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marierg · 1 year

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Of Light and Darkness: Phantom in the Dark 3

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi X Reader

WARNINGS!: Grief, Delayed grieving reactions, funerals, Stress, instant parenthood (of sorts), self loathing, self doubt, if I missed any Lemme Know! On the Opposite side of that there’s of comfort and fluff too.

A/N: I don’t own any rights to the story or characters in Cannon Star Wars. There are a few portions of the dialogue within this chapter. This is a Loving tribute and work of Fan fiction, with a few tweaks and twists of my own! I felt that Palpatine’s dialogue needed just a tweek, probably be more so in the future. I mean the man hid in plain sight for years and I feel that he would have played a few situations differently. It always seemed a great shame to me that we never saw Obi Wan get knighted. I mean it’s a very big deal and his ceremony was probably rushed and his master couldn’t be there. The man seriously needs the cuddles, Anakin too… Anyway enjoy!

PS- This will probabily be the last chapter for a little bit. Unfortunately I’m dealing with some health stuff and need to get a few ducks in a row. BUT!! I am still working on the writing while I’m out of commission. Thank You all for supporting this lil fic writer, you mean the galaxy to me!

Picture Credit: Lucasfilm And Pinterest

Word Count:4050

Masterlist Next Part

The three of you escorted Queen Padme and the greeting committee to the newly landed diplomatic cruiser. The Trade Federation prisoners had been annoying at best and argumentatively belligerent at worst, handing over custody would be a relief. You had been keeping a keen eye on Anakin and occasionally reminding him to ignore the prisoners while walking to the vessel. You could feel his anger as clearly as you could see it. You couldn’t blame the boy for how he felt, your own emotions very near the surface.

Turning to him again you gave an imploring look, “Please Anakin, I know you’re upset, but we all need to stay calm. Can you help me by doing that?”

“They’re the reason for all of this.” He kept his eyes forward in an effort to ignore the prisoners.

“Then they are also the reason you are here, one of the dominos in a long chain of events that led to this point. We don’t always get to choose what happens to us Anakin. We do have a choice of how we react, don’t give them the satisfaction of your anger.” Obi Wan replied calmly. The young man took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. You squeezed his shoulder and tried to remain centered. Obi Wan was reaching out to you, his signature sad but much steadier than before.

“You’re shaking,” Obi Wan looked at you, his concern only half hidden, “are you alright wee one?

“Not really, but now is not the time,” your throat was sore and you felt tired to your very bones, “How are you holding up?”

“I think I’d rather face a firing squad.” His eyes dropped to his toes. “Too late to run now though.”

“I know.” You wrapped his signature in your own, hoping to give what comfort you could. “You’re not alone Obi Boy, I’m right here.”

Queen Padme looked to Gunray and the other prisoners with distain. “Now Viceroy, you’re going to have to go back to the Senate and explain all of this.”

Captain Panaka fell out of rank taking a step toward the Viceroy. “I think you can kiss your little trade franchise goodbye.”

The prisoners were taken on board the ship and the new Chancellor exited the ramp beaming at you all. You bowed in respect to the man’s rank even if he waived to stop you from doing so. “We are indebted to you for your bravery Obi Wan Kenobi and Y/n L/n. And you, young Skywalker, we will watch your career with great interest.”

The Queen of Naboo stepped forward, extending her hand to Chancellor Palpatine, the white makeup and dark, bulky gown hid the few injuries she had well enough. She was no longer the warrior and friend from earlier, instead the visage of a planetary ruler, though the young woman did glance Anakin’s way frequently. “Congratulations on your election Chancellor.”

“No, my dear, it is you who should be congratulated,” Palpatine bowed humbly, touching her hand to his head then coming back to stand, “Your bold actions have saved our people… all of our people. The children of Naboo shall always remember this day and all who fought. Together we shall bring peace and prosperity to the galaxy.”

The two politicians walked towards the Palace and the Jedi Council then proceeded down the ramp towards you. Many familiar faces were there including Yoda, Ki Adi Mundi, Plo Koon, Yaddle, Even Piel, and Deppa Bilba.

You got along with your Masters former apprentice, enjoyed her company even, but you always felt imperfect by comparison. She had become a knight a few years before you had been reassigned and now sat on the Council the same as her Master before. As Deppa came toward you with the others her eyes conveyed empathy and perhaps worse pity, you dare not glance at any of the others.

Mace had observed you and Obi Wan as he had exited the ramp, giving that stoic look of concern that had become habitual by now. There was a deep sadness within both of you, one he felt as well. Losing a friend and fellow Jedi was never something he got used to. He had also noticed how you placed a protective arm around the Skywalker boy.

Both you and Kenobi then privately plead Anakin’s case to Master Yoda and himself. It was yet another time that he would feel both frustration and pride. As so often before you’d argued on the young man’s behalf, not only from the perspective of the Jedi Oath, but as an advocate for his welfare. Obi Wan was staunch in his position that Anakin be accepted into the order showing the slightest hint of his former youthful brashness. While it would take time to consider the decision it was also abundantly clear that both Padawans had yet to even take respite from the days events. Mace dismissed the two until the afternoon briefing, hoping to at least evade the decision for the time being, more pressing matters needing to be addressed. Looking at your face he cursed himself yet again for assigning this mission to both of you.

Yoda gazed at his colleague sensing his thoughts, “Always protect your Padawan, you cannot. Taught her well to protect herself you have.”

“Perhaps.”

Obi Wan was exhausted mentally and physically. As there was no time for sleep, meditation would have to suffice. You had been given rooms in the far wing of the palace overlooking the falls. His emotions still swirled and churned much like the water below. Try though he may to find the calm within Obi Wan was thwarted at every turn, tortured instead by images of the Sith standing over Qui Gon. The anger and sadness circled within him still, barely contained, and that frightened Obi Wan more. Remembering the fear he had seen within your eyes, he could tell that you had felt the darkness as well.

You returned from your walk, having changed back into your familiar robes, injuries hidden beneath the protective layers. Anakin was asleep on the settee having come to be with someone he was at least familiar with, new tear streaks staining his face. He had been through so much and you were relieved he had found the comfort of sleep, even if it currently eluded you. Moving to place a blanket over him you then strode to the balcony. Any other day you’d have snuck up on Obi Wan and tickled him till his stony expression changed, but this day had robbed even that small joy away. You chose instead to perch silently on the padded bench and wait for him.

Obi Wan rose and joined you on the bench, pausing momentarily before laying down to place his head in your lap. Wrapping an arm around your waist he clung on, afraid that you would be ripped away from him next. You started to hum an old tune, stroking his head and back. Obi Wan wasn’t a child in need of coddling and he should be able to deal with these feelings on his own, but he couldn’t stop the tears. Adjusting position you pulled him closer, rubbing circles on his back.

“I’m here, you’re safe now…I have you Obi Boy…I love you.”

The briefing before the Jedi Council was not a pleasant task. Obi Wan had gone first having to relive the duel against the Sith and Master Qui Gon’s Death. Master Ki Ada Mundi had scoffed stating it wasn’t possible, the being had to have been a skilled assassin and nothing more. There had been voices of doubt and denial, while others had seen the look in both Padawans eyes that this was no exaggeration nor falsehood.

“What more proof do you require?” Obi Wan’s patience was wearing thin. Feeling the tap of your boot on the floor though he took a steadying breath. Why would the council not see what was plainly in front of their noses.

“I’m trying love, I’m Trying.”

“I know Obi Boy, steady on.”

It was your turn to narrow your eyes at the council members still protesting. As your late Master was apt to say on many a mission, “Some beings are like chem sticks, they need a good shake for the light to go on.”

Stepping forward you pulled out a wrapped item from your robes. Even Obi Wan was surprised by this. “I had hoped that the wise members of the Council would hear the truth of our statements. I suppose sometimes seeing is believing though.”

You didn’t unwrap the package directly, instead suspended it with the Force not wanting to directly touch whatever was inside. “I went back down into the power station to see once more where this creature fell, to confirm for myself what I had seen with my own two eyes. I understand that it doesn’t seem possible. However, I found this on the ground by the pit.”

Floating it over Master Mundi manipulated it apart, revealing the blood red kyber within. Master Windu kept watching you, assessing you or your actions. You well understood that this would rankle his sensibilities and land you in a world of trouble, if you weren’t already there. In your mind though there was simply no refuting the evidence before them.

Master Windu cocked his eyebrow, “I’d say that there’s no longer room for doubt. It was a Sith that killed Qui Gon Jinn.”

Obi Wan bowed his head heavily, both from relief and residual guilt.

“Agreed and also troubling...Very troubling. How came this to pass without our knowledge?” the master shook his head sighing. “Young Y/n your testimony now, tell us you will.”

Yoda saw your head dip and take several deep breaths. You had obviously performed your duties well, but the question remained as to what plagued you so? You told the Council of the intense fire fight and being caught. Told them about the fight with Haako and how you were responsible for his death. Master Windu heard how your voice cracked, your fingers were clenched tightly into fists. “I’m sorry Master I’ve failed you.”

“In what way have you failed my apprentice? Did you not see that the Queen remained safe? Did you fail to protect yourself?” his tone was even.

“No Master, but I have taken a life. A healer is a protector of the living and the mark of a good Jedi is to show mercy. I didn’t intent that my actions should kill him, but none the less that Nemoidian’s blood is on my hands. I must hold myself accountable for my actions and will abide by your judgement in this matter.” You kept your chin and eyes level though your jaw was clenched tightly enough to break.

The Council of course had seen both security holograms and knew what each of you had faced. There had been interviews with The Queen, Captain Panaka, Sabe and others. The decision in both cases had already been made, and so Mace rose to deliver the Councils verdict. “Obi Wan Kenobi and Y/n L/n, Padawan learners, kneel.”

Obi Wan glanced at you seeing equal confusion in your eyes. As the two of you knelt the rest of the council gathered in a circle around you. Your Master looked to the both of you. “It has been many years since such an unusual trial was faced by our Padawan learners. Obi Wan Kenobi, you were once almost lost to the order, but returned and grew wiser from your experiences. You are now unique amongst our ranks having fought what has not been faced in a millennium. By your bravery and might an enemy of the Republic and of the Jedi was vanquished. I know that Qui Gon would be very proud of you.”

Obi Wan’s eyebrows raised infinitesimally, glancing to you then back to having his eyes forward. Master Windu then turned to you and in a rare occurrence his face softened a little. “Y/n L/n the path of a Jedi Knight is both of the warrior and of the peacekeeper. It is unavoidable at times to fight, injure, or kill; It is never done lightly. It is the wisdom to know that when you draw your blade though the one before you may fall, all who stand under your protection shall endure, that life may continue.”

Master Windu lowered his blade to Obi Wans shoulder, then sharply raised it freeing his braid. “By the right of the Council, By the will of the force.”

He then lowered his blade to your shoulder and sharply cut your braid free as well. “I dub thee Knights of the Republic.”

Raising his blade, he saluted you both, “Rise and be recognized.”

There were solemn congratulations, each of you shaking the hands of the council members and of each other. When Deppa had stepped forward you were still uncertain if she would greet you with disapproval. Deppa hesitated a moment then wrapped you in a hug offering you sincere congratulations, it was possibly the second most surprising thing of the day. Master Plo had patted the both of you on the shoulder in the familial way that he had treated you since you were younglings in the Creche. Yaddle had sidelined Obi Wan to speak privately, wanting to offer her condolences and to explain how painful it was for Qui Gon’s Master when he had heard the news and why he had not come.

After all was done Master Windu and Master Yoda requested to speak with you further. Obi Wan was still nervous that the petition on Anakin’s behalf would be denied. He though back to a few short hours before when the two of you had argued the case, it seemed an eternity ago now. Kneeling once more to be at eye level with Master Yoda, Obi Wan noticed that your posture was ramrod straight and braced. Master Windu was also tense, from the petition or from the decision though was the question.

Yoda paced back and forth on the polished marble floor, uncertainty was not something he was use to feeling in his many years of existence. “Confer on you the rank of Jedi Knight, the Council does. But agree on you taking this young boy as your Padawan learner, I do not.”

“Qui Gon believed in him, and I believe in Qui Gon.” Obi Wan was keeping a calm tone.

“The chosen one the boy may be; never the less grave danger I fear in his training.” The old master clacked his staff for emphasis.

“Then it’s even more important that he be taught well and that both his education and developmental needs be appropriately met.” You used the same clinical tone that was reserved for talking with senior resident physicians at the hospital. It took everything in you to remain calm and focused.

“Your petition was well made earlier my Pa…Y/n.” Mace might not ever get used to that, a part of him always seeing you as that fourteen-year-old apprentice he trained.

“I’m sorry my Master I meant no disrespect to you or to Master Yoda, but there is a grave concern here that I have not yet mentioned.” You peered briefly at Obi Wan and back to the two council members. “Where there is one Sith there is bound to be another, this cannot simply be an anomaly. If this young man is not taught and taught well how to protect himself then there is a real possibility he could fall into malevolent hands.”

Master Yoda bowed his head, “If correct your presumption is, still in danger young Skywalker may be. With or without training.”

“Master Yoda, I gave Qui Gon my word. I will train Anakin, without the approval of the council if I must.” Again it was said in an even tone, but there was an edge to Obi Wans voice when he said it. Even your eyebrow raised, it was unlike him to let his emotions run in front of the Senior members.

“And I gave my word to Anakin.” You nodded, though you still didn’t want to talk about your other promise.

“Qui Gons defiance I sense in you.” Yoda replied to Obi Wan, then motioned his staff in your direction. “Stubbornness from Melri too. Need that you do not.”

The old Master began to walk a pace to stand before the window. There was still a funeral to attend and his heart was heavy. It was times like these that he felt every day of his almost 900 years of life. So many souls had he seen brought into the Temple and then lost to old age or battles. That Qui Gon should have had more time in the living world only to be cut short by a sinister force hidden to even him. Sighing heavily he faced the two young Knights. “Agree with you the Council does. Your apprentice young Skywalker will be.”

“Thank you for your faith, Masters.” You smiled relieved at the decision. Both of you stood and bowed your respects.

Master Yoda and Master Windu watched the two young people as they left. “How they have grown… and we become old. When came she to be so mature?”

“She was always that way, one only had to look hard enough.” Mace sighed, not for the last time thinking of another wise, stubborn woman.

“Kenobi too, no longer the boy we judged so harshly.”

“I think Skywalker might just surprise us yet. If he’s anything like those two.” There was a hint of amusement in Mace Windu’s voice.

“Revealed through the Force and time, we shall see.”

The funeral for Qui Gon was a quiet affair, very formal and sorrowful. Obi Wan took Anakin back to your temporary billeting, caring for the young man kept him distracted from the grief. You had asked if he had wished to join you, Obi Wan had only shook his head, thanking you for going on his behalf. After everyone had left you had taken some of the cremains to the woods overlooking the city. It was home to many creatures, flowers and trees, the living Force that Master Qui Gon had followed in life. It was something you both had in common, not wanting to be laid in the dark or in stone. No life begets life as the old tales held and death was only a transition to another plane of existence. The stars shone brightly overhead. “I hope you like this spot Master Qui Gon.”

Bowing your head, you hoped he could hear you, somewhere out there. You had to believe that he had somehow rejoined Tahls spirit within the Force and that he was happy, Maker knew he’d more than earned it. Taking a deep breath you released the ashes into the air, watching them swirl and fly off. Tears that you dare not shed till now broke free. “I’ll miss you Master Qui Gon, more than you’ll know. You were my family when I was so very lost, you were the reason I met Obi Wan. Thank you for all you taught and did for me. Tell my Master hello and don’t worry about the boys, I got them from here.”

“There is absolutely no hope of getting the boy ready in time,” Obi Wan rolled his eyes at you.

Knowing what a crunch you were under to make the festivities you glared at him. Really this whole victory parade thing was something you could take or leave, preferably leave. However as you, Anakin, and Obi Wan were guests of honor there was no avoiding it. “I’m quite aware of the time.”

“Anakin hold still I’m almost done!” you snapped a little in exasperation; it was like trying to braid a bowl of gelatin. Looking at Obi Wan you raised an eyebrow. “You could help.”

“I still can’t believe I get to be a Jedi!” Anakin wiggled to the side, still kicking his feet that dangled from the tall chair.

Obi Wan extended his hand steadying the chair with the Force. “A Padawan learner. Then if you pass the trials and only then you will be a knight.”

“Thank you.” Sighing in relief you were almost through the final braid wrap.

Anakin was undeterred, “And I get two Masters!”

“Well yeah Ani-man, you need the extra help to catch up. DONE!” Throwing up your hands you stepped back to examine your work. At this point you were happy the braid was neat and looked uniform.

Obi Wan watched as you did a final inspection of Anakin’s robes, seeming satisfied. The padawan braid thread was color twined of blue and gold, a gift from the Queen and her handmaidens. He couldn’t help shaking his head again, still not quite believing that the two of you had somehow pulled this off. The boy hopped down and excitedly skipped about the room. “Can I go show Padme?”

“Yes. She’s probably already at the staging area, just meet us there.” Your terse tone belaying your exhaustion.

You went to the mirror to check your own hair, yet again found to be falling out of place. Sighing you pulled out the tie and finger combed the strands. You were cursing under your breath to the reflection that didn’t look how you wanted it too. “Sith Farking Hells… Damned stupid hair… should just chop it off.”

Obi Wan smirked as you tried yet again to put your hair up in a semi-symmetrical manner. Anakin had dashed off to see his friend, finally leaving the two of you alone. Taking the tie out of your hands he gathered the hair sifting out the knots. “Here Darling let me.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be short with either of you.” The dark circles under your eyes matched the bruising on your face. He had begged you to treat the injuries, but you had insisted that you bear them as penance. Looking to him in the mirror as he pulled your hair back to braid it. Obi Wan continued to stroke his fingers along your head and neck soothingly, taking his time. When he was done you brought his arm around you, needing an anchor. “Obi Boy are you… are you sure about this? It wasn’t a very… I mean the timing…If you’d rather teach him on your own…”

“Ssshh.” He turned you around to face him. Neither of you had been given a moment to absorb all that had happened. Obi Wan’s own feelings were a torrent waiting to be let loose, but for now he had other things to care for. Cupping your face he brought his forehead to yours, “Y/n, I wouldn’t want to do this alone or with anyone else.”

Obi Wan held you close, burying his nose in your hair. Your soft cries were muffled against his chest and it broke his heart again. Raising your chin, he began kissing the tears away. You held tightly to his arms, taking a steadying breath. “There wee warrior, right as rain.”

“You’re too good to me. I should be the one comforting you.” You kissed the inside of his palm.

“When there’s time love, when there’s time.” Obi Wan gave your forehead another kiss.

“I’ll hold you to that Obi Boy. Alright let’s get this show on the road.” You pulled him to follow you, pausing when you felt resistance you were pulled back to him.

“We probably won’t get much time with each other alone, when we return. So, I just wanted to do this.” Obi Wan kissed you then, trying to encapsulate all that he felt. It left you breathless, blinking up at him. “I love you Y/n L/n. Thank you for saving me.”

“Love you too Obi Wan Kenobi, and you never need to thank me for that. You’ve saved me more times than you know.” Pressing your forehead to his you tugged his arm again. “Come on we gotta go get our kid.”

“Our Padawan, Master L/n.”

“Oh I like that, Master Kenobi.” Snorting you left hand in hand.

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thatmultifandomhoe · 4 years

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A Lifetime under Moonlit Nights

Word Count: 5,289

Overview: It was a love story that began when Gods roamed the Earth, and lasted over the course of several centuries, always under the beauty of the moonlit sky. But when one life is cut too short, you realize how tiresome it is to constantly be reborn.

Pairing: Seokjin and Reader

Genre AU/Rating: God AU - Fluff - Angst - Past Lives - Reincarnation - Rated: PG-13

Warning: Character Death - Greek Mythology - brief mention/appearance of Jungkook and Seonghwa.

Master List:

Pinterest Mood Board:

A/N: Part of the Bulletproof Bingo Event hosted by @ficswithluv

©thatmultifandomhoe 2020. Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without permission.

The sun had long since fallen for its slumber, allowing the moon to grace the world with its silver beauty. Millions of stars were intricately stitched into the sky overhead, and the dew from the grass leaving small wet patches on Seokjin’s clothes, but he didn’t mind.

It was in the early hours of the new day that he waited for you. The meeting spot was far from the world he called his home, but he went out to the country side where the grass reached his knees and the purple wisteria tree you loved so dearly created a veil between the two worlds.

Every night when he came to this spot, you were already there waiting from him, hidden within the branches and their petals, that ever-patient smile painted on your lips. Only on rare occasions did he find himself arriving first.

On those nights, he’d usually hide behind the tree until you arrived, cheeks flushed red and chest heaving, worried that you’d been too late. It was then that you’d sigh, allowing yourself to catch your breath as you sat on the ground, fingers running along the blades of grass as if they were a dear friend. He’d then wait, a gentle smile always present as he listened to your soft mutterings for a few moments before suddenly appearing.

Sometimes there would be the clanking of glasses, an occasional treat hidden within the picnic basket you’d bring along. Then the kisses would be rich with sangria stained lips, but Jin would always say that he’d get drunk off you and not the wine. You’d laugh, possibly even call him corny, and the stars would shine brighter in the midnight sky.

Tonight however, he laid on the grass in front of the trunk of the wisteria, recalling the day it had been planted. That had been a different time and way of life. Easily over a hundred years and was yet just as beautiful as the day it grew, unknowingly from his magic.

Magic that sadly, many have forgotten.

These were now the days of lore and myths, stories told to wide eyes souls and used for lessons to navigate life, but everyone seemed to forget that perhaps, once upon a time, were the very fabric of everyday life. Gods and Goddesses once roamed the Earth before retiring to their new homes in the heavens. Only a handful remained and lived in modern society.

As God of the moon, Seokjin slept his mornings away and spent his nights making sure that the moon stayed in the sky until dawn. Whether or not he was in a good mood or not, was reflected in how dull or bright the stars appeared.

Most of the time, the stars were easily seen. When he was with you underneath the wisteria tree, they gleamed liked freshly polished diamonds. For living as long as he had, it was hard to be affected by the on goings on mortals and he had all but managed to turn a blind eye to their antics. Sometimes on his travels, he’d spy someone walking alone or a couple out on a late night adventure and he’d be reminded of you, and partially amused, he’d bless the rest of their night or offer them protection with the moonlight, ensuring a safe journey to wherever they wandered.

You were the only human that he cared deeply about, and when you were sick or hurt, the stars would dull, and remain so until you were yourself again. Jin was a God and yet, the very thing he was in charge of, was really controlled by you. He was wrapped around your precious fingers, wanting nothing more than to please and treasure you.

“Jin?”

Tilting his head, his lips curled into a smile when seeing you standing in front of him, the wisteria petals parting like a curtain for you. The scarf you wore to cover your head was silver, glowing every so faintly that one might mistake it for a reflection of the moonlight up above. For a brief second, the light surrounding it grew brighter in his presence before disappearing.

“What are you doing here so early?” you softly asked, letting the branches slide from your palm as you joined him.

Jin raised an eyebrow as he stood, slipping his hands into yours as he gave a gentle kiss to your cheek. “Is there another who you meet here?” He teased.

“Ah, but you’d know if I was meeting someone else,” you shot back, unfolding the blanket on to the ground by the tree.

“That is true, the moon sees all.”

His smile softened as you laughed, the sound reminding him of the music that Jungkook played to soothe the other Gods when things didn’t go their way. But yours was better.

You carefully lowered yourself to the ground with his help, sighing when you leaned backwards against the trunk. For a brief moment, his smile faded at the sight of your face scrunching up, knowing that it wasn’t because you had sat on an awkwardly placed root.

“Darling,” Jin said, settling next to you on the blanket. “I can come to you so you don’t have to walk this far out.”

But you shook your head, choosing to lean against his chest as he curled his arm around your waist. “I’m fine. I swear, these trips are the only time I get to leave the house these days.”

He knew that. Which was why he had asked Jungkook to check on you when he made his journeys with the sun. Some days were better than others, but according to him, you spent the days sleeping more often than not. It worried Jin greatly, and even his brothers were showing their concern. With the modern age and new medicine, mortals had begun to live longer than before.

However, this mortal body was already failing, and you were barely halfway to your thirty years.

Inhaling the sweet scent of the wisteria, he laced his fingers with yours, trying to ignore how they had a shake to them that didn’t used to be there.

“Please,” he whispered, kissing your cheek once, twice. “I’d hate for you to get hurt on your way.”

“Jin—”

“If you won’t let me take you to see Jungkook, then at least let me visit you at home.”

You pressed your lips together in silence, choosing to focus on the flowers instead of meeting his gaze. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had this discussion. Ever since that fateful day two years ago, all he wanted to do was make things comfortable for you, but that wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted life to go on as normal. Like you always have.

But how could he do that when the life you were supposed to live was only a small fraction of what it should be?

“Do you remember the first time we met?” You suddenly asked.

He frowned at the change of conversation, slightly frustrated that once again, you were choosing to ignore your safety. Despite his worries, he leaned his head against the tree, able to recall the memory with ease.

“I had been a so young,” he simply said.

A warm breeze drifted into the area, the purple branches swaying as both of you recalled a simpler time.

“And so handsome,” you teased, squeezing his hand.

The indignant sound that left his mouth would have sent his brothers laughing from their homes in the heavens, but it had you giggling. “I am still handsome,” he argued. “In fact, I’m even more handsome now. I’ve aged like fine wine over the centuries.”

Rolling your eyes, you settled your free hand on his leg. There was a twinkle in your gaze that was strong tonight, glowing brightly as you stared at the grass in front of you like it held all the secrets in the world.

“Still so full of yourself,” you joked, relaxing once again upon feeling his other hand settle on top of yours. “And that was how I knew you were a God. So cocky.”

If any other mortal had said that – and it was a couple centuries earlier - they would have been cursed without a second thought. Coming from you, Jin simply chuckled. “Usually you’re praising me for that darling,” he murmured, kissing your temple as you elbowed him.

Blush tinted your cheeks but you ignored his comment. “If you told me back at our first meeting that I’d be spending the rest of eternity being reincarnated, a new body, a new life, to be with you – a God nonetheless – forever…I wouldn’t have believed you.”

Your voice had softened, piquing his interest as he recalled that fateful day himself. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be in the clearing, especially in the middle of the night, but there you were, standing alone and hugging yourself as you stared up at the stars. The plain dress hadn’t done anything to emphasize your figure, but the fire in your eyes was alive, daring him to do the wrong thing.

One gaze was all it took for him to be interested, and with your smart remarks, he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. Every night he went back to that spot hoping to see you again. Sometimes you weren’t there, but more often than not, you waiting for him with a witty remark.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” He asked, resting his head against yours.

Closing your eyes, you hummed in agreement.

Back then you thought it was impossible for the two of you to be together. He was a God, destined to live forever while your existence was numbered by the Fates.

The idea had been silly, but you had been concerned with what would happen after you passed away. A young woman who was in love with Jin, you knew that unless you became pregnant with his child, your legacy was going to die with you since you refused to love another. You wanted something to live and prosper long after you had left this world.

The sapling had caught your attention one day at the market, the idea that it would have bloom purple and grow into a massive tree was what you sold you as you handed over the coins to the seller, eagerly carrying it back to your home where you waited until the stars came out to plant it. You had been digging the hole when Jin arrived, curious as to what you were doing.

“This is my legacy,” you told him, stopping to wipe your brow.

He frowned while smiling, amused that you were concerned with such a simple thing. “A tree?”

“Yes, a tree. But it’ll grew tall, and beautiful, outshining everything in this clearing forever.”

Not wanting to waste time, you continued to dig, only needing to go a little further until it’d be deep enough.

The air was warm that summer, and as you dug, he took the chance to admire you. You weren’t like the Goddesses he knew, who demanded to be pampered and chased after by multiple partners, vying for everyone’s attention but never satisfied when someone specific wasn’t looking their way. Dirt didn’t scare you, and because you lived in a small home by yourself, you did the work that men usually did, thus making your hands rougher and leaving aches in your body from the day’s work.

“Won’t your legacy live on with your children?” He forced himself to ask, his chest aching at the mere thought of you being with another.

Hesitating, you barely glanced at Jin. “I…I don’t plan on getting married,” you said instead.

Deciding that the hole was big enough, you tossed the shovel to the side and got on your knees to remove the cloth wrapping from the base of the tree.

This was news to Jin however. He had always thought that you’d one day marry someone who was your equal. “Why not?”

“I won’t marry someone who I don’t love.” With delicate touches, you carefully undid the twine that held the wrapping together, setting it to the side for later use.

“Do you love someone?”

“Yes…but it’s not possible for us to be together.”

You hadn’t planned to say that, but the words spilled out of your mouth before you were able to stop them. It was too late now.

The wrapping was finally removed, but you didn’t hurry to plant it into the ground. Instead, you kept it in your lap, the dirt staining the cloth of your dress. There was a longing within to tell him the truth, wanting to say that you loved him so much that it hurt when he hugged you goodbye, or how during the day while doing the simplest of tasks, your mind wandered to what it would be like to kiss his plush lips, even delving into fantasies of sharing a bed with him. Of being by his side as more than a friend.

With every daydream, your heart swelled with love only to get beaten when you remembered what you both were. There just was no possible way it could work out.

Your vision blurred and stung as you sniffed, reaching up with the back of your hand to wipe away the tears, but a hand stopped you from doing so. Lifting your head, you saw Jin on his knees in front of you, the sapling in one hand while he caressed your cheek with the other. He quietly wiped away the tears, took your hand, and placed the sapling into the hole. Together, the two of you pushed the dirt back over it, gently patting the mound it made once it was securely planted.

“You know,” Jin softly spoke, lacing his fingers together with yours. “Anything is possible, if you’re willing to take a chance.”

He was closer than you originally thought, your gaze darting down to his lips before looking into his eyes. They were as dark as the night, timeless even. A soft breeze rustled his black hair, his bangs covering his forehead and without realizing it, you were reaching up to brush them out of the way.

As if under a spell, you leaned forward when he did, his lips gently touching yours in a sweet kiss. And then another, and another. He released your hand to cup your face, allowing him to add pressure to the kisses, drawing them out to make each one last.

It was the moment the two of you had been holding yourselves back from, and now that it happened, there was no going back. Jin hadn’t even realized that he was crying himself until your fingers gently touched his face, forcing him to pull back at the wetness on his face. Seeing that you were in a similar state, he brought you into his arms, being mindful of the newly planted tree.

Caught up in your emotions, neither of you saw the silver moonlight outlining each branch and leaf of the sapling, the tears of two lovers mixing together and sinking into the tree itself, going all the way down to the roots to help anchor it to the clearing. Forever.

“I miss those days,” you murmured, resurfacing from the memory.

Jin simply kissed the side of your head, trying to ignore the tightening in his stomach. “They were simpler times.”

You tilted your head back against his shoulder, gazing up the wisteria tree. It had grown so beautifully since the day you planted it, and while no one else remembered who had been the one to do it, the legacy you had so desired back then was fulfilled.

“Jin, are there any wisteria trees where you live?”

He froze, the tightening of emotions traveling to his heart as he recognized the longing in your voice. It was the same one he had heard all those years ago when you brought up being with him always, but wanting a mortal life at the same time. Reincarnation had been the answer to solve both problems.

“Yes,” he answered, licking his lips as his arms tightened just the slightest around your frail body. “This exact one in fact is in my garden. Why do you ask Darling?”

“I’m tired,” you said.

There was no easy way to say it, but it was true. For the first time in all your reincarnations, the body you were given for this life was not going to die of old age like the others had. You were sick. The treatments and medicines made you worse and you ached everywhere. When you weren’t at the hospital you were stuck in your bedroom, your parents always there to help you move about and get you things, hovering by the doorway in-case you needed something else. It was overwhelming and tiring. The only time you felt like yourself was when you managed to sneak out while they slept, taking these stolen hours with Jin to relax and be yourself.

Now that you tired out more easily, you took naps often and each time you closed your eyes, a memory from before replayed itself out. Whether it was from your very first life, or your fortieth, to all the weddings you and Jin had, you got to relive them all. There were just so many. It was truly a gift to be able to live so many lives and remember them, but it wasn’t until now – diagnosed and dying from cancer – that you realized how simpler it all would have been, had you only joined Jin’s side in heaven the first time.

Yes, the two of you had been so young, so in love, but you had also been so wrapped up in finding a solution – him wanting you to be with him forever, and you not wanting to have more than a mortal life – that you had been blind to the consequences.

Until you were able to truly understand your memories and locate the wisteria tree, Jin spent years alone, waiting for you appear once again. The reunions and the years together were always worth it, but he also saw you grow older, watched as strands of hair turned white and grey, and the wrinkles became more defined. He stayed by your side through it all, the good and bad, and he was always the one to suffer when the day came where you wouldn’t open your eyes.

The weight of living so many lives wasn’t a light burden either.

“Darling, I can bring you home –”

You shook your head though, carefully reaching up to remove the scarf that Jin had given you the night after you shaved your hair off. It had been thinning and falling out in clumps, and this way, it was easier to manage. “No Jin, we both know that’s not what I mean.”

He pressed his lips together, feeling his eyes sting at the possibility of what you were implying. “What do you want to do then?”

Heart racing, you turned to face him, unable to keep your own tears at bay upon seeing his face. Jin, your lover, husband, hadn’t age at all since the day you met. He was exactly the same, while you felt like a stranger with the memories of a million different versions of yourself.

“I don’t want to be reborn after this,” you said. “I want to go home, with you to the stars. As grateful as I am for all these lives I’ve lived, it’s exhausting and not worth having, when we could have had one life together this entire time.”

For a split second, Jin was prepared to argue your request, to give multiple reasons for why you shouldn’t let this go, and then the fight was all gone. Gods were always giving. Whether they were gifts, blessings, curses, punishments, they gave and gave, but rarely did they take it back. You were the love of his immortal life. He didn’t want to lose you, and the idea of you not being reborn again was terrifying.

“I can’t take you straight to heaven with me,” he softly explained. “Your soul will go to the Underworld where it’ll be judged. Only then can I try and plead our case, but it won’t be up to me.”

“I know Seokjin,” you said, using his full name for the first time in so long. “Just because I’ve had more than my fair share, doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten our ways.”

He didn’t stop the chuckle that escaped. Only you would reprimand a God. Cupping the side of your face, his smile reappeared when you leaned into his touch, sighing as he ran his thumb across the skin. There had been so many rebirths that he had lost count of which life you were on, and while your physical features were not always the same, the littlest things from your first life were still there. Like the small scar on your chin from when you had been sharpening an arrow. Or the slight curve in the middle of your nose, a result from when he suggested taking a swim in a lake after midnight. How was he supposed to know that you’d slip and land on a rock?

Jin leaned in and kissed your chapped lips, the scarf slipping from your hands as it landed on the blanket underneath you.

“This will be your last mortal life,” he firmly said, pulling back to see the relief in your eyes. The power of his words rippling in the air, the stars dulling as his heart ached. How long have you wanted this but not said a word to him? “After this, your soul will go to the Underworld to be judged by Seonghwa, just like everyone else.”

You gently smiled at him as you watched Jin take the scarf you always wore and loosely tie it around your neck. His fingers brushed against your skin but he remained quiet, the moon light dimming when he felt how cold you were.

“Thank you,” you said.

He shook his head, bringing you to his chest and hugging you. Whether or not releasing you of being reborn hurried up what time frame you had left, he wanted to enjoy this moment. The last thing he wanted to think about was the fateful day to come. All he wanted was to pretend that he wasn’t a God, because instead of healing you like any other would have done, he had taken away the one thing that guaranteed you a future.

All because you asked, and he loved you too much to say no.

Jin held your hand to his lips, refusing to look anywhere else but at you.

It was the moment that he had been dreading, the one you had been looking forward to.

Jungkook had woken Jin up in the middle of the day – something that no one would ever do – and it was only when he mentioned your name that Jin listened to what the sun God had to say. Apparently, your illness had taken a turn for the worse, and the doctors now had morphine in your IV drip.

“It’ll make her comfortable,” Jungkook explained, having followed after Jin to the hospital room that you were staying in.

It had been a few days since then, and Jin had taken to staying by your side as long as he could. The only time he left your side was when he was needed to make the moon rise and descend, but even then, it was a half-hearted effort. Like always when your time came to an end, his emotions bested him, dulling the stars to smudged glass and cloudy nights.

Normally, he’d be able to find hope within his heart at the prospect of you returning to him in your next life, sometimes even making a game out of it to see where you might come from, what language you’d speak, how’d you look, but it was all different now.

Lowering his gaze, he kissed the back of your hand, a small smile appearing at the sight of the silver wedding band on your ring finger. While the two of you hadn’t been able to get married in this life, it had been his one request that you eagerly said yes too, sighing when he had slipped it on for you. He always wore his, having refused to take it off after the first wedding because in his eyes, no matter how many lives you lived or centuries passed by, you had never stopped being his wife.

He had thought that he’d get used to seeing you grow ill and passing away by now, but it never got any easier. Usually it was when you reached your older years, so it was jarring to see you so young but so ill and fragile. The sight of you in pain made him collapse to his knees, begging you to take back your last wish so that you’d be reborn again. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

But you had simply shook your head, even daring a slight smile as you offered your hand for him to take.

The heart rate monitor was slow, consistently beeping in the otherwise silent room. Both your parents had gone for the today, having been convinced by the nurse that they needed to go home and get some sleep even if it was just for a few hours.

Even without Jungkook’s expertise in the area, Jin knew that by the long paces in-between each beat, your heart was slowing down. This was not a battle you were going to fight this time. Although, with a fond smile, he recalled how well you once fought with a sword when you had to defend your home from thieves back in Greece.

Or that time when in Paris, some fool thought that he could run off with your purse when the two of you had been walking along Le Mur des Je t’aimes in Montmartre in Paris at dusk. Not only had you made the French raise an eyebrow at your choice words – spoken perfectly might he add – but you had even made the police nod in approval.

“Oh darling,” Jin whispered, kissing your hand again as his eyes watered up. “You have lived so many beautiful lives. I just wish I had been there more than I was.”

Tears dripped down his cheeks as he bowed his head, sending a silent prayer that your soul would reach the Underworld without any trouble, and another to Seonghwa personally, pleading for him to take care of you until he decided your fate.

When he lifted his head, your hand slumped in his while the glimmer of silver light that had been surrounding your body disappeared. Gently, he placed your hand back on the bed, the nurses rushing in when a single long beep echoed from the heart monitor.

But Jin was gone by then.

It had been weeks since the funeral. Not a word had been heard from Seonghwa about his decision, there hadn’t even been a heads up to let Jin know if your soul arrived to the Underworld or not.

As a result, the night sky had been cloudy. With the exception of when he visited your grace and he made the moon and stars glow brightly just for you, the nights had been dark and dreary, just like how he felt. The other Gods were used to him being emotional after your deaths, but this hit harder for Jin, and the longer he went without knowing where you soul ended up, he was starting to think that he’d never see you again.

He had centuries of memories with you, and as wonderful as they all were, there was nothing better than being able to hold and kiss you all over again.

He hadn’t been back to Earth since then. There was no point, you had been the main reason for all his visits. He had debated on going down to visit your wisteria tree. It was your meeting spot, a sacred place the two of you shared, but it wouldn’t be the same if he were to arrive and not see you there with a smile.

Instead, he had taken to walking around his garden more often than not, isolating himself from the other Gods and choosing to be by himself. The night the two of you had planted the sapling on Earth, in his own personal garden up in heaven, the wisteria sapling appeared even though he hadn’t planted one. Over the years it grew alongside yours, a perfect replica that reminded him of you that he visited often when you were in-between lives.

It was to the wisteria tree that he found himself walking towards, hands crossed behind his back, the moon high in the sky. His mind drifted away, barely even thinking about the duties he had to attend to. There were already plenty of council meetings that he had missed and as lenient as Namjoon was, Jin needed to get his act together soon or there’d be consequences. His brothers knew how much he loved you, they themselves all had their own experiences with their own special human, but he had gotten more time with you than any other.

The time to move on was drawing near.

Gently separating the branches, Jin entered the hideaway that the wisteria tree created, it’s petals and branches acting as a veil from reality for the time being. Perhaps he would stay out here and reminisce on the past, at least until it was time for the moon to descend.

“Hey there handsome, you’re late.”

Jin’s eyes widened as he suddenly looked towards the trunk of the tree, staring at the woman standing there.

Your eyes twinkled brighter than the stars, a subtle silver laurel wreath style crown was placed gently on top of your hair, and you wore the white cloth dress with the silver belt that you had worn on the day you two got married. Your first wedding to be exact.

“What?” You asked, your smile widening as you stepped closer to your husband, unable to help yourself from teasing him a little bit. “Do you usually meet up with another woman here?”

In his chest, he felt his heart warm up and begin to beat again at the sight of you. Not wanting to risk you disappearing from him, Jin hurried to your side and swept you off the ground, your laughter echoing throughout the garden as you hugged him back just as a tightly, both his and your bodies glimmering with a silver outline in the darkness.

“Darling, I’ve missed you,” Jin cried, not wanting to speak anymore to kiss your shoulders and neck. Everywhere and anywhere he could, he kissed before finally reaching your soft lips, not letting you get a single word out as an explanation because to be frank, he didn’t care anymore.

You were by his side once again, and without either of you breaking from the sweet reunion, the stars began to illuminate in the night for the first time in months. The moonlight bathed the world in silver stardust, protecting the humans who walked in the night and granting safe journeys to wherever they went, and a blessing for lovers all around.

Even the Gods themselves were stepping out of their homes, all admiring how beautiful the moon and stars looked tonight.

Jin would no longer have to mourn the loss of you, or only have one life at time with you. Now…now the two of you had an eternity of moonlit nights to be together.

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edwardboyne · 4 years

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🌙 — ALL ABOARD ! The HMS PROMETHEAN welcomes ( EDWARD BOYNE ) to the expedition in their capacity of ( THE PURSER ). They are ( 40 years old & cis male ) and might be painted as ( MATTHEW GOODE ). When you strike up an acquaintance, address them as ( he/him ). Their deeds on land prece their arrival — people say they are ( practical, ambitious, adaptable ) but ( reserved, secretive, distrustful ) when the tide turns. Their purpose aboard the Promethean falls in line with ( running away from yet another stealing-spree & embracing another opportunity for redistributing the wealth ).

III. IN CHARACTER (B)

1. What are three plot points you see for this character in the future?

with so many rich people on board, who seem to be there for the fun of it, Edward’s already trying to come up with ways to capitalize on it. He observes, he listens, maybe he’s enlisted the help of someone who shares his ideas; even if personally, directly stealing valuables from the high society isn’t exactly his style, it’s surely something. If he were to let his hands slip here and there, nobody would suspect a thing. Things could easily go amiss in a place like this, could they not?

after his last voyage, Edward’s come into some money thanks to cashing in false pay tickets, again; it’s a knows trick he utilizes every now and then, when the communities he supports around London are in desperate need for more money. The thing is that this time, someone was onto him — Edward knows that if the Promethean were to set sail, say, a week later, he’d find himself in a lot of trouble. He’s left the mess he’s made back home and it stayed there, before anyone on board had the chance to find out (or maybe that’s what Ned thinks; maybe there is someone on the ship who caught wind of his “””””illegal””””” practices and they’re just waiting for the right time to make use of that information; either condemn his actions or praise him for them)

never in his life had Edward have to worry about his health; he’s sort of got used to the idea that he’s untouchable to the passing of time, that he’s lucky when it comes to avoiding danger or anything that could potentially harm him. But something happens during the expedition; nothing lethal or anywhere close to it, but it severely hinders his, well—everything. Maybe a head injury, that makes him practically useless for a while, with headaches that are worsened by the cold. Edward would try to defy doctor’s orders and push through it like nothing’s wrong, possibly on the route to make everything even worse (unless there would be someone persistent and brave enough to get through to him; make him obey orders, which, let’s face it, Ned’s never been good at, whatever they might concern. He’s a man who forges his own paths, only respecting other’s rules when it’s absolutely needed. He knows his body best, so it’s not needed, obviously)

dead can’t receive letters but Edward still writes them anyway. The long messages to his deceased lover are the only proof of who Edward Boyne really is. It’s not to say that the person he presents himself as to the world is a completely insincere facade, but he does wear layers and layers of lies — it keeps him safe and keeps people at an arm’s length, something that’s vital to his success. The Captain is the only person who’s managed to strip some of those layers down but that’s only because he had a head start. To others he’s gruff, secretive, probably comes off as somewhat resentful (and he is, towards some, his principles dictate detesting anyone too greedy for their own good), rude, even — he wears that as an armor, again, for safety. But then the night falls when he’s locked away in his cabin and he writes; My dearest; that’s when the man with vivid dreams comes out; he softens around the edges and all he wants to do is to make things better, not for himself but for others. He’s hardly a poetic man, since his readings tend to center around politics, philosophy and economics, but his words are full of emotions, memories and ideas he’s always been adamant to talk about to anyone, anyone but the supposed recipient of the letters. Edward keeps them stored in his cabin, hidden in the pages of the books he took with him. Someone strays into his cabin; maybe they were there to speak to him but got impatient and their hands started to wander. They find a few of the letters and that’s the sort of thing you can’t just put back. Edward catches them red-handed and no matter what they might think of him after, that would be a breach of privacy that could ruin him, regardless of their intentions. An altercation could happen; Ned, usually very restrained and composed on the outside, he has to be, would be absolutely livid about someone going through his personals like this and finding the letters, the most personal of all of his belongings, is a crime he can’t let go. He doesn’t let them leave until they reach some sort of understanding, a deal, or maybe it turns into a blackmail situation, maybe Edward knows something undesirable about them, too, and now it’s a good time to utilize it. He trades in secrets, it’s the second most valuable currency in the world they live in.

Despite how suspicious he is of everyone around him, he strikes a liking to someone from the crew; someone who similarly to him came from nothing (though they don’t know that, of course, Edward doesn’t like sharing stories of his origins with anyone), maybe they’re younger and remind him of someone he knew or the person he used to be when he was their age — more ruthless, not as calculated, act first, think later kind of person, that he had to reverse at some point, so he could be smart about what he does; they don’t ask questions at first but the more time they spend around Edward, the more curious they get; they start with vague things, questions that aren’t very personal, those Edward can entertain with an answer, usually only half-true, but interesting enough. But the other is persistent and one day they do ask him about the things he’s been avoiding; where do you come from? who were your parents? how did you end up in the service? are you married? That’s a problem he has to face every single time someone wants to get close to him — will he let them?

2. Please answer the following question in character, either as a dialogue reply or a short scene:

“Why did you decide to venture to the Arctic on this expedition?”

“My dearest,” he writes. He has to pause, unable to figure out what to start with. It hardly matters, but the ritual is so important to him that he cannot let himself do it the wrong way. He distracts himself the second he starts, the fingers of his free hand reaching out to absentmindedly touch the spine of the book in front of him. The pen hovers above the paper for a moment longer before the words finally flow. “I fear I have not been as careful as I thought. You would have thought I’d become a professional at this point, that I would not have to fear about being found out. I do, though. As important as this is to me, helping the unfortunate ones, I can hardly do it when I am imprisoned. I never let greed take over, you know that; even when I do, it’s not greed-driven by my own hunger but by the hunger of all the children that I vowed to feed because I have the means and ways to do it. I let myself slip. I have run away. Hid in plain sight. I had to, if I had stayed, God only knows what would become of my life. I know people have been talking, about how not enough money makes it out of my hands and that it has been a common occurrence. There were whispers about calling me to speak in front of the admiralty and whether that was true or false, I knew that this much attention would only cause more trouble. I was not prepared to sail so soon again but I knew I had no other choice. This is my only chance for everything to return to how it used to be; by the time we come back, I will not be a suspect anymore. I’ll have to sacrifice profiting off this expedition for the sake of appearances but I am sure I will find another way to bring something back. There is so many of your crowd here. You would have hated it. The money they have paid to be here and for what? To look at the ice? Thirty more days and they will get bored, anxious to be home already because the cold is becoming more and more unbearable. The nobles looking for amusement on a discovery service expedition. Tourists in the Arctic. Who would have thought? I am afraid you will not be receiving any flowers from me anytime soon. You will have to forgive me. I will write, though. Always.

Yours, Ned”

— PINTEREST BOARD & PLAYLIST

#( about. )#thqintro #this is a LAZY intro bc im just reposting my app #but it's probs gonna be useful to kickstart sum plotting #especially that im still.......gonna be coming up with things on the fly rip

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hoopdiddies · 5 years

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I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 7)

A/N: This is probably the longest I've written in this series. Again guys, thank you for the support, your comments and likes mean so much! My tag list is always open so feel free to ask. And on a slightly heavy note: the next chapter could be really angsty. Just a heads up right there uwu

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: Angst, slight drinking, slight swearing, (yeah the fluff is still present)

W/C: 5k-ish

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

Edited// I forgot to link the previous parts

Parts: 6 5 4 3 2 1

(Got the pic from Pinterest hhh-)

Storing the luggage bag you've purchased for a fair price in the spare room, you come across a small box of sundries tucked in one corner with cobwebs clinging to the sides. Your eyes light up with curiosity spiking within you, you pick it up and dust the webs off, blowing the particles away from the top. You squat on the floor and open the flaps, discovering small yet familiar items that had been lost in time– one of them being a sepia-toned polaroid of you and Ben posing dramatically with hilarious doodles drawn on your faces. You forgot about this, feeling a little guilty that you had hidden it away in a drafty box without remembering doing anything of the sort. You flip the picture over and spot a date and an unfinished sentence written in faded ink on the bottom left part. This was taken on Homecoming night.

'I'm not going-' it says, clearly discontinued next to the date. Silly to think that the picture somehow represents a puzzle piece torn away from its board.

You were bound to graduate the week after and barely a day after, not see each other for several years due to your career paths and post-college choices.

You pull on the hem of your shirt, clearing the picture of dust and any more impurities, finally fitting it into your back pocket to finally treasure it the way it was always meant to be treasured.

The door clicks as you bring it close, your eyes gluing themselves at the hardwood floor seconds to having self-pity billow over you at how quickly your tears surface in the corner of your eyes from the memory of Ben spinning Rosy around - the exact way he did with you -and kissing her like she's a pouch full of life.

You clamp down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to stain your cheeks with your pooling tears. "Jeez, you just-" you pace back and forth in frustration, balling your fists as you gesticulate lazily, "you just don't get it, Y/N! Ugh, you're so- fuck, just get over it..." Knowing your harsh soliloquy would be getting you nowhere, you snarl strongly at yourself and roughly wipe your tears away with the back of your hand.

"He loves Rosy. F-freaking deal with it!" The reminder takes a hiss from your quivering lips for it to sink in; you have your own place in his life– a place behind the line you'd drawn in the years prior. The friend zone couldn't be any more hollow and cold than it already is.

And a polaroid pic is the only remnant left of how inseparable you and Ben were in the early days.

At the same time you're feeling your heart tear itself apart, Ben pulls out a picture - similar to what you've found - from the inner pocket of his old varsity jacket in the middle of rummaging through his wardrobe. He leaves his room in his pajamas and tosses himself on the couch next to a sleeping Frankie, softly apologizing to the little beagle for disturbing her cat-like nap. As he cuddles Frankie close, he scrutinizes the picture and it's also from Homecoming, but in it both of you are beaming widely with your arms slung around one another– the doodles ever-so-present on your faces. Behind it, the date and the continuation of the trailed-off sentence written at the back of your share of the memory.

'-anywhere at all.'- it ends in Ben's part of the duality. He grins fondly at the long lost picture, feeling twice as guilty for not keeping it safe and...close to his heart, just as he had promised you that night.

- - - - - - - -

In the convenience of Lucy needing some company to shop with for awards season just as she had returned from her get-away with Rami, she drags you along happily, having to pass through you insisting that you stay at home and study but purposefully ending up under her mercy anyway. You couldn't say no to her, she's basically your sparkly, glam counterpart and you're in need of her life-altering sparkles as of now. Especially since you're going to be tagging along with them, mainly as Joe's date cause you know, you're his 'girlfriend' and all.

You're at the mall, in a stylish boutique full of lines of voguish clothing and shoes that could span miles if not compressed together. For once in the hours you've spent scampering around the mall with Lucy to hoard dresses, skin products and make up, you admit that this is the most aesthetically pleasing space in the entire building.

You traipse along a section with black dresses fashioned into different forms, silently praying that what you have with you will amount to at least one of the varying prices.

Lucy's on the opposite side, ogling at the most colorful section in the boutique for a piece to wear. She peers over at you to make sure you've chosen your 'fighter'. A few swishes of the dresses lined up and you do, holding it up high to evaluate the appropriateness.

It's a sleeveless, halter neck satin that's just a few inches above the knee. Utterly backless but it ends right up the small of your back. The fabric is stretchy enough to move around and breathe in as it simultaneously hugs your shape. You love it but gulp as you prepare yourself for the price. Flipping the tag over, you suddenly wish you could let out the biggest, girlish squeal the human race has ever heard with how surprisingly affordable it is.

"Finally picked out yours?" Lucy pokes her head up playfully and you nod, quite speechless but giddy. She makes a grabby hand at your dress to examine it for herself.

Well she's the fashion guru so why not? You hand her the dress and as she trails her eyes from top to bottom, her mouth falls at the simple yet elegant details. "This is perfect! I highly doubt that it's not going to catch every exposed eye present at the event."

Your flush profusely at her comment. "Thanks but I'll be bringing a coat with me."

That triggered her, but of course you're only teasing. "You better effing not." She warns you and you chuckle, taking the dress from her and evenly brushing the skirt.

"I won't, you can sleep soundly tonight."

You assure her of the possibility. As you exit the boutique with a few bags you're not used to holding, Lucy takes out her phone and gasps, her face contorting with a little disbelief. "Uh oh, this might ruin your mood." She hands you the phone and you gape at her confusingly before taking a quick look.

Ben's posted some updates on his wedding preparations, shockingly tagging you, Joe, Gwil and Lucy in one photo. He's pretty busy alright; unable to text or call you for days but miraculously tagging you out of nowhere.

You come to disregard it until you notice one minute but important detail hidden in plain sight in all of his posts– there isn't a single one with him and Rosy together alone. None of such as well on his new ones.

The only post he's had with a close girl is the one with you, which is at the very bottom of his Instagram feed. You won't admit it but it warms your heart a little. Actually, a whole lot despite wondering why there's none of him and his fiancee. You hand Lucy her phone back and tilt your head to one side, suddenly finding the eagerness to go on shopping. "Let's go."

The following week comes as a radial blur contrasted to the slightly moderate one you just woke up from; your manager phoning you up to take the earliest shift you've had in years at the expense of your allotted time to rest, the heavy workload and rush hours in the upcoming hours followed by the slowest progress of filing your travel documents and visa needed for your departure on the 26th. You've got tons of missed calls from your parents and Joe, who's requested for you to pack up early since you'll be leaving for LA with Lucy on the day of the awards but earlier.

Also noting that you still need to double check the costs for flying to LA and back, ruling out the one exclusive for your flight on the 26th.

For mere days you feel as if you could lose your sanity as your life spirals into madness with everything you're required to do– whether or not you're obliged to do it.

But they are effective distractions for that problem you are still very much preoccupied with. That's a matter noteworthy of later discussion. Amidst all the chaos happening, part of you wishes for Ben to reply to your messages or even talk to you in the slightest. You never bothered to call this week since he's tied up but the least he could do is let you know how he's doing, if he's thinking of you once in a thousand passing seconds.

You give up for a day waiting on him and drown yourself in work.

- - - - - - -

Securing your phone between your tilted head and your shoulder as you indulge in your talk with Joe through the line, you crouch and zip your luggage bag close. Your eyes fixating themselves on two, separate luggage bags for two, separate travels.

"Was that all of it?" Joe's disembodied voice asks. You spring up and take your phone between your fingers. "Pretty much. I better have a kick out of something by the time we touchdown tomorrow– it's my first visit to the US." You inform him, leaping into your bed and landing comfortably.

He chortles softly and ensures you. "I know and you can be sure to expect a good par- ow! Bad kitty!" His smooth transition to a yelp amuses you for split second.

"Are you alright? "

"No. I'm finally feline food to my kid." He refers to his pet cat that has taken a small nibble on his finger, in which Joe returns with a light ruffle to its fur. You can't help but giggle heartily at him.

"Anyway, I'm picking you and Lucy up from LAX tomorrow." He gives you that heads up and you bring your hand up to your forehead. "Where will we be staying?"

"I've booked a hotel earlier so you've got nothing to worry about the moment you land." A faint crunch can be heard from your end and you mind to ask Joe about it. "Are you- are you eating?"

To answer your question, he bites down on his food sloppily and guarantees you of what you heard. You smack your lips together as your eyes narrow in bewilderment.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Sometimes you make it easier for me to hit you with a pillow."

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend?" He taunts at you and cackles, his distorted voice bouncing off of the walls of your room. You sigh, defeated by the fact that this charade is still going on. It's silly and immature yet you and Joe somehow managed to stick to the act.

"Speaking of boyfriend though– would he be furious if I told him that I couldn't be there on his wedding day?" Since you're rested and got nothing else to distract you, you pop the question to Joe.

"Ben?"

You hum softly.

"There are two scenarios that we need to consider," on his end, Joe taps his finger on his lips as he thinks of said scenarios, "Best case scenario- he would get discouraged and slightly unmotivated, and obviously sad, but he'd still support you cause that's your dream."

You sit up and twirl the ends of your hair around your finger, swallowing. "And worst case scenario?"

Joe falls silent before exhaling harshly. "You'd crush his soul, heart, everything ranging from physical to spiritual and it would take a toll– and I mean a substantial toll on your friendship."

"Joe, don't make it sound like a prospect! "

"That is, " he adds strongly, "if he finds out that you had meant for him to be oblivious to it." And he's right. But you had a reason. You still do. Even if you do end up telling him and he supports you, you need a great deal of space to move on.

As long as he's committed to Rosy and you're in the sidelines still in love with him, it's just something toxic. You couldn't love anybody they way you do Ben and you feel like you'll never love someone like him ever again. Albeit how clueless he is sometimes and clumsy, you both had survived every storm and wave. So sticking around to witness him give his hand and heart to someone else is torture for you.

"I'm gonna be direct and say-" just as you begin talking, your phone shrills to another caller, cutting you off from Joe.

One look at the screen and your heart begins racing. Speak of the devil. You reserve an explanation for cutting off and answer Ben, clearing your throat. "You're late."

Ben's gruff chuckle welcomes you back. "I know, I'm so sorry. Busiest week I've had and the lady at Starbucks signed my cup like a snail."

"What are you doing tonight that requires coffee?"

"Call me dramatic- or do so, given that I'm an actor- but I just want to stargaze right now." You hear a light rustle coming from his end, like he's seated out on his lawn.

Silently giving him the 'oh really' look, you spread one side of the curtain to let some moon light in. "Ben, you're leaving early tomorrow."

He hums, seemingly enjoying himself. "But that's not an excuse to not enjoy the night." This boy can not get any cornier. You cast your gaze upon the moon, sighing profoundly. "How did the wedding planning go? Good?"

"Hm, yeah. Church wedding, big reception. Whole lot of booze binging planned out. And a killer bachelor party the day after the awards. " He jokes through the line and you tell him off in a playful chide. "Benjamin Jones, you better-"

"I won't. I won't." You sense his gentle smile from your end, checking the time and reluctantly coming to the decision to hit the hay since you'll be leaving early as well. As much as you want to recreate those late night conversations you once had with him, you can't.

"Hey?" You coo somehow.

"Yeah?"

"I gotta sleep. I have to meet Lucy at the airport at 5."

He gives out a throaty grunt as if he's pulling himself up. "Tragic. I'll see you in LA then, love."

Your lips curl up into the gentlest smile with the moonlight blessing it from the window. "You too. Tell yourself and the rest- especially Brian and Roger- that I'm gonna be rooting for you guys to get up on that stage."

"I will. Thanks for the motivation, Y/N. All the words coming from you just mean so much to me. To all of us." And in his voice, you can hear his utmost sincerity and fondness just highlighting his tone.

"Anytime. Now let me sleep, you bloke. "

"Haha, alright. Love you tons, love."

Shifting your eyes to the sky once more, you reply, allowing the words you're about to say to mean more.

"I love you too, Ben. Good night."

- - - - - - -

24th

You had promised Lucy you'd arrive 10 minutes earlier than her and you really didn't hold on to that promise. As soon as you arrive at the airport nearly bathing in sweat and deaf from the multiple rings Lucy has given you, you both take off to the waiting area with your heavy luggage where you spend an hour and a half waiting for your flight to board. Joe has sent two texts telling you that he's still in the middle of having coffee and it's a questionable action since he's 8 hours behind you and is expected to be asleep by now.

You reply with a simple, "See you there" before heeding to the call of your flight number from the speakers.

All the rushing and you haven't had a bite of breakfast yet. An eleven hour flight doesn't sound so bad, as long as you make sure you don't reel everytime you get up to use the bathroom and acquire jet lag the moment you land from a direct flight without any pit stops. The flight is long as you are awake but by the time you fall asleep in between hours, it shortens the duration. The pilot announcing your arrival wakes you and Lucy from the latest nap you've had on the plane. After gathering your luggage and answering a couple of phone calls on you way down the plane, the arrival area is where you spy Joe behind the red tapes, a scarf around his neck and an eager look plastered on his pale skin, just waiting for you and Lucy to step in. His eyes crinkle as he sees you both treading towards him with a handful of luggage. He greets you both with a tight hug and ushers you to his car, assisting with the transport of your things.

He's booked you in the hotel he's staying in to, of course, avoid some minor inconveniences especially since the awards start at 7 pm and you drastically need Lucy to help you prepare. Upon reaching the hotel, he leads the both of you up the second floor and into the hall for your rooms.

Apparently you and Lucy will be sharing which is the great and Joe will be staying in the room right across yours.

After giving yourselves a brief tour of the room, you settle in and unpack your essentials.

"Y/N, bring out your fighter!" Lucy declares with a giggle, pulling the dress she's chosen from her suitcase. It's a purple, off-the-shoulder, crepe satin and black velvet gown that cascades gracefully against the stable air.

Your eyes widen in awe at how it looks against the light. "No need for a match, Luce. You win," you raise your hands up in surrender, "that's- that's catching more eyes. From Rami of course."

"Oh shut it. You'll look smooth in black." She clicks her tongue and smoothens it at the edge of the bed. You whip out yours and hold it up high, wavering a little at how you'll look like in it tonight. How fortunate you were to find 3-inch, black pumps closeted when you were 'panic packing' the night before. You take it out from your suitcase and set it aside before striding towards the blinds, pulling it up and beholding the breathtaking view of Hollywood before you.

Your first visit to the US and you're already headed to the Oscars. This isn't the real life. This is just fantasy.

- - - - - - - -

"We're having a dinner party afterwards, I don't see any reason for two sandwiches before the ceremony." Staring blankly at how Joe's handling waiting for you and Lucy to emerge from your room, Rami purses his lips quizzically– he's come by to pick up his girl as well. The two men look dashingly handsome in their black tuxes and slick hairstyles– their individual charm strong as they highly anticipate for your appearances.

Joe swallows the chunk in his mouth before speaking. "I'm stressed."

"About what?"

He bites down on his last sandwich, dusting his hands off crumbs as he reasons out. "It's the Oscars. Biggest ceremony of the year."

With a shake of his head, Rami opens his mouth to protest but pauses as the creak of the door behind them butts in their conversation. Lucy - exquisite in her cascading satin gown and look dotted in light to moderate make up - emerges with her purse in hand and eyes heady on Rami.

Joe wishes he could loosen some hinges in Rami's jaw since the latter has got his mouth agape at her girlfriend's evening look. To him, she is his ultimate award and he wouldn't have it in any other way.

"Hey, babe." Lucy smiles delicately and kisses Rami's cheek, to which he responds with a breathless, "Luce, you look..." His starstruck silence finishing his compliment for her. Joe hums, agreeing with crossed arms. "I wish I was as pretty as you, Boynton."

"You boys look handsome, too." Lucy giggles softly and Joe begins to wonder. "Where's Y/N?"

"She'll be out in three...two..." As Lucy deliberately pauses her countdown, you come out of the room, head down as you feel a bit hesitant to continue but you regain your confidence and look up timidly– your appearance putting Joe in the same position Rami was just in with Lucy. The dress really agrees to your form, contouring every curve of your body in a semi-sensual way, guaranteeing that you'll be snagging some looks tonight. Your (H/C) hair frames your face intricately with your light make-up emphasizing the color of your eyes and lips. The light brush of air against the skin of your exposed back makes you clutch your purse tighter, deeming it uncomfortable.

Lucy smiles proudly at her work and that is you. "Well, how does she look Joe?"

Joe lets out a hitched exhale, hazel eyes wide as a sinkhole and a slacked jaw struggling to budge. "Like my girlfriend."

"You wish." You can't help but retort playfully and he brings his finger up to his lips, hushing you. Rami compliments you as well and you thank him as the four of you make your way to the elevator– your arm on Joe's and Lucy's on Rami's.

You've taken a limo for the sake of convenience, since Joe and Rami wanted to propose a pre-toast - with the champagne present in the vehicle - to their successes and hard work in the past year. You have faith they'd bring home an Oscar; considering how spectacular their work was portraying the members of Queen. You're also thrilled that you're about to meet Brian and Roger.

The limo parks just across Dolby Theatre and the four of you climb out, making your way arms-in-arms into the place crowded with paparazzi and attendees. You see yourself as a small fish swimming in a sea full of majestic dolphins. This is the big leagues right here and you're not even one bit of a celebrity– at least you feel like you aren't one. After a couple of shoulder brushes with either familiar and unfamiliar faces and escaping the blinding flashes of the cameras, the four of you reunite with Gwilym who has Roger and Brian present by his side. You are introduced to the two Queen members by Joe and you couldn't be any more happier to meet them in person. A couple of moments of interacting with the rest of the crew and cast, Ben joins the 'party' looking sharp and admittedly drop-dead gorgeous in his white tuxedo blazer and slicked back hair with Rosy by his side.

Before he could even reply to the greetings of his friends, he lays his eyes on you and for a while– his pupils dilate and his expression flits faster than he can command it to. He can't believe what or who he is seeing before him amidst all the glam. Letting go of Rosy's hand for a minute, he steps close to you, indescribably captivated. "Y/N...h-hey."

You keep your composure, musing back. "Hey. You look left out, outfit-wise, and a like a million bucks."

It takes him nearly five seconds to reply with the way hes has his eyes transfixed on you. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. Your evening look setting him back to Homecoming night and something inside him just tweaks. You avoid his mindless gaze and break the silence, trying your hardest not to flush. "Ben, please talk. It's just really-"

"You look...beautiful." He breathes out like he had just gotten up from under water.

#queen #borhap #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap imagine #joe mazzello #ben hardy fanfic #imagine #fanfic

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mentallyinwalmart · 5 years

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HI WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

(this is in regards to one of Kerri’s Q&A answers, screenshot below)

I need the ENTIRE Stalking Jack The Ripper fandom on this right the fuck now

What does this mean??? I have four theories, the first one, I believe has a considerable amount of merit to it, whereas the following three are slightly a stretch.

DO NOT READ PAST THE SCREENSHOT IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR ANY OF THE FIRST 3 BOOKS:

for the sake of clarity in this post, AR= Audrey Rose, SJTR= Stalking Jack the Ripper, EFH=Escaping From Houdini and CTD= Capturing the Devil

Okay so my theories are-

•Audrey Rose and Thomas don’t end up married (and I don’t mean in this book, I mean it’s implied they either NEVER get married or one of them dies)

This is the one I most don’t want to believe, because it alludes to either one or both of them dying, or, breaking up for unforeseen reasons at the end. However, this does have a very strong tie back into SJTR, Audrey Rose in the book, and Thomas in the Cresswell POV bonus chapters, as well as being HEAVILY implied by Kerri’s recent tweets and insta posts, and Pinterest board additions that include a LOT of R&J mentions. She also claimed to love Shakespeare (as is evident by the quotes from his plays that start all her novels), and in a recent Q&A said that R&J was her favorite movie. I feel like it is either a red herring to stray us from the truth OR it really is the answer hidden in plain sight. I will discuss my 2 theories about this in more depth below.

1. Audrey Rose lives and Thomas does not-

In SJTR (as well as books 2 and 3) Audrey Rose talks time and time again about not knowing if marriage is for her. She talks about feeling trapped by just the concept of marrying someone who does not see her as equal. Once she meets/becomes attached to Thomas she starts to see it in a new way, ie, that it could be something she would enjoy rather than a prison. However, I believe that were Thomas to die in this investigation, she would once again see it as a prison, this time even worse because it’s haunted by the ghost of her dead love.

2. Thomas lives and Audrey Rose dies OR, AR breaks Thomas’ heart and they break up once and for all-

In the bonus content that is now available in EVERY copy of SJTR that is currently being sold, we get 4 bonus chapters from thomas’ POV. In them, he refers to his true love as science, and claims he does not wish to be married (especially so young). In this instance, I can see it going one of two ways. EITHER, AR dies and Thomas truly becomes an automan, sinking into science to numb his pain, never to love again, OR, AR once again breaks thomas’ trust like she did in EFH, and he cannot forgive her. Feeling like science is his only safe haven anymore, he gets deeper and deeper into it, and AR is never fully able to reach him.

The only difference I believe Kerri will keep from R&J is the suicide. I think if one dies, emotionally, the other may go with them, however since this is YA I am not totally sure she will include suicide, but ya never know.

Also,,, there are very strong parallels between AR and Thomas’ whirl-wind relationship and that of R&J. Whether that was coincidence or not, I suppose we’ll all find out in CTD.

•Uncle Johnathon is the murderer—

Back when he was arrested by Scottland Yard for potentially being the killer, could that be the spoiler, hinting that he is the cruise ship killer they didn’t catch, and potentially, the devil [in the white city]. Feels like a biiiiiig stretch, but idk

•Thomas and Uncle actually are contuing to do disturbing medical tests on the corpses//doing test transplants in an in-ethical way—

Again, feels like a HUGE stretch, but we know Nathaniel made a big deal about that in SJTR (even though it was most likely only done to hide the fact that he was the ripper the whole time)

•Thomas is the murderer—

Like how on the back cover it says “I was the girl who loved the ripper” potentially that was alluding to something like this? This one, I believe to be the biggest stretch. A lot of the fandom has thought about this and broached it as a possibility, however, it feels the most flimsy (in correlation with Kerri’s post)

If you read all this,,, I love you. Please leave your theories in the comments and feel free to slide into my DM’s if you ever want to chat because I LOVE these books with my whole heart and I LIVE for conspiracy theories

#stalking jack the ripper #sjtr #escaping from houdini #sjtr spoilers #Thomas cresswell #Audrey rose wadsworth #Audrey rose cresswell #capturing the devil #Hunting Prince Dracula #hpd spoilers #efh spoilers #sjtr fandom #capturing the devil theories #ctd theories #cressworth #kerri maniscalco #Kerri Maniscalco SJTR

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saintaugustinerp · 5 years

Photo

Congratulations Jess! You have been accepted for the role of The Abettor with the faceclaim Anton Lisin. Please be sure to check out the accepted applicants checklist! Also be sure send us a link to your blog within the next twenty-four hours. Welcome to St. Augustine!

OUT OF CHARACTER

Name/alias: Jess Age (18+): 27 😭 (or I will be, you’re opening the day before my birthday!) Gender/Preferred pronouns: She/Her Timezone: EST

IN CHARACTER

Desired Skeleton: The Abettor Character Name: Elias Jerabek Ballard Age (18+): 19 Gender/Pronouns: Cis Male, He/Him Hometown: Prague, Czech Republic/Brookline, Massachusetts Major: International Studies Desired Faceclaim: Anton Lisin

Character Blurb:

He stands on the platform like an out-of-place shadow—odd because he’s alone, when everyone knows where he belongs, stuck tight to the heels of another. He stands tall, a figure clad in black with a heavy brow and a tight-set mouth cutting through the bright and unforgiving splendor of the mountain backdrop. But it’s only an illusion, nothing more than a prey animal making itself foreboding and big. He’s not proud; everyone knows that he bows, and who to. It’s a pathetic thing, to stand in someone’s shadow, to come when called, to bite and snarl at their command—but if he didn’t, then who would even know his name? Better to belong to another, to be known and feared; than to be alone, invisible and unmoored.

Developed Head Canons:

FAMILY. When they whisper about him, they call him bastard. It isn’t true, or at least it isn’t fair: his mother was married to his father, but his father hadn’t told her that he had married another woman first. And his mother never found out, which Elias thinks might be kinder: she wasted away with cancer when Elias was just thirteen, and when he was sent to live with his father in America, he found he already had a family—one that there was little room for Elias in. One where he was less of a boy and more of a secret, an uncomfortable truth brought to light.

IDENTITY. Loss after loss after loss. He lost his mother. He lost the entire narrative of his life he had believed in up to that point. He lost his country. He lost his father, in a way, too: he’d seen him too little growing up, for he was very important, always traveling, but he’d always been doting when he was around—but he was better at loving Elias from a distance, maybe, better when his lives and his wives were kept separate, and when Elias needed him the most, all that affection was nowhere to be found. And, with all of these things slipping through his too-young fingers, he lost himself. Lacking an identity, he became bitter and snarling. Wanting someone to follow. Wanting someone to tell him who he is.

TEMPER(MENT). He never got used to America. Never learned how to be winsome and sweet, even though he knew he should have, never figured out how to endear himself to his father’s real wife and half-siblings. Instead he’d learned to be quiet: that way he’d never say anything wrong; that way no one could make fun of his accent. But while he didn’t speak much, he did snarl, walking through the halls of his high school or his father’s Massachusetts home with a mulish set to his jaw and hard cast to his shoulders, ready to respond to the simplest slight. He was aimless, and he was angry—or maybe he was just hurt.

ATHLETICS. He found himself on the soccer field, in school in Massachusetts. He got good grades, worked hard at his classes even when it felt like he was starting behind—(who needed multiple years of just American history?)—did it to try and make his father proud. But soccer was something he did just for himself: an outlet, something physical that took him out of his head; a game, something that felt easy when everything else felt too hard. He was an aggressive player, sometimes too aggressive for his posh and polite private school, not to mention the similarly prim schools they played. He was disappointed to find that Augustine didn’t have a team, but he set his mind to transferring his skills to rugby instead. He got laughed off the field during tryouts his first year, but in his second, has finally made the team.

AUGUSTINE. If he were following in the footsteps of his father, a career diplomat and former Ambassador who guest lectures as Harvard in his retirement, he would have set his sights there, or on another American Ivy. But his father already had two children doing just that, and so Elias set his sights elsewhere: on returning to Europe, and to Augustine. He wants to make his father proud, wants to recapture the doting affection his father had lavished upon him in his youth, but he thinks it might be easier to do from a distance. Thinks that the greatest gift he might be able to give him—(and for the rest of his father’s family, which had never come to feel like Elias’)—would be to separate himself from them once again. To carve his own path.

Writing Sample:

(End of the school year, last year)

When Elias was a first year, he was a fool. Wearing that sweater, holding it close like Augustine could be his salvation. How embarrassing, practically asking to be hazed, to be one of the first years plucked from youthful obscurity and, crest over his heart, enticed toward the frigid lake with pretty promises that he was all too eager to believe in. And, more fool he, he had gone.

Now—(on the cusp of his second year, with that night at the lake like a dark veil pulled over his formerly rosy vision)—he wouldn’t be caught dead in it. Nor could he. He knows what’s soaked into those fibres, old blood dark and matted in the knit. A tell-tale heart shoved into the dark depths of his closet, where it has stayed ever since that night. He can’t bear to look at it. Can bear even less the thought of someone finding it. Has thought more than once of asking, of begging, to be told what to do with it—if only he could bring himself to speak of it. But he can’t. It’s his problem alone to solve. And, surely, he could manage that much.

He’d longed for its warmth, once it was gone. Standing in the clearing with his jaw clenched and every muscle tensed, trying not to let his teeth chatter or shivers to wrack his frame, even though it was a losing prospect, even though the gooseflesh was plain to see, what with all of it—(all of him)—on display. He’d folded it neatly, then, placed it with care in a pile with his other shed clothes on top of a rock so that the damp from the snowy ground wouldn’t seep into it.

He’d pulled it back on with less care, hands numbed by more than just the cold. Jaw clenched against something else, too, that might have been a scream or might have just been tears. But he hadn’t been pathetic before, had been willing—before the Good Samaritan intervened, both kind and useless—to wade out into the frozen lake to prove himself tough, to prove himself worthy, to never admit to his fear. Why did he have to interfere?

That spark of anger warms him, as he takes his spot without complaint, shoving his arms underneath the lifeless corpse and heaving it into his arms, unheeding of the lifeless head that shifts with their every stumbling step, knocking into him and marking him in dark red, smeared across that once-proud crest. How senseless, how useless—he’s wading out into the water anyway, and his hastily pulled-on clothes make no difference, the cold of it still stings like thousands of tiny needles driving into his skin.

He hasn’t been back to the lake, not since that night. Had stumbled back to the school with his pants soaked to the knees with icy water, that stained sweater feeling hot like a brand against his chest. He’d ripped everything off and hidden it away. Never looked at it again, tried to let it fade from his memory—(out of sight, out of mind)—like the body swallowed by the lake.

But things buried, in lakes or in closets, don’t always stay that way. The dark water that had swallowed Frederick Wells had spit him back out again, and so there’s no reason to think that anything Elias buried that same night might not meet the same fate. And so there’s only one thing to do: destroy it. He hasn’t been back to the lake, not since that night, but as the year draws to a close and nothing of Frederick Wells left unfound, he can’t imagine a place more private.

It looks different after the spring thaw. His breath doesn’t fog in the air, his feet sink slightly not in hard-packed snow but in ground made soft by snowmelt. Alive, despite what happened there in January. It still fills him with some unnamed emotion—like a memory of the cold of that night, the terror, the guilt that had only crept in after.

He finds a section of brush that’s dry enough for the sweater to catch when he sets it alight. Watches it burn, leaves nothing but ashes behind. Back in his room, his bags are packed, ready for a summer in Massachusetts that will be both a welcomed reprieve and interminable.

He doesn’t linger.

Other: Pinterest board [here]

#abettor #rp #rpg #roleplay #accepted

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allthingsdarkanddirty · 2 years

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★★ 𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗔𝗠𝗔𝗭𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗡𝗘𝗪𝗦?! ★★

The Cover Reveal for The Hellbent Series by Author Penelope Douglas is HERE!

Book One, Falls Boys is coming March 21, 2022!

PREORDER ↳ https://books2read.com/u/3nEzZ5?redirect=off

PAPERBACK ↳ Live on release day!

AUDIOBOOK ↳ Coming later in 2022!

WATCH THE SERIES TRAILER HERE ↳ https://bit.ly/1OrwFot

ADD THE HELLBENT SERIES TO GOODREADS ↳

https://www.goodreads.com/series/227478-hellbent

ADD FALLS BOYS TO GOODREADS ↳

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/37906154-falls-boys

⥦ BOOK/SERIES INFO ⥦

Series: Hellbent Series

Title: Falls Boys, Book One

Author: Penelope Douglas

Genre: New Adult Romance

Cover Info: Hang Le

Release Date: March 21, 2022

⥦ ABOUT THE BOOK ⥦

𝘍𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘗𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘋𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘦𝘸 𝘈𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘣𝘦𝘯𝘵! 𝘈 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯-𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘈𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴. 𝘉𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘩 21, 2022!

𝐀𝐑𝐎

Hawken Trent. So polite. So sweet. Such an upstanding young man.

A virgin, too, I hear. He never gets naughty with a girl. Probably because Jesus told him not to.

And now here he is, trying to be the hero by protecting another girl from me.

He calls me a bully. Irrational. Unreasonable. A criminal. He can call me anything he wants, I’ve heard worse.

And he can try to stand between me and my money, but he’s never had to fight for food. That rich, clean, school boy doesn’t have what it takes.

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐄

I surprised her. You should’ve seen her face.

Just because I don’t have a record, honey, doesn’t mean I’m clean. It just means I’m better at not getting caught.

That is until I realize I might’ve actually gone too far this time.

She’s there. I’m there. The scene of the crime.

It’s dark. The police show up.

We have no choice. We run. Down High Street, into Quinn’s bake shop, and I pull her through the entrance to the old speakeasy that everyone forgot was here decades ago.

The door locks, the cops circle the building, never knowing we’re right here, and I’m hidden in plain sight, indefinitely, with someone who's awful.

Mean. Rough. Dirty.

A thief. A delinquent.

Until one night, lost in all of these rooms together, I don’t see any of those things anymore.

She’s smart. Daring. Soft.

Hot...

Everything’s changing. It’s this place. It does something to people.

We have a silly urban legend in Shelburne Falls about mirrors. They’re a gateway. Don’t lean back into them.

But we came through front first.

I don’t care what the county records say. This was never a speakeasy.

It’s Carnival Tower.

*𝙁𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙎 𝘽𝙊𝙔𝙎 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚, 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙖𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 18+. 𝙄𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙨𝙝 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪��𝙜𝙚, 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨. 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙁𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙥𝙛𝙪𝙡, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙧𝙮.

#HellBentSeriesCoverReveal #PenelopeDouglas #HellBentSeries #FallsBoys #NewAdult #NewSeries #SpinOff #ComingSoon #TheNextStepPR

☆☆☆☆

Excited about the series?! Check Out Penelope’s Pinterest Board & Spotify Playlist!

*please note: these are both still works in progress*

PINTEREST BOARD ☆

https://bit.ly/3E1WyMF

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST ☆

https://spoti.fi/30DCDVU

☆☆☆☆

Hosted by @TheNextStepPR

Never miss a promotion with TNS again → https://www.thenextsteppr.com/work-with-us

0 notes

arplis · 4 years

Text

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Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/modern-shoe-door-hanger

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fmpgabby · 5 years

Text

Coming up with my Final Idea

My project went through a lot of variations in the first few weeks before I settles on a final idea.

Inital Ideas & Thoughts-

Before I really knew what this project was about, I knew that I wanted to make something due my love of cosplay and fantasy armour. I also knew that I really wanted to make a set of wings, as it’s something i’d never done before and would give me a chance to push myself.

I knew that I would have to design the costume I made - thus I decided to also venture into character design & concept art, as this was also something I was really interested in earlier in the year.

Most cosplay armour i’d previously seen was from World Of Warcraft, so this was my primary inspiration from this stage - as well as the design of typical medieval armour. I started designing some armour ideas for fun.

First Ideas - using the Titles

This idea began to evolve as we officially started the project and had to consider the titles we were given as a starting point.

I picked the following titles and made some notes relating to them, trying to think of a possible narrative that could work:

Rose Tinted Spectacles

To have a certain view on something – i.e. you can only see the good things or the bad things. Having something that could allow you to access another view of a world - for example Spiderwick.

Anything involving separation between two worlds – i.e. like the real world and a fantasy one - or hell and the real world. So like something from another world – could be something underwater.

Virus – something infected by something else – so like maybe the character has been infected by something from another world so the armour is like covered in moss or plants/decay.

Things being hidden from plain sight - is the main character hiding a secret?

Having a character travel to a place and become infected by it.

Behind Closed Doors

Secrecy – something people aren’t meant to know about – maybe the main character has come from another world and is being kept hidden. Maybe the wings are like the result of an illegal experiment.

Crimes, undercover police, illegal actions etc.

Having an assassin style character - someone who has two jobs

Crossover

Literally crossing over to another world – so the character’s come from another universe etc. Heaven and hell – dreams/nightmares – day/night – different time periods.

I guess mixing two themes together - in her armour design?

Having a character that unites two worlds - similar to Aquaman – has both worlds in their design.

Host

Having a possessed character or something like venom – transforming character

E=MC2

Having a sci-fi/ inspired futuristic character

Aliens and characters from another world

Science experiments, linked to Behind Closed Doors - such as Maximum Ride

After considering each of these ideas, I really liked the concept of an assassin character, so I chose Behind Closed Doors as my initial starting point.

Having now decided that this character I wanted to create the costume for would be an assassin, I could work on a few other designs that would actually incorporate this theme.

Idea 1

My first proper idea was to have this concept set in a fantasy world. My character would be part of a royal guard who works to defend the king. However, at the same time she works as an assassin. No one one knows that she is the same person. She has a reputation for being able to take out 100% of people she’s asked to kill. One day she received a request to kill the king himself - while at the same time being one of the people trusted to protect him.

I really liked this idea at the time (and would perhaps like to expand it in the future) but it eventually fell short as I realised that I wanted to go more for a science fiction theme - similar to the designs in Marvel and Overwatch.

This inital idea is why several of my design sheets turned out to be fantasy based (rather than science fantasy as I am now doing) as shown below:

Idea 2

When making the pinterest boards (as well as seeing other people’s work and ideas) I was inspired by all of the science fiction designs. Because of this, I thought it would be fun to try and design a more futuristic costume for the character to see if would look good.

I designed this (right), inspired by the designs from this pinterest board which I had created.

The left design was my original fantasy armour concept. The middle design was an outcome which I created by combining the two. I took my favourite aspects from both and kept the colour palette (which was my favourite out of all the initial designs).

This was the result below. Ever since I combined both science fiction and fantasy I knew that I wanted to continue with this theme for the rest of my project.

Idea 3

I came up with this next idea after struggling to really think of a narrative for the science fantasy character. This concept was created based on my GCSE Media studies project - a show about Ancient Egypt. Along with Egyptian mythology, I was also really interested in conspiracy theories, aliens and government secrets - these all combined really well with the E=MC2 starting point.

Still liking the science fantasy concept, I began to think of an alternate reality of earth in which Ancient Egypt and its events happened in the future when everything was futuristic and technologically advanced - but also still had the egyptian gods present. These gods I thought could possibly actually be aliens (which would explain their armour design) in this world - much like Stargate. The idea would be that Egypt would be like Wakanda - completely hidden from outsiders and actually extremely advanced despite everyone’s belief. My character I planned to have based on a cat - as they were highly worshipped (and the bird/jackal appearances were already claimed by the two gods) and known for being very silent and sneaky, perfect for an assassin.

My character would be an assassin who would venture outside of Egypt and reclaim lost artefacts that have been taken.

This lead to this armour design (right) which was a redesign of the previous (left) with a more prominent aesthetic - I wanted an eye, cat and wing motif as these were all common symbols in Egyptian Mythology.

This idea was invented in a mere few days and was really more of an impulse concept - I should have developed my other ideas further before rushing into this one as it was also quickly off the table for several reasons.

For one, people that i’d asked didn’t really think that the black & gold armour was very ‘Egyptian’ looking. I also couldn’t really find a plausible reason for the character to have wings. But the major turning point was when I discovered all the research I’d have to do to back up this idea - into Egyptian films and actual factual information about the country - which honestly didn’t really interest me at all - I just liked the concept of the animal themed gods and alien conspiracies.

Idea 4

I remember shortly after coming up with the Egypt concept that I was sitting in a room surrounded by people all working on their science-fiction stories. I felt like i’d made a serious mistake in choosing it for such a huge project when it wasn’t something I was insanely passionate about. I had to sit down and consider if, three/four weeks into the project, if it would actually be worth changing my idea again. It was actually looking at my favourite artist’s work that fully convinced me to revert back to the science fiction/fantasy theme I wanted to do previously. Simon Stalenhag’s dystopian universe and environment paintings full of giant machines made me realise that this was really the sort of thing I was interested in.

I still had my main idea in mind: to create a costume with wings. But now I had to try and incorporate a typically fantasy character into a futuristic science fiction universe.

I still wanted my character to be somewhat secretive, with not everything known about her - for example an assassin built by the government as an experiment with actual wings.

Another reason for this decision change was because I didn’t want to have to ground my work into reality - with Egypt I would have to stick to realistic conventions and history whereas with sic-fi, anything was possible and would give me a lot more freedom to imagine where technology could possibly take us in the future.

I was originally going to have this story set in Egypt as a homage to my previous idea. I also wanted to have a large company who pretty much ruled the entire world - something my character could fight against and overthrow. I wanted the company to be ruled by an AI, and I really liked the concept of a future where everything you do is watched, recorded, etc. As it was set in Egypt, I wanted this AI to be called Anubis after the god. The company was known as Anubis Robotics for a while.

The company would offer people a way to live forever inside a machine - having a second chance at life even after death. But having everyone living as a machine would also make them controllable by the corporation- making them able to achieve whatever they want, including world domination.

Sakura (the protagonist) would be an assassin who wants to overthrow this company. But the point was made that she would have no reason to care as it was not involving her in any way. For this reason I decided to scrap the idea of her being a random assassin and instead, she became the scientist who invented the technology that the company uses - a benevolent girl who just wants to help people who have lost their bodies live again. Having the company turn on her and use it as a world domination and money making scheme was a lot more plausible of a reason for her to take them down.

As this idea grew, the world i’d created started to drift away from Egypt little by little - and since I wanted the company to be world dominating (not just an Egyptian company) I thought it would be better to name it after something else. I wouldn’t really be able to explain the name ‘Anubis’ anymore, but I was still really attached to it so I picked something similar sounding - Atlas.

It is interesting to note that Atlas’ design and the company’s logo was still created with Anubis in mind - hence the pointed ‘jackal ears’ he has on his head and the dog-headed logo itself.

The only thing missing was an explanation as to why the main character had wings.

This was when my story ended up becoming an alternate version of earth - a new world in itself. Since I wanted to focus on both science fiction and fantasy, I incorporated a magical energy into the world which is shared between all living creatures - thus connecting them to each other. As the magical energy transfers between each creature and returns to the earth, it is possible for it to transfer DNA between organisms - creating mutations from other species resulting in fantasy races. This allowed me to instantly have mermaids, dragons, angels etc while still maintaining the science fiction aesthetic. This magical energy was then named as Mana - one of my inspirations behind the logic of the energy was based on Annihilation’s lore with DNA refraction (which sounded ridiculous to me and everyone else watching but was still believable enough for the suspension of disbelief.).

While I started out wanting to create just a winged character with a backstory and a suit of armour, it eventually turned into wanting to create an entire narrative and alternate future which I named Windfall.

The name ‘Windfall’ is the name of the planet that is alternate Earth.

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katrinaxparkinson-blog · 7 years

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OUT OF CHARACTER

♔ INTRODUCTION Yo yo, it’s Taylor! 18; female; cst

♔ HOW ARE YOU? I’m watching Shameless and eating Chinese food, I’m great!

♔ TELL US SOMETHING ABOUT YOURSELF: My favorite movie is Ten Things I Hate About You - I know all the words by memory.

♔ ANYTHING ELSE? I’m so very nervous about this. I hope you like her!

IN CHARACTER

♔ DESIRED CHARACTER

Katrina Elizabet Parkinson - the (disowned) sister to the someday father of Pansy Parkinson. Aged 24, Pureblood (obviously), and alum of the infamous Slytherin House.

♔ FACE CLAIM Crystal Reed. Emmy Rossum, or Marie Avgeropolous, in that order.

♔ WHAT SIDE OF THE WAR ARE THEY ON? Order of the Phoenix, and Aversio. The Order was a generous offering by Dumbledore, the night she appeared on his doorstep frightful of what would happen next. And while she remains very grateful for his good faith and kindness towards her, if anything, she tends to agree more with Aversio and the ways in which they act rather than say.

♔ AESTHETIC ♠ Wind rushing in your ears ♠ dark lipstick ♠ moonlight ♠ palettes of paint ♠ broken glass ♠ sharp knives ♠ fresh flowers ♠ steady rain ♠ crisp sheets ♠ clear lakes ♠

♔ POSITIVE TRAITS Give four- ✓ Headstrong ✓ Benevolent ✓ Outspoken ✓ Driven by morals

♔ NEGATIVE TRAITS Give four- ✕ Idealistic ✕ Unsure of self ✕ Abrasive ✕ Tends to be hard on herself

♔ CHARACTER DESCRIPTION In a society bred by ideologies and perfection, Katrina was always the odd one out. A woman raised as if a queen, prepared for a lifetime of tradition, she always felt something was missing. While peers were bred to believe purity meant better, Katrina Parkinson found herself asking a dangerous question: who cares? A true snake, hiding in plain sight was a second nature…until it wasn’t. With a war raging and familial tensions rising Katrina was made to choose. Now all that stands in her way is her own mind.

♔ REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER I wanted to explore a character of true moral conflict - not somebody swayed by love, as Andromeda was, nor by duty like Bellatrix. A Pureblood of such respectable stature and with such high expectations that it would be nearly suffocating to do anything but agree with the ideals thrown into the faces of the Sacred from the moment they are born.

Katrina was born one year, month, week, and day (to the exact second), after her elder brother. From the moment she was born, there was a silver spoon in her mouth, praise given at every success and brutal punishment at every failure. From the mere moment she was capable of understanding speech and the implications that came with such, Madam Parkinson - because certainly, her father would have no say in such things when there were more important causes to attend to - began teaching her the ways of being a proper Pureblooded lady.

It all began on one of their first lessons involving blood purity. Her mother, Aurelia, was in the middle of her lecture on how lucky and better they were for simply being in a bloodline that expanded in magic for generation upon generation, all the way to the beginning. In that moment, a very dangerous question was posed, something which changed the course of Katrina’s life: “What does it matter? It’s only blood.”

As you can imagine, such a question resulted in a slammed door, and…well. Not a very fond disciplinary action. Katrina learned fairly quickly after that, that speaking her mind was a dangerous thing to do and as a child, she couldn’t risk the consequences. So, as a result she fell into the role of the perfectly groomed and behaved pureblood daughter everyone expected her to. And this was easy enough to do, at least, for awhile. While listening to the ridicule and bias that existed within not only the walls of Parkinson manor but Hogwarts castle was enough to cause her severe emotional turmoil, she persevered. Just because she listened, did not mean that she had to agree - and not once did she ever participate in such conversations. Not that she was expected to – a woman in such narrow minded society, silence was the way of things.

It was upon leaving Hogwarts that the reality of it all truly hit. With so many joining the ever growing forces of the Death Eaters, and comments regarding her marriage becoming a large topic of conversation even at home, it became devastatingly clear that something had to be done. In the dead of night, with nothing but her wand in hand and an unpleasantly painful feeling settling deep within her stomach, Katrina ran away.

She appeared at Hogwarts, disheveled night robes wrapped around her, desperately seeking Dumbledore. It was not until he asked what he could assist her with that Katrina realized, she had no idea what she was doing. In an emotionally driven panic, the truth of it all came pouring out of her, after so many years being forced down in the name of remaining a dutiful daughter. Albus waited patiently until her panicked state had lessened, helping her find her footing and a safe place to remain.

In the seven years that have now come to pass since Katrina ran away, she has done everything in her power to avoid run ins with the Parkinson family, or truly - anyone she used to know for that matter. She is her own person, fighting the fight she believes in, but still…often times, she finds herself questioning what may have happened if only she’d been stronger, not realizing how strong she was.

♔ PREFERRED SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS Anything in which there is chemistry will have me on board pretty quick.

♔ CREATE ONE OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER: Pinterest Board Aesthetic 1 Aesthetic 2

House of Memories - Panic at the Disco We built this house on memories Take my picture now, shake it til you see it And when your fantasies, become your legacy Promise me a place in your house of memories.

Fences - Paramore You’re always on display For everyone to watch You can’t turn back Because this road is all you’ll Ever have

Paralyzed - NF ( primarily about the days leading to/after she ran away ) Where’s the person that I know? They must have left, they must have left With all my faith If life is pain then I buried mine, A long time ago but it’s still alive I don’t feel nothing, I wonder why

… I’m in a box, but I’m the one that locked me in Suffocating and running out of oxygen

I’ll be Good - Jaymes Young I never meant to start a fire I never meant to make you bleed I’ll be a better man today

So Cold - Ben Cocks It’s so quiet here, And I feel so cold This house no longer Feels like home

Franklin - Paramore So we stand here now, And no one knows us at all I won’t get used to this I won’t get used to being gone

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it: “Something that could truly control emotions. Merlin only knows how often such would come in handy for me.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you: “Why in the name of Salazar Slytherin himself would I ever wish to venture into the Forbidden Forest at all, let alone at night? Though I suppose if I had to, I would take Andromeda Tonks with me. She’s much braver a woman than I, by any case. As for an object, a broom, maybe? Anything to get off the ground and away from those bloody spiders.”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?“ The sort in which there is something to lose. Then again, I’ve already had to make that decision.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you? “That I stand with the Death Eaters and that bloody forsaken cause for purity, or whatever nonsense it is they’re going with these days. I wasn’t capable of it as a child, I won’t stand to be thought capable now.”

WRITING SAMPLE

Dim candlelight illuminated the vast bedroom, casting shadow upon the deep emerald drapery. What time was it? It was almost impossible to tell, the large grandfather clock ticking ominously in the background, hidden in the shadows of the vast darkness surrounding, encroaching across the walls.

Anxious footfalls landed quietly against the refurbished floors, chilly skin against frigid wood. Even without knowing the time, she knew that hours had to have come to pass since her mother and father had retired for the night, to their respective bedrooms and studies where they would not be expected to interact with one another - not that they interacted much in the safety of the Parkinson home as it was.Katrina’s mind was racing. It seemed that no matter how desperately she attempted to silence the thoughts rushing so rapidly through her mind. They seemed to circle each other in such a way that they were nearly racing, conflicting thoughts battling in an all-consuming war that left a dreadful throbbing behind her eye.It had been plaguing her mind for weeks - nay, years - now.

The indescribably painful and conflicting thought of what would come once taking leave of Hogwarts. Family, duty, honor…it was a thing to be coveted and protected, no matter the cost. Such a belief was one which had been forced down her throat as if a horrid vegetable in childhood. A horrid thing, one with no purpose, not true meaning other than to declare superiority.She had tried. Oh Merlin had she tried to grasp hold of the belief, to tether it to her heart and believe in it, without a flicker doubt dampening her mind. Certainly living as she had been would have been a thing of simplicity if it could only happen so painless a way. Childhood would not have been wasted, family life not a thing to crave separation from.Yet her soul refused such. Ten years had been spent playing a part, desperately hoping to miraculously change her views. If only she could truly believe it, then maybe she would no longer flinch like a misbehaving dog every time chocolate hues landed upon either Madam or Master Parkinson. Hells even her brother seemed to see through the facade, moreso than the others, in a more dangerous of ways.Ruby lips encircled her thumb, teeth soon finding a way to wrap around the nail, chewing anxiously. It was a disgusting habit, one which had plagued Katrina Elizabet Parkinson from the moment she could think for herself. She had become better at controlling it, certainly; with more in depth magical training, there were ways to conceal the damage, to hide the bloody, bright nail beds and uprooted skin which should have so elegantly surrounded cuticles.

Emotional turmoil raged like a storm, dark vicious clouds which rose and fell at such a rapid pace inside her brain that it felt as if at any moment, her frame could keel over and nauseate horribly. Dinner was an extravagant celebration of finishing Hogwarts, and yet barely touched. Though in that moment, the idea of pretending forever, it very much seemed as if the entirety of what the elves had prepared would erupt from her stomach if given the chance.`And that was when she decided, on a whim (or perhaps, not a whim at all, but the true reality of self finally decided it would no longer be silenced.) that she was finished. Heart pounding, the rhythmic and terrified beating echoing through her ears, feet bare, wrapped in nothing but thin ivory night robes, Katrina reached for the elegant dresser. Wand perched atop a dark cedar dresser, her fingers wrapped securely around it. Shutting her eyes, she concentrated perfectly well on a destination that she never, not even once, imagined returning to.And then, when her eyes opened, there stood the ebony gates, bright invitingly lit windows of Hogwarts castle glistening.

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