on Facebook and LinkedIn!

The post Guest Blog: Educator & Photoshop Magician Bret Malley appeared first on Scott Kelby's Photoshop Insider.

from Photography News https://scottkelby.com/guest-blog-educator-photoshop-magician-bret-malley/

[gold-eyes-vengeful-heart]

Meet The Character :: Runya

► Name ➔ “Runya Damask, of course.” There was, once, another name he went by. But as far as he is concerned, it is long dead by now.

► Are you single? ➔ “I hardly have the time for anything else, you see.” ► Are you happy? ➔ His ears perk up and he smiles. “Well, I suppose I could say that for now. Yes, I’m happy.” ► Are you angry? ➔ “Aren’t we all, sometimes?” ► Are your parents still married? ➔ He chuckles for a moment. “They’re dead, you know. I’m not particularly sure it matters anymore.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “Mmm, one of the Imperial territories--Gyr Abania, to be specific. Nothing particularly special.” He idly waves a hand, but there’s something about the harder set of his jaw that implies he isn’t quite as blase about the subject as he tries to appear to be. ► Hair Color ➔  “Oh, surely you can see it for yourself?” He tilts his head to one side. “But that aside, I quite like this shade of maroon, thank you.” ► Eye Color ➔  “They’ve always been...hmm, would one call it yellow or gold? Regardless, it’s rather striking, I believe.” ► Birthday ➔ “I’m afraid I forget it half the time, but...the 16th Sun of the first astral moon, I believe it was. Not that it’s ever been of much importance to anyone, including myself.” ► Mood ➔  “Quite pleased.” He smiles so broadly that his eyes squint along with it. “I found out about a thing or two that I had been looking for for so long. How could I not be pleased with seeing a plan come so close to fruition?” But he doesn’t elaborate and his fluffy tail just twitches behind him instead. ► Gender ➔ “Male, I suppose.” ► Summer or winter ➔  “Summer. Why would one want to be cold?” He lightly rolls his neck. “The cold is...unpleasant. And reminds me of unpleasant things.” (Thoughts of the lab had flickered through his thoughts, unbidden.) “So I don’t particularly care for winter at all.” ► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Oh, the morning. But not by a large margin. The morning has a certain peace to it that allows me to work unhindered.”

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love ➔ “Ahhh...what fun would it be to tell you that?” ► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Oh, certainly. But it doesn’t mean I’m particularly enamored with the concept. Far too many fools mistake instant lust for love, you know.” ► Who ended your last relationship ➔ He just smiles and doesn’t comment. ► Have you ever broken someone’s heart ➔ “...Romantically, not that I’m aware of.” But his face falls just slightly, despite himself, an Elezen’s face floating to the forefront of his mind before he abruptly shifts back to his usual smirking. “Ah, but I digress. That wasn’t the point of the question, was it?” ► Are you afraid of commitments ➔ “I don’t fear them, you see--not at all. What I will say, however, is that I already have my own commitments and my own goals, and I value those over all else. And there’s only so much of me and my time and energy to go around, I’m afraid...” His voice is tinged with regret, at the end. ► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “There hasn’t been an opportunity for it, no. Not unless you count riding an egi as a ‘hug’ or a ‘someone’, and I don’t believe either to count.” ► Have you ever had a secret admirer ➔ He looks playfully surprised. “I’ve never been made aware of one, no, unless you know something I don’t. Why, I wouldn’t even know what to do with myself if I did have such a thing...” ► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ “Mmmm. I’ve made...many sacrifices for this plan. But it’s all for a worthy cause.” It had to be worth it, but the thought remained unspoken and just lingered somewhere behind his eyes.

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “I suppose I’d prefer the latter. Much fewer extended entanglements to worry about, and I am a busy man.” ► Lemonade or iced tea ➔ “Lemonade, by far.” He perks up slightly. “If you were going to offer, that is...” ► Cats or Dogs ➔ He actually laughs for a moment, and intentionally flicks his furred ears again. “I mean, I would be a rather strange man to not say cats, wouldn’t you agree? But on a more serious note, there was a good reason I didn’t particularly mind making myself look this way.” But what he means by that, he doesn’t say. “Cats were always interesting creatures to me. Very...self-sufficient and independent.” ► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “One might not expect it out of someone so gregarious, but I would prefer just a few dear friends over a large amount of regular ones.” ► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ “If only my work allowed it, I would be quite fond of the former. It’s interesting, getting to meet so many new people.” ► Day or night ➔ “The day. I fail to understand how one gets anything done at night, when even someone such as myself can’t even see, let alone work.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ➔ “What one would usually define as ‘sneaking out’ was, usually, an imprisonment sentence at best or a death sentence at worst, under the Empire.” He pauses. “Not that it ever stopped me. I was simply intelligent enough to not get caught at it.” ► Fallen down/up the stairs ➔ One of his ears flits back against his skull. “You didn’t see that yesterday, did you?” ► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ His smile gains an edge. “Of course I have. Very few people would be able to tell you they haven’t.” He leans in, his eyes glinting. “Why else would I have done all of this shite to myself, why else would I have let them carve me open again and again--why else would I have put myself through Garlean experiment after experiment, if I didn’t want to see them burn that badly?” ► Wanted to disappear ➔ The bizarre intensity suddenly disappears. “That, I can definitively say no to. I won’t be disappearing for quite a while yet, if ever.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes ➔ “I do enjoy a good smile, thank you.” ► Shorter or Taller ➔ His smile gains a wryness to it. “I would have to say taller, if just because finding anyone shorter would be quite the task. Otherwise, I have no true preference.” ► Intelligence or Attraction ➔ “Much to your disappointment, I’m certain, I won’t be able to truly pick either one. I find both to be of some importance.” ► Hook-up or Relationship ➔ “Again, I hardly have the time or the energy to expend on the latter...so I must pick the former.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along ➔ “They are, indeed, all dead from being mere soldiers in the metaphorical Imperial grinder. So it’s rather a moot point. But...I did always get along with my parents best.” ► Would you say you have a “messed up life” ➔ “...You would amuse me greatly by trying to insist that I don’t. Do go on.” ► Have you ever ran away from home ➔ “Is that not what I did by escaping the Empire at the Wall?” He looks curious. “Because if so...yes, though I only needed the once.” ► Have you ever gotten kicked out ➔ “Mm, I was considered just enough of an investment of Imperial time and energy and materiel that they weren’t too keen on getting rid of me on a whim--and getting rid of me would entail some form of gruesome death, I’m sure. So no. I had to escape them.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends ➔ He slowly tilts his head to one side until it’s resting at a distinctly uncomfortable-looking angle. “...No? There are acquaintances that are quite unaware of my ire for them, yes, because I just need something they have, but friends? Of course not.”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends ➔ “Do you not?” But he avoids answering the question in favor of the next. ► Who is your best friend ➔ “Ah, dear Brannon. Though I do believe he’s rather upset with me at the moment, for a variety of reasons.” ► Who knows everything about you ➔ “No one knows everything about me, you see. I explicitly ensure that it stays that way. Where’s the fun in life without a little bit of mystery to be unveiled?”

Tagged By: Nabbed it from @sunlitpeony​ after doing this on my main, haha

Tagging: Anyone who wants in on it!

#; responses #heeeee i had a bit too much fun for this one #even though he's a fucking inveterate question-dodger