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kuroos-moon · 3 years

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Captains and Strong Independent S/o’s

☁︎︎ request: Oikawa, Kuroo and either Bokuto or Ushijima (I cant choose!) reacting to a (fem or g/n) reader who does some type of martial art and they’re kinda tough/strong and (maybe they’re the team manager and they don’t take no shit) and the captains kinda crush on them for it? (I like to imagine Oikawa having a tough gf who stops Iwa from being mean to him and jokingly threatens Iwa that if he wants to hurt Tohru he has to go through her

☁︎︎ pairing: oikawa x reader, kuroo x reader, ushijima x reader

☁︎︎ warning/s: swearing, felt a bit of angst while writing for ushijima’s idk why tho it might just be my imagination :>

☁︎︎ a/n: also dont know if it’s obvious but i kinda got carried away with ushijima’s

Oikawa Tohru

• is a smug little shit every time you’re with him or in the same room at least

• like,, he could piss Iwa-chan off to death and he won’t get hurt for it? now this is what he calls power

• sincerely loves and adores you, but at first, he kinda got sad that you’re so self-sufficient, you practically don’t need him

• but he’s now long accepted that you’re just so you… and in your relationship, it’s you who does the protecting and looking out by a whole lot (ofc it doesn’t mean he loves you less)

• that’s why he gets so so soft when he gets his turn in being the person who’s leaned on

• as their manager, he loves how you get things done so effectively, even Kyotani bows down to you, as he should—he always says in his head, smiling as he looks at the feral boy getting flustered around you

• he listens to you all the time and we all know Tohru backing down is so rare

“Oy, you’re overdoing it, let’s go.”

“Head home without me, Iwa-chan,” he mutters mindlessly as he screws up another serve, a scowl on his face as he bends down to get another ball; but he freezes at an instant upon Iwaizumi’s words—no, Iwaizumi’s threat.

“Suit yourself, I’ll call y/n.”

Oikawa has never changed stance so quickly in his life, cleaning up the gym as he sends smiles to his best friend’s way every five seconds, hoping he won’t tell on him on his cute but scary girl who could easily kick him unconscious.

• he uses your name to threaten anyone who wants to cross him and they will back down immediately

• also likes to show off because he knows you treasure him so much; he likes to be babied by you especially in front of others

“y/n-chan c’mere,” he softly says, whining a bit. The rest of his team look at the both of you in astonishment as you take the captain in your arms, Tohru’s cheek on your shoulder, looking back at the bewildered look on his teammate’s faces while you sit side by side on the bench.

They could never get used to someone as tough as you having such the softest spot for Shittykawa… like how could you even stand him?

“Really tired,” he mumbles, a small smile on his lips when you run your fingers through his hair. “I know, you were great as always, let’s head home so you could rest.”

“Y/n-chan, today, Iwa-chan hit my head when you were out to get water. It really hurt,” he says, still in your embrace as he smirks at his teammates.

Their mouths fall open, Iwaizumi’s eye twitching in irritation for his shitty best friend.

“And Maki-chan…” Hanamaki grits his teeth, looking at him pleadingly in panic as his mind runs through everything he did today, wondering what he could’ve done to your beloved. “He ate my milk bread; I was really hungry.”

Yup, Maki and Iwaizumi knew there was hell to pay, gulping in unison when you pull away from your boyfriend and narrow your eyes at them.

“Iwa-chan. I thought we agreed you weren’t hitting Tohru again.”

A chill runs down his spine, Tohru simply looks at you with pride, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around your waist before you get the chance to throw hands at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo Tetsuro

• loves loves LOVES your remarks, your attitude, the way you take no crap from anyone, like “ah, he’s scared shitless, that’s my girl”

• dw, you’re not a thug or anything, but men who force their feelings on you will see heaven’s gates early

• and kuroo’s so pleased about it. sure, he’d love to get the chance to act all cool and brooding and possessive in front of other suitors but what’s more fun is watching their dejected faces as you say—

• “how many times do I have to turn you down? I have my tetsuro, now back the fuck off or I’ll break your nose.”

• you had no idea he was just outside your classroom waiting for you, arms crossed and a cocky grin stretching his lips when you lock eyes with him

• “chibi-chan!” he calls off cheerily, and you bet he’ll tease you about it til death do you part

• “don’t just stand there, give your tetsuro a hug!”

• laughs about how your friendly banters with yamamoto always end up with you winning the argument

• you rub off as mean bc you won’t take any disrespect, even a little—and that’s great

• those are one of the things he loves about you

• but he’s always worried you might get hurt or hated for it, though he knows you are very much capable of beating anyone up even kuroo himself

• so he’s always holding you back, and I can’t stress this enough, but this man knows you could fend for yourself and he is so proud you’re his partner

• he just wants to make certain that no one’ll hurt you, okay kitten?

• your conversations often go like this:

“I’ll beat up whoever tries to lay a hand on me.”

“don’t say such reckless things, you’re not superman.”

“uhuh, geez, I’ll be fine, I don’t need you to walk me home.”

“well news flash, your tetsuro, needs his y/n to walk him ho—ow,” he mutters when you slap his chest.

“go home with kenma.”

“I don’t want kenma,” he scowls, already irked that this is turning into an argument.

“too bad,” you deadpan.

“ugh,” he groans, “imagine a girlfriend who actually listens to you, just imagine.”

• he is the one and only person you’ll gladly accept lectures from, bc his lectures are always reasonable and for your own good

after checking and verifying that you were completely okay, you knew he was about to go down to business.

“you got into a fight? What are you? a thug?” he crosses his arms. You were both inside the gym along with the rest of his teammates who looked like they were far too preoccupied to listen. They were all clearly listening in though, except Kenma of course.

watching your figures from a few feet away, it was obvious that he was scolding you, and Lev already had a ridiculous visualization of you hitting Kuroo. Everyone was worried you’ll fight him, or maybe even hit him, well, everyone except Kenma, of course.

The setter knew that you would never ever lay a hand on kuroo as if the 6’1 captain was fragile. He also knew that you loved and respected kuroo too much to actually get agitated just because he was scolding you, you aren’t an unreasonable person. Lastly, he knew that kuroo would be going soft on you in five minutes tops, his best friend is hopeless like that.

Kenma was right, he always is. Your back is glued to the wall behind you, Kuroo’s hand beside your head, his face extremely close to yours that you’re left flustered which is rare.

After you were rambling on about how you had to put that girl in her place, going off about how it made you so mad and he should cut you some slack, he knew just how to shut you up. And it worked. You’re speechless.

“what was that again, hm? go on, you surely had a lot to say,” he mutters, acting all tough as if he wasn’t dying to just kiss you now. when you don’t respond and stare at him and his lips instead, he already gives in. yes, just like that. “you were wrong to do that, okay?” he breathes, the worry from earlier on making its way out through his voice.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Locking lips with you, you pull him closer to yourself, and kuroo had purposely decided to kabedon you on this wall since his broad back would be shielding the two of you from his teammates’ line of sight.

After pulling away, he pats your head, licking his lips. “I forgive you, I’m not mad anymore.” You look away in embarrassment, realizing how petty you must’ve seemed to him. He sighs before hugging you, chin atop your head.

“Make this the last time, okay? I swear you’re shortening my lifespan having me worried all the time.”

You hug him tighter as a response, kuroo letting out a breath of contentment. Regardless of how tough you are outside; you are and always will be his soft little kitten and it was his greatest honor that you allow him to take care of you like this.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

• is probably a little too used to the idea of his most treasured girlfriend being extremely capable and self-sufficient

• his teammates would always look at him like ‘why are you not stepping in,’ every time you’re in a tough spot i.e. having an argument with someone or having a too-touchy suitor

• then they’d be like “oh, that’s why,” after you flung the despicable creature out to space

• he thinks so highly of you, not only are you physically strong, you’re even tougher on the inside too

• this is kinda a given but I’ll say it anyway—he can be unintentionally insensitive (well your relationship is kinda new)

• example no 1:

you were arguing with goshiki and while he would normally like to ignore you and let you have your way; he was getting annoyed bc the argument was far too petty.

“I’m gonna surpass him!”

“and I’m telling you that you ca-

your mouth is clamped with a big hand, and it took you only a second to realize it was Wakatoshi because only he would have the nerve to lay a hand on you like this. he still doesn’t say anything, dragging you with him in an empty hallway for privacy.

finally after you stopped walking, he turns to you and looks at you expectantly. “what was that for? Did you even wash your hand,” you mutter, slightly annoyed.

“I haven’t touched the ball yet, don’t worry,” he lowly says, making you sulk because he totally missed your point. “still, you didn’t have to make me shut up by clamping your hand against my mouth.” He’s too… not gentle with you sometimes.

“you were going to say something you shouldn’t to goshiki.”

“he said something he shouldn’t have.”

he only narrows his eyes at you and you do the same, anyone from your class would’ve been scared at the sight. You were both known as the cutest yet intimidatingly scary couple.

• you were in the early stages of dating and though you understood each other well, it wasn’t really enough yet

• it’s all good though, because once you tell him that he was too uncaring of you and your feelings he does something that no other man would do:

• apologize, admit his mistake, reflect on it a lot and,,, actually change!!

• he’s much softer to you after that, and he finally realizes that you were still his precious girl and you were sensitive when it came to him

• cursed himself for being too reliant on how you never seemed sensitive or needy

• doesn’t dwell too much on regret, just treats you 100x times better

• is fascinated with your passion for martial arts but is against you overdoing training

• one time, he was torn between dragging you out of practice or just turning a blind eye to your visible exhaustion since you’re always so tough anyway, you’ll manage

• but then he remembers his promise to himself to never treat you like you aren’t the most special person to him so he excuses himself from practice and heads to your training room

you sat alone, your back to the wall. everyone else has gone home but you stayed because your muscles were too sore and you felt like you couldn’t even walk for another day. maybe it had something to do with how you’ve been training too much.

you’re startled upon seeing shoes on the floor you blankly stared at, looking up to meet eyes with Ushijima. “Wakatoshi,” you say in surprise.

he is expressionless as he bends down across you between your legs, and you had to admit this was something you weren’t used to from him. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft as velvet. you’re taken aback by his question, looking away in embarrassment.

Wakatoshi rarely asks you that, and most of the time it was only when you said the word ‘ow’ when you accidentally hit something. you clear your throat, bringing your hands together to play with your fingers, “I’m okay.”

it was silent for a few seconds before you hear him sigh, not only that, warm, gentle hands had found its way to yours and you look at him, bewildered. “is this okay?” he asks, looking down at both your hands and you nod. “your hands are much smaller, compared to mine at least.” he says, but you’re too flustered to even understand that.

“are other things okay too?” he asks, and like his former statement, you didn’t understand. your silence doesn’t stop him though, he decided to push his luck. tugged gently by your wrist, your back’s no longer pressed to the wall as ushijima wakatoshi pulls you in his arms for the first time in your very few months of dating.

“wakatoshi,” you mumble, your heart racing so much you’re sure he feels it against his chest. he’s so warm, welcoming, and in his loving hold felt like the rightest place to be. “you’re not feeling okay.”

you don’t respond, opting to bury your face at the crook of his neck instead. “I’m here, I know you’re tired.”

you both stay in that position for a long time, it was addicting to be cradled in his arms and he felt the same. “y/n,” he whispers, and you hum in response.

“you’re strong. very strong. you don’t need a man at all.”

your heart skips a beat, “toshi are you breaking up with me?”

you hear a soft chuckle ring in your ears, “let me finish. as I said, you’re very strong. you look like you’re always so tough. but you’re not, and so…” he trails off, so you pull away to look at him, hesitance evident in his eyes, his palm still pressed at the small of your back.

“you’re not always strong. in fact if I dare say, you are fragile, and I care about you. so please, allow me to be there for you all the time, I’ll be here, just like now.”

General Taglist [Open]: @noyasbitchh @dinablossom @haru-the-secret @strayczennies @lalisbitch @tinymidgetsstuff @animebs @astrealia @kittykitkatstrawberry @hajimesbbygrl @kellesvt @24hr7dysdizzy @arnxldss @elianetsantana @vicassa @floraraine @beanst0ck @leinnah @kageyamasgirl @deafeningart @minibobabottle @franko-pop @moonlightaangel @throughtheinterstices @micasaessakusa @dixonsbugaboo @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @ultzuko @yappychan @dipsydoo542 @devilgirlcrybabiey @dai-tsukki-desu

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #oikawa x reader #kuroo x reader #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #oikawa tohru #ushijima wakatoshi #kuroo tetsuro

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pathsofpassion · 3 years

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Chapter 10 of Afternoon Snacks is up on AO3, or under the Read More below. Drown out the horror of That Ending with feelings about Dean’s half-feral teenage daughter; I promise it won’t hurt NEARLY as bad.

Chapter 10:

Jody is not – she’s not a quiet person. She’s not loud like Dean is, but she’s solid, firm and decided and she’s easy to get along with but when she stops yielding, she stops.

To be honest, it's one of her favorite things about herself – a skill that took years to build, this solid refusal to give once she’s hit the point where she wants to plant her feet.

So she doesn’t sit in silence, processing, after Dean finishes talking. She closes her eyes, and puts her fingertips to her temples, and sums up the situation to her understanding. “You have. A traumatized, half-feral teenage daughter, and for the last two months she’s been here. Alone. With the three of you. One of you let her get shot, one of you shot her, and one of you is a literal angel who’s also dating her father.”

None of them are stupid enough to respond yet; they know she isn’t finished.

“Am I missing anything?”

Cas speaks up. She likes that about him, that he is willing to talk. More willing than any Winchester at a given moment, at least. “She also has superhuman abilities that we don’t know the extent of, progressed from a toddler to a teenager in a matter of days, and spent several years in Purgatory.”

Jody takes in a breath before she responds; he answered, which was more than the other two managed, and that should be encouraged. “Yeah, Cas. That’s what I was getting at by saying she’s traumatized.”

Though there is trauma on a normal human, police-officer-sheriff level, trauma on a hunter level, and then this; she can allow that the distinction probably matters.

“Okay.” She pulls in a breath and tries to wrap her thoughts around this – situation. Dean had mentioned an unusual upbringing, not a lot of time with people, when he’d first told her about Emma; he hadn’t nearly explained this. “We’re gonna do some new stuff, guys. You know that, right? That this isn’t everything she needs.”

Three nods. Progress; at least Sam and Dean are responding.

“So.” Jody ticks items off on her fingers. “I’m gonna come down with the girls and visit, often as we can – every other weekend, for me, and whenever I can get them to come.” Claire and Alex begged off tonight, decided to go to a friend’s for the holiday, and Jody had been glad enough that Claire wanted to go to a friend’s and Alex wanted to go with her that she hadn’t even entertained the idea of refusing.

Step one: get Emma some female companionship, and some relationships that aren’t utterly and completely littered with trauma. That is doable, is something concrete she can accomplish to help that child, and it eases the tightness that had grown in her gut as Dean gave a brutally honest account of the Emma Situation.

From what she’s seen, just at dinner and their conversation in the hallway, Emma needs non-Winchester interactions badly.

“She needs to get out.” She stares at each of them in turn; Cas is the only one who meets her gaze, and from the glint in his eyes she suspects that he’s tried to work this angle before. “No matter what you’re doing for her legal and school records, she needs something that is outside of this bunker and away from you three. Sign her up for a damn painting class at the Y if that’s what it takes, but she’s got to have something that’s hers and gives her time outside, with other people.”

And, speaking of. “She really should be in school.” Dean lifts his head to protest, and Jody raises her palm. “Maybe she can’t do traditional school, for a lot of reasons. But she needs a basic education, not just whatever she can pick up from you three and the internet. There are good online high schools, tutoring programs, hell if you want to full-on home school her I’d be thrilled, but she needs enough of an education to function in the outside world.”

She had learned a lot about alternative education options in the last two years; raising a pair of headstrong teenagers who’d spent half their lives out of the traditional school system was funny that way.

“I don’t know how much of that she can do, Jody.” It’s quiet and strained and damn, that’s always the problem with these three, isn’t it? Because they are idiots, but they care so much that she can never hold it against them. Dean’s face is a study in conflict, in longing, in parental concern, and it makes the old wounds deep in her chest ache. Her son would be about the girls’ age now, Claire and Alex and Emma’s.

Dean clears his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “She. Hell, she nearly had a damn panic attack just going into an empty grocery store last night, and that was progress.”

“Then you adapt it for her.” She doesn’t flinch away from the tired worry in his stare. “You find ways to help her do it, or you change what the structure is, but there are things she needs from outside this bunker, things that you can’t give her. No matter how much you want to.” Her lips twitch. “If she can’t do a painting class at the Y, you start her off with an online tutor, but you find a way to give that child some regular damn human interaction with people outside this room.”

All three of them wince. Good. Because she's not fucking done.

But all of that was the easy part.

She pulls in a deep, slow breath, and turns to meet Sam's gaze squarely. "You're re-traumatizing her every time she sees you." It's blunt and awful and there's no other way to say it. She refuses to flinch from how his face crumbles, refuses to look away, because Sam Winchester is a good man and he deserves that much.

Blunt and awful, but she said it, because it needed to be said. Because Sam Winchester might be a good man, but he also killed Emma, and Sam can defend himself but Emma cannot.

Even if his reasons were good – and she is not convinced of that – Emma is the victim here. Her lips press together, thin and tight. "You understand that, right? No matter how much you try to avoid her, no matter how careful you are with her, you killed her."

And him killing her sent Emma to purgatory, which Sam couldn't have known but as if that matters to how Emma must feel it? Jody knows that this is – ruthless, probably, but she has to make sure they understand.

They don't understand, they can't, because if they already understood – she has to believe that they would have already changed something, if they truly understood.

So it feels like shit, but she makes herself keep going. "Every time she sees you, or hears you, she's reminded of that and where she was sent after. Having to live in a place where she knows you're nearby, twenty-four seven?"

Jody's throat catches, her eyes closing. Grief is a different kind of trauma, but she couldn't even begin to heal until she moved out of the home where her family was slaughtered. The reminders of them everywhere – some she kept, carefully tucked away, but being surrounded by the remnants of their lives was like being surrounded by their deaths over and over again.

"Expecting her to live like that is… God, guys, tell me you can see how that's got to be hurting her. How's she supposed to heal when she has to be constantly terrified that she's going to be sent back?"

Dean's white as a sheet, a dull horror in his eyes, and Jody didn't want to cause that but they need to know. That Emma has made the progress she has is nothing short of amazing; if they want her to keep healing, something. Has. To. Change.

"I'll go."

The words are quiet, and she expected them, she hoped for them, but they still hurt to hear. The hurt is small, much smaller than how her heart is breaking for Emma, but – she loves Sam. He is a dear, dear friend, essentially family, and she knows how much this has to be tearing him up inside.

But Sam Winchester is a good man, and so he offers (to do what he should have done two months ago, but she knows the Winchesters, knows this couldn't have occurred to them until someone else pointed out the obvious).

Jody listens for the instinctive, knee-jerk Sam, no from Dean, and – when she looks at him, it's there in the hard press of his lips, the lines of his face, but he doesn't say it. She's so, so damn proud of him in that moment, and a glance at Cas shows the same kind of bittersweet pride in his eyes.

"I, uh." Sam rubs his palms over his knees, and his eyes are wet but for the first time since she got to the bunker he seems at peace. God, she hadn't noticed how much tension Sam was carrying until now, when it's gone. "That – you remember Eileen?" He's looking at Dean, and there isn't recrimination on his face, isn't any anger or judgment.

He understands that in this, Dean has to put Emma first; that in weighing the balance, this will be a small loss for Sam and a large gain for Emma, and it isn't about who Dean loves more, just about whose need is greater right now.

She hopes Dean can understand that, too.

She doesn't remember an Eileen, but Jody guesses she'll get that story out of Dean later.

Sam is, despite the regret still lining his face, actually blushing a little. "She invited me to a – it's like a folklore conference? She said about half the speakers are in the know. I could meet up with her, hunt together for a while. Go visit Garth. You know?"

It's not a permanent solution, but it's a start.

"That is an excellent idea, Sam." Cas's voice is approving, and it's about damn time she got some backup here. "We will miss you, but Jody is correct; I believe some time apart from you will help Emma immensely."

Most people would try to soften that apart from you, but Sam doesn't even blink; Jody is still getting used to Cas-style bluntness, but if she had to live with Winchesters all the time, she'd probably take it up too just to get a point across.

"Okay." She can see Dean taking a deep breath, bracing himself; see a complex tangle of emotions flicker back and forth through his eyes. He scrubs at his face, blows out a breath, and gives a jerky nod. "That's – yeah. Okay. We can try that."

The relief that drags through her makes her head drop against the back of her chair, her eyes close. "Good job, guys," Jody says, and she means it; that they needed an outside perspective doesn't mean her boys haven't been doing the best they knew.

It's just that the best you know isn't good enough, when you're a parent. She's learning that over and over again, and it seems like she's just semi-picked up another kid.

She's okay with that.

#pop fic #my writing #emma verse #second chances verse #pop fiction

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ofcastora · 3 years

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@evcravens asked: 🔆 regency babeeeeeey

TW: mentions of drug overdose, death mentions, awkward pining

MENTIONED/APPEAR: @ofaguilar, @ofrosso, @deadvalentinagallo, @matthiaswarren, @priam-taravella, Pandora Phan, Roman Montague, Hazel Accardi, Alvise Vernon, Damiano Montague, Armand “Ajax” Giordano

Miss Ramona Aguilar and Miss Castora Aguilar, or “The Aguilar Girls”, as they were sometimes referred to in order to save time, were perhaps the most unlucky members of the ton, with Castora being a hare more unlucky than Ramona.

Their streak of rotten luck began about four-and-ten years ago when Castora’s father, Lorenzo, an unrepentant rake with neither the desire nor the capability to reform, left his wife and Uppercross estate, never to be heard from again. Uppercross then passed to Matteo, Ramona’s father; a widow of most gracious temperament; while this was bad luck for Miss Castora and her mother, Isabella, it was a pleasant turn of events for Matteo, a second son who was better suited to be first.

Isabella, as tender hearted as she was, did not bare the change in life circumstances well and soon departed the estate with Castora in tow. She had passed two years later from influenza at her parent’s home in the countryside (in the poorhouse). Castora returned to Uppercross as Matteo Aguilar’s ward and he promised to provide a dowry of 800 pounds per annum for her. It was a little less than Ramona’s dowry of 1,000 pounds per annum, but that was to be expected and was not malicious Matteo had only expected to provide a dowry for one girl, not two. If Castora ever took any insult to this, she didn’t remember it. She was simply too happy to be back at Uppercross, and in the company of her cousin’s Ramona and Andrés again.

“I do not need the money, uncle,” she had said. “For I promise I shall never marry unless it is for the greatest love, which I vow to never seek.” It would be an easy promise to keep, Castora had thought, already realizing at a young age that a poorer relation with an infamous father was not likely to draw a good sister. Ramona, already famed as a beauty, would be able to draw a rich husband and Castora could be a very happy spinster.

Whatever damage Lorenzo had done to the Aguilar reputation, Matteo had been able to undo it with some help from powerful friends, Lord Montague and Lord Vernon, and get his daughter and niece into the ton for the 1813 season the year both girls turned eight-and-ten. Everything was going as expected.

Ramona was hailed as the Incomparable, had a dance card full at every party, and managed to convince the newly minted Viscount Warren, the talk of the ton for his good looks and melancholy refusal to dance because of his grief over his father’s recent death, to dance with her. She’d befriended Miss Valentina Gallo, a half-feral girl whom Castora had insulted on their first meeting; the two had caused much scandal when they came dressed as men during Lord Vernon’s masque.

Castora caught the eye of Lady Pandora Phan, the wealthy daughter of a duke on her second Season, who took her under her wing when Castora said, perhaps too loudly, that she’d only marry in the case of two unlikely events: One) a year without rain in England; and two) the greatest love. It also helped that Castora was dear friends with Marcelo Rosso, the good friend of Lord Montague’s heir, Roman. She helped Pandora secure a betrothal to Roman during the second-to-last ball of the Season by bullying all his friends into dancing with her so that Pandora could dance with Roman.

Marcelo gladly whirled his “little sister” on the floor, but Bellamy needed to be strong armed, and quiet, sullen, proud Ajax who had barely spoken two words to her all Season and whom Castora was convinced hated her, practically had to be dragged onto the floor for a quadrille. His name was not Ajax, but everyone called him that, which Castora found to be odd, but she’d never overstep her place and ask for his real name.

During the last ball of the Season, Matteo Aguilar clutched his heart and fell to the ground. He joined his wife in the ground soon after. Neither Ramona nor Castora Aguilar ended up with a match. Andrés took over Uppercross and promised to care for his sister and cousin, but by next year he had died from influenza (in an opium den, a part of the story rapidly hushed by Castora, with the help of Miss Valentina, Lady Pandora, and Viscount Warren) and a quick look at the books revealed that Castora and Ramona’s dowries had disappeared (into the opium den.)

Uppercross was entailed to a distant cousin, who supplied them with a small allowance and agreed to let them stay in London for the Season in order to get them married. The Aguilar Girls were sometimes the talk of the ton, particular when Miss Castora almost broke Lord Priam Taravella’s nose with a pall-mall ball to the nose, but they had good, loyal friends in high places who would not let them be destitute. Ramona wrote letters to Viscount Warren nearly every day, and he wrote back just as quickly. They danced the first two dances – or, scandalously, the first three – at every ball, and a proposal was to come any day now.

Any. Day. Now. Castora would very much like to be a viscount’s sister-in-law (well, cousin-in-law, technically, but all knew that Miss Castora and Miss Ramona were as close as sisters). It’d be so much easier to sleep at night knowing Ramona was taken care of and she could embrace her destiny as a spinster.

But, for some God forsaken reason, that day did not come. It did not come during their third Season, nor by their fourth, and by their fifth – the last this distant cousin was willing to pay for – Castora was ready to drag them to a church and perform the ceremony herself. Her favorite evenings, a respite from her cousin’s romance, came at the gatherings Pandora would host at her and Roman’s lodgings.

She always bested everyone at whist, but never Ajax, Roman’s quiet friend whom she learned from Pandora had amassed a small fortune in the Navy, at whist. Apart from the fact that his back was always determinedly straight and the intense look in his green eyes, she wouldn’t have pegged him for a soldier – he was too quiet. When she mentioned this to Pandora, she laughed. “Oh, Ajax? He’s quiet, Castora, but he’s got a good humor. You should hear him talk about what adventures he and his ward, Hazel, get up to...”

It was then that she noticed that Ajax did talk in the company of their shared acquaintances – to Pandora, to Bellamy, sometimes with Matthias, at length with Roman, and even terse words with Marcelo. But never to her.

One day after he’d beat her at whist again, Castora had remarked, “If you’re going to beat me so often, you could at least tell me your name, so I can properly curse you.” His cheeks turned red, and he stood up and left the room. He came back, just ten minutes later, and entered into a rousing conversation with Roman, and Castora had come to realize that Ajax just didn’t like her, and well, if he didn’t like her, then she didn’t like him.

“I’d rather help you write a love letter than spend a minute with him, I swear,” she’d whined to Ramona once.

Then, one day, she woke up to find Ramona had left their London house with nothing but a brief note – Gone to Greta Green with Matthias. Love, your cousin – and Castora was ready to walk to Gretna Green on foot in order to murder her cousin. News of Ramona Aguilar and Matthias Warren’s elopement spread quickly, and suddenly Castora found herself in a very unfortunate position where her reputation was damaged by association and no one would believe that Castora – Ramona’s closest companion – knew nothing about these plans.

Said cousin wrote as soon as he heard the news that Castora, an associate of wanton wickedness, could no longer stay at the London residence. To make matters worse, no one had heard from Ramona nor Viscount Warren, leading doubts as to whether the pair had actually married at all.

In summation, that is why Castora Aguilar – penniless daughter of a vagabond, unwitting accomplice to an elopement, future murderess of Ramona Aguilar – considered herself the unluckiest member of the ton. And that is precisely what she told Pandora, having wound up sobbing in her hallway, in full view of her servants, with her things.

“You can stay as long as you need to,” Pandora said, pulling her friend out of the hall where any servants could see and gossip. She wiped away her tears. “I will fix this, Cas. I will find a way.”

Castora simply nodded, thankful to not have be turned out or go back to the poorhouse, but the tears kept flowing –– a rather odd, unsightly thing to witness from the elder Miss Aguilar, who hadn’t cried since her mother died. “What’s wrong, Cas?” Pandora asked, more alarmed than she already was.

“Nothing,” she sniffed. “It’s just –– I can never marry for love, now.” It was unlikely before the scandal, but now it would be nothing but a dream. Castora had never realized had badly she would have liked to be loved. “I cannot even marry for comfort. Who will want me, Pan? What can I give them? How...how will I live?” Perhaps if Ramona and Matthias returned as man and wife there would be hope for her, but there was no word. When a lady’s reputation is damaged, it is a stain that can never come out.

Pandora took her hand, “We will find a way.”

“I cannot take more from you than I already have,” Castora had insisted. It was a blow to her pride – always the poorer relation, always needing help from friends in higher placer. For once, she’d like to just be Castora and be comfortable and be enough.

“You only take what I willingly give.”

Two weeks later, Castora was trying to stave off a foul mood by reading a book in Pandora and Roman’s drawing room when Ajax bounds in. He had not stopped to take off his coat or his hat, and his brow was covered in sweat. He looked positively undone, like he was about to be sick.

“Roman and Pandora are calling on Lord Tomas and Lady Celeste,” she informed him matter-of-factly. “I can ring for tea, if you’d like?”

“No,” he said suddenly. “No,” he repeated softly.

“Would you like to wait for them?” Ajax looked her at like she was sprouting another head. Castora closed her book and made her way to the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To the library?”

“Why?”

“Because it looks like you’re going to wait here and I’d prefer to continue my book.”

He looked at her desperately. “But I’m hear to see you, Miss Aguilar.”

“Me?” Now she was looking at him like he was sprouting a second head. “Whatever for?”

He gestured for her to sit. She stood obstinately for a moment, before deciding to sit lest the man collapse. So, Castora sat and waited, but Ajax didn’t speak.

After a long, quiet moment, he opened his mouth and said, “I cannot hide my feelings anymore. I love you, most ardently and most fiercely.” It was a good thing she had heeded him and sat down, for Castora was quite certain she would have fainted. Instead she looked at him blankly. “I love you,” he repeated, as if she had not heard the first time. “I love you and I would like to marry you.”

She rolled her eyes, “This is Pandora’s doing, isn’t it?” It all made sense – a sudden proposal from a man in their social circle, not rich but could certainly keep Castora comfortable for her days, who could be persuaded to attempt to save the future of his dear friend’s wife’s friend.

Ajax looked at her dumbstruck. “What? No --”

“I’m not offended.” Well, maybe a little. “I know she wants to help, but you don’t need to throw yourself on this sword...with such verve.”

“Miss Aguilar, I think you misunderstand me.”

“It’s alright. I know she simply enlisted you to try to help me with my current predicament, and while I appreciate what you are doing for me, there is no need to say you love me.”

He was starting to get annoyed, “I am following no one’s will but my own. I love you and I want to marry you.”

“Love me?” Now Castora was well and truly offended. “You need not lie to me, sir. It is one thing to propose a marriage of convenience and of duty. It is another thing to lie about the matters of the heart.”

“I am not lying to you. I cared for you, and I have cared for you since the day I first laid eyes on you.”

She stood up suddenly, “But you don’t even like me!”

“How can you think that?”

“You don’t talk to me. You engage everyone in conversation, even Marcelo on occassion, but never me. You won’t tell me your name! And you never let me win at whist! If you loved you, you would’ve put me out of my misery and let me win at least one game.”

“Perhaps that’s because you’re not good enough.” He, quite noticeably didn’t know to answer the first part of her accusations. “What is you answer?”

For a moment, Castora forgot she was being proposed to. “No,” she said coldly. “If you had asked in a gentleman like manner and not pretended to have an attachment to me, then perhaps my answer would’ve been different.”

“I apologize. For being so presumptuous as to believe that you would--”

Someone by the doorway clears their throat. “What is going on in here?” Pandora asks. Roman is by her side, and almost just as confused as his wife.

“A proposal, apparently. Pandora, I appreciate what you are trying to do for me, but I could do without false protestations of love.”

Pandora’s eyes widen. “Oh, Cas...”

Castora looks between Pandora, Roman, and Ajax, realization dawning on her. Oh no. You’re really in love with me. This was a real proposal. This wasn’t a game. Her cheeks are bright red, and she wishes the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Ajax lowers his head. “I should go. Apologies for intruding. Roman, Pandora.” He moves past Roman and Pandora to the hallway, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Before Castora knows what she’s doing, she runs after him, grabbing him by the hand before he is able to open the door. Ajax stops cold in his tracks.

Castora doesn’t know what to do next, her hand in his. He looks at her with something like hope in his beautiful green eyes, and suddenly pulls her hand away. “I’m sorry. I did not know you were being earnest in your proposal to me. All that talk about love confused me and I was wrong to be offended by it. I see know that you were only saying it because you thought that would be the best way to make overtures without injuring my pride.”

“What?”

“I’d like to say yes. If you would still have me.”

She hopes he says yes. This is perhaps her only chance to avoid ruin.

“Yes. I would -- that would be....suitable,” he says. “I’m sorry for saying that I loved you. I should have realized it would be the wrong approach.

He leaves and Castora feels like she’s had the wind knocked out of her. Oh, yes, I’m definitely going to wring Ramona’s neck next time I see her.

The wedding is slated for a month from tomorrow. Roman and Pandora Montague publicly supported the match, so the rest of the ton falls in line and whispers about the match behind Castora’s back. She pretends not to notice. Soon-to-be-married ladies with less-than-perfect reputations cannot wack people with pall mall mallets.

There is a garden party and she’s taking a turn about the room with her future husband. They’re walking silently arm-in-arm. If there is anything Castora has realized about Ajax recently it’s that he’s actually quite handsome. The pair were both pretending like the love confession never happened.

“Lovely weather today,” Castora remarks insipidly. Ajax nods in agreement, but says nothing. This is why she had wanted to marry for love – to have someone to talk to. Loneliness she could bare, but not the quiet. But it was different with Ajax. The awkwardness was still there, but the silences were comfortable. She could get used to his quiet.

“Can I ask you something?” Ajax looks like he’s about to be ill, but nods. “Can you tell me why I can’t beat you at whist?” He almost smiles. It was a rare sight, to see Ajax smiling. She felt a flutter of pride that she could bring one to his face.

“It depends on the game. Some days you overexert yourself, thinking about what my strategy could be. And then there are days you are so impatient that you make silly mistakes.”

“Yes, that all makes sense, but how can I beat you?”

He smiles again. “You’ll learn one day.”

“Can I learn your name, then? I suppose I should not find out what you are called at the altar.”

Ajax thinks for a second. “Armand. My name is Armand, but I would prefer if you continued to call me Ajax, Miss Aguilar.”

Armand, she thinks. The name would sound lovely rolling off her tongue.

She nods. “You can call me Castora, if you like. Since we are to be wed, I think it only reasonable.”

Ajax escorts her back to Pandora and Roman’s home. When they return, the is a solicitor named Mr. Fredericks who insists that he’d like to see her in the drawing room. Then, he presents her with documents and says, “Miss Aguilar, I represent an individual who has bequeathed you 50,000 pounds.”

Castora and Ajax’s jaws drop. “You must be mistaken.”

“I’m not. Believe me, I double and triple checked with my client regarding this matter. He’s quite insistent in leaving you this sum.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say. All he said is that a Miss Castora Maria Aguilar, daughter of Isabella, who currently resides in London with Lord and Lady Montague is to receive this sum.” He takes a good, long look at her. “I have my theories though.”

“What theories?”

“I’d prefer to keep them to myself.”

Ajax cuts in. “Who is this individual?”

“He would prefer to remain anonymous, particularly as he is still living.”

“Can I find out who he is when he dies?”

Mr. Fredericks shrugs. “Perhaps, although that may not be for some time.”

They see Mr. Fredericks out and return to the drawing room. Castora is rich, and she’s smiling so brightly her face is starting to hurt.

“Pandora and Roman will be back soon. I’ll inform them upon the return about the wedding.”

“What about the wedding?”

“...You don’t wish to end our engagement?”

“No, whatever for?”

“You are rescued, Castora. You no longer need me.”

Her heart sinks in her chest. She should have realized that he would have no longer wanted to marry her now that he no longer had to, particularly after she offended him so.

“I see no wish to bring further scandal to my name, and the wedding is one month. But if you wish to break the engagement, I promise I will not be offended. I have....some 50,000 pounds to cushion the blow.”

“I would...like to continue.”

“Then we are in agreement....would you like to play a game of whist?”

He nods and sits down at the table across from her, taking out a deck of cards. They play with hearts first. He beats her six times in a row before she insists they stop.

The wedding day comes and goes without major fuss. Marcelo walks her down the aisle, glaring at Ajax the whole way. Pandora smiles for her. Ajax’s ward, Hazel, looks at Castora like she doesn’t quite know what to do with her. Castora and Ajax say their vows, and she thinks they’ll both mean them. Even if they won’t ever be in love with each other, for how could he love her after his first proposal, they would be loyal.

When the wedding night comes, Ajax takes her back to his lodgings. Hazel is spending the evening with some friends in town, so they have the place all to themselves. “I figured it would be best to wait until the marriage to look for new lodgings.” A good idea, considering Castora’s sudden inheritance.

Later, he shows her to an empty bedroom and places her luggage on the floor. “We can figure out precise arrangements later. Good night, Castora.”

He turns to leave. She looks at him perplexed. “Is this not your room?”

“No. Mine to the left.”

“So -- are we not to...to.....” Castora blushes, rarely at a loss for words. “To consummate the marriage, Ajax?”

He looks at her as if she’s struck him. “There is no need to.”

“Why the devil not?”

Ajax doesn’t answer. He just leaves, closing the door behind him.

Castora cannot sleep. She’s tried, but not matter what she does, all her thoughts are of Ajax and why he didn’t want them to share a bed tonight.

At half past two, she knocks on Ajax’s bedroom loudly. Her husband answers. “Did I wake you?”

“No.”

“Good. You didn’t answer my question. Why the devil not?”

He looks pained. “Please, Castora.”

“I don’t want you to share your bed with me if you don’t want to. I just want an explanation.”

“Because I love you, and I know you do not return my feelings, so I would prefer...I would prefer it if you did not break my heart.”

This is the first time they’ve spoken about the proposal since it happened. Castora is thankful it’s dark so he cannot see her shame.

“Still?” Castora doesn’t know what to say.

“Still.”

“I don’t want to break your heart,” she replies. “Can I come in, please? We do not need to share a bed, but it’s awkward to talk like this.” He moves aside and lets her in, her hand brushing his. She sits on the edge of the bed. There is a long moment of quiet before she says, “I do not want to break your heart. I didn’t...I didn’t even realize I was in possession of it.”

“You have been for years, Castora.” He’s not angry. It’s just a fact to him at this point. “Ever since that first day we met. Do you remember?”

Castora is surprised that she does. “Yes. It was my first season, when Pandora and Roman were still courting. We danced a quadrille, I believe. Lord Montague had introduced us earlier that evening.”

“He did. I had asked Roman to ask him to.”

“Why?” She laughed, unable to fathom why he would want to meet her.

“Your cousin had been declared the Incomparable of the Season, yes? And there was a lot of disappointment that she hadn’t secured a proposal at that point.”

“I remember.”

“And someone, I forget who, made a comment that perhaps the only way in which Ramona was the Incomparable was an Incomparable Failure. So, you---”

“So I told her that no, that role had been already filled by her.”

“And that Ramona was the Incomparable in every sense except for rapier wit and excellent penmenship, which was why she kept you around.” Ajax shrugged. “I--you love her so much, and you never stood by when people gossiped about you. It was...impossible not to love you. But, uh, Pandora told me that you would only marry for the greatest love, and I would never presume that I could give you that.”

Oh, how Castora wished she had never made that vow, even if it was half in jest. She’d forgotten how sharp her words could be, how easily they hurt. “You know, I also vowed to marry unless it didn’t rain in England for a year.”

“My point.”

“Do you know why I made that vow?” He shakes his head. “My father was not a good man; he lied, cheated, stole and abandoned my mother and I. She died in a poorhouse, but she loved him. She loved him to the very end, never losing hope that he would come for her, for us. I saw what insufficient love does, so I never wanted it. If I was ever to risk the dangers of matrimony, it would have to be for a love that would be steady, like a candle that would burn and never go out. It would have to be for a love that I could never deserve.”

She takes his head and kisses it. “I’m frightened, too. Frightened of what love would do to me, if it would destroy me like it did my mother. She wasn’t strong enough. And...And I know that I’m already half in love with you. I can’t give you tonight, or tomorrow, but I know I’ll been in love with you soon, and I-- I don’t want it to be too late. It’d be just my luck – the second I fall in love, you will have given up on me, Armand.” It slips out by accident. “Sorry, Ajax.”

“I like it when you say my name.” He looks at her and Castora feels seen since the first time in ages. “I promise not to break your heart if you won’t break mine.”

“Deal.” Castora leans in and kisses him. He startles, then pulls her close and kisses her back. Unlike their wedding ceremony, this kiss is only for them. Just for Castora and just for Armand.

Two weeks after the wedding, her maid informs her she has visitors in the drawing room. Castora comes downstairs to find Ramona and a sheepish Viscount Warren sitting in her drawing room. The cousin’s run into each other arms for a big hug. This was the longest they’d be apart in years and Castora hadn’t realized how badly her heart ached. “I can’t believe you got married without me, Castora Maria Aguilar. Well, I suppose it’s Giordano now, isn’t it?”

“It is. Are you still Aguilar, or are you Ramona Warren?”

“Warren.”

“Very well then. Ramona Cecelia Warren, I’m going to murder you.”

Ramona and Matthias both look a little afraid. “How dare you run off to Gretna Green without telling me! And how dare you both take a month and a half to return without sending word! Do you know what you put me through?”

“We didn’t want to wait! And with the dowry situation ––”

“I don’t give two figs about the dowry situation! He’s a bloody viscount, Mona, he could afford to marry a woman with no fortune! I, on the other hand, could not afford to be a woman without a fortune and no reputation! And why did you not come home earlier?”

“But we got married the second we got to Gretna Green! I wrote to you. Oh, the letters must have been waylaid. You know my penmanship is awful, Castora! And when Matthias’s cousin’s heard we were in Scotland, they invited us to stay and---”

"Yes, yes,” Castora says impatiently, “And with the letters not arriving, you didn’t realize what a fuss it would cause.”

“Something like that,” Ramona replies. “Now tell me, dear cuz, what else did I miss?”

Castora smiles wickedly, “I’ll write you a letter and make you wait a month and a half to read it.”

#&. asks | answers & memes & drabbles & more oh my #couldn't find the regency au ask so oops here it is #i apologize if i went over/wrong with #anyone's characterizations #also this may or may not be inspired by bridgerton ooops #drug mention tw #death mention tw #&. armand | your name is like a melody

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anthroblog123 · 5 years

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Real World In Zootopia The film Zootopia, a Disney animated film, is used to portray ideas about Western Society to its audience. More specifically, Disney portrays the way they want social, political, and economical issues to be seen by the viewers in their films by mirroring social movements, the hierarchies in the political system, and police brutality that are exhibited in modern day society. Zootopia reflects the issues of discrimination in the form of its animal kingdom. The setting of the film is a modern day society with animals that get along in harmony. The issue that arises is the number of animals that turn savage, meaning they become feral creatures who are unable to participate in society. This results in a division between the animals, more specifically the predator and prey. This issue of discrimination in Zootopia could almost replicate the one present American society faces and how it’s communicated throughout the media. In “Media/Society in a Digital World” by Croteau and Hoynes, the authors explain how the Black Lives Matter Movement is a movement impacted from the advancement in media and technology. The authors describe the changes that impacted this movement saying, “New technology could be employed to gather, and share content, often in real time. Some media users could play a more active role in creating and sharing this content...the media industry was structured to produce quicker coverage across numerous outlets” (Croteau and Hoynes 21). Zootopia showcases the predator vs prey movement similar to the Black Lives Matter Movement. The animals protesting against one another, YouTube videos with interviews being uploaded, comments about the topic are posted all over social media, and videos of animals turning savage are uploaded. These are all representations of how media plays an active role in the social world, and how Disney chooses to incorporate all of this demonstrates the idea behind them having so much power, but especially in this new technological era and how they choose to present it. Zootopia shows the hierarchy system in politics and how social media plays a role in what the viewers see. Zootopia’s mayor and secretary, a mayor and sheep, are in cahoots with one another in framing the predators as savage, and the sheep who is actually the grand mastermind of this scheme, frames the predators to turn savage in hopes of turning the predator community weak against the prey. The way the predators were portrayed on the news aligns with how the author of “Framing and Framing Analysis”, Kitzenger, says the media is framed. Kitzenger writes, “Although a great deal of framing research is concerned with specific substantiate issues, another strand of framing research addresses overarching or generic frames. These writers are concerned with patterns that cross cut the media coverage of diverse stories” (Kitzenger 149). The hierarchy system in Zootopia was framed in a normalized way up until the reality of it was discovered. We can connect this idea to how society’s politics are viewed and represented similarly. Disney is a company who virtually owns the majority of television, radio, and films, so they get to choose how the news is reported and what the viewer’s get to see. Images and key phrases play a pivotal role in all of this, as it’s a way to catch the attention of the viewers and to promote certain ideas and beliefs because the news is not impartial, but always biased. Zootopia shows the issues of police brutality and the way in which they are broadcasted. In “Rejuvenating American Journalism” McChesney writes, “With new stories online, on the other hand, if anything it increases my enjoyment knowing others are sharing, the same story, and I have nothing to lose by making it available to them” (McChesney 227). Overall, stories relating to police brutality are sure to go viral on almost all media platforms. Similarly, in the movie, the videos of the animals going savage would go viral on all their media platforms. By spreading these videos, more people became aware of the situations taking place. This is similar to the Croteau and Hoynes article where they discuss technology giving people the ability to share content in real time. Viewers are able to make their own judgment without having any third parties influence them. Similarly, having the ability to share content allows for a global discussion to take place. The media plays an important role in Zootopia, as it does in our society too. The film also exhibits different issues we face and how the media has affected the presentation of the news. What are some of the messages being told through this film? I would like to put out the idea that Disney wants to remind us of how powerful of a company it is and how it virtually almost owns everything media. They have the ability to choose what viewers at home will be seeing. Also, is Disney sending subliminal messages through this movie? At first glance, it appears they are trying to show kids that there should be no discrimination allowed, that the political system should be fixed, and police brutality should also be put to an end. But because Disney is such a powerful company, it must also be subliminally promoting its own ideas onto the audience, which is children and parents. There must be some other agenda. In conclusion, Disney has the power, resources, outlets, and money to be able to influence its audience any ideas, morals, desires and beliefs they desire. These kid movies are not only a way for them to capitalize on, but also a reminder of what values Disney is grounded on and what and how they promote them. Bibliography Croteau, David and William Hoynes. “Media/Society in a Digital World.” In Media/Society: Technology, Industries, Content, and Users. 6th ed. Pp. 2-22. Kitzinger, Jenny. “Framing and Frame Analysis.” In In Media Studies: Key Issues and Debates, edited by Eoin Devereux. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, 2007. Pp. 134-161. McChesney, Robert. “Rejuvenating American Journalism: Some Tentative Policy Proposals, “Workshop Presentation on Journalism, Federal Trade Commission, Washington, D.C., March 10, 2010. Meme 1: This meme shows how people on the internet have different opinions and don’t always see eye to eye. Meme 2: At first glance, Disney movies are cute and fun, but upon further inspection, there are underlying messages. Meme 3: The internet lets you upload content in real-world time.

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childrenofathoria-rp-blog · 7 years

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◆Out Of Character Information◆

Name/Age: Cas, 31 Preferred Pronouns: She/Her Timezone: EST Desired Character: Constantine

◆Character Information◆

(1) What pronouns will your character be using? Would you like to list their sexuality at this time?:

~He/Him or sometimes They/Them, sexuality I dunno! He probably does’t even understand labels like that.

(2) Any changes or comments?

~I am considering some mark on him from the Circle of Light that he can’t glamour off his body. Like a tattoo or something ‘ugly’ he can hide that is sort of a 'mark of a traitor’ type of thing. Will headcanon it out.

(3) Why this character?

~I was torn a few months ago about taking him or Phillip and decided that Phillip would be an enjoyable bio to play, so I took him. But now that time has passed, I find myself staring his bio down, and I think it’s time to dive into his character. This is the season for playing new species! I am playing a vampire, and now I’d like to also try the fae.

What captivated me with Constantine was his Bloodhawk connection. There is history I have with the hunter clan from previous seasons, and I couldn’t pass up being involved with them again. Constantine’s role is very different from anything I have written before which I think will be fun to explore especially with us pushing so many political plots forward involving the King over hunting supernaturals down. As an admin, we can use him for the main plot which is vital to keep things moving forward as well. I also want to explore ALL the realms!

(4) Interpret this character:

~When I first read his bio, I immediately thought 'wow, he’s all glitz and glam! How fun! Phillip will be so jealous!’ And he totally is this but then it sunk in how complicated he is once you read his history. The fact he has alluded to corruption in his magic is a 'red flag’ of sorts. He was imprisoned as The Guilty One by the Circle of Light so that immediately makes me wonder why? I have a few ideas to allude to this avoidance of darkness, some stemming from his magic and his family history. Was he imprisoned because they thought he couldn’t succumb to it or was he entombed because he’s actually already a monster and doesn’t know it?

Or was it all just a farce? Lots of ways to take it.

His beef with the Circle of Light is the crux of his need to be with the Kingdom. I think he honestly loves Athoria and King Nathaniel, and there isn’t an ounce of falsehood to his want to adhere to the laws and to enforce them. It can even almost seem to go too far in some cases. The Bloodhawks are literally the family he lost and always wanted.

I will probably have Constantine suffer from some PTSD and phobia involving the dark and especially enclosed spaces. I believe his house is illuminated with sunshine and light at all hours of the day, to an obnoxious and overdone point. He sleeps better in a huge bed with lots of soft objects alongside the glam of his home.

Constantine has a collection of three Brownies who take care of their house. They can take the shape of crows and are an annoying bunch, chatty and squawking, and sometimes can be a weird intimidating presence when they are all together. Constantine will sometimes alter his shape into a crow to blend in with them, using that form to spy on people or to listen in on conversations.

The fae enjoys listening to others speak. He will lead them easily down the path he wants without having to do much but nod or respond with simple words to keep their interests. This is mostly because of his trust issues and finds he can learn more about a person if he lets them lead the conversations. Constantine will hover in the front of someones conscious when they speak to detect lies but prefers to see them ruin themselves. When he’s ready to explain he will go a bit overboard, and use lots of words and questions built in to not lie about anything.

Corruption hasn’t festered in Constantine, and yet he is surrounded by it often. His work with the Bloodhawks can be nerve wracking at times, especially when calling people out on their lies and trying to establish strong connections outside the border of Athoria. He enjoys walking in Leeds to whisper in peoples ears or use his magic just enough to alter potion’s potencies to enact a new response. He has been known to answer questions about magic from the Isles that hasn’t been learned on Earth yet, and there are rumors they have seen Hell with their own eyes making those demonic magic wielders desperate for his attention when he’s in town.

Constantine isn’t a violent person, when engaged he will often run than deal with it directly. His victories are in negotiations, but he won’t try too hard to sway someone he doesn’t think worth his time. His trust is permanently stunned into submission. If he were to run into any Circle of Light members, he would be torn between wanting to corrupt them in darkness as payback (looking at Remy LOL) or attempt to find someone to deal with it for them.

He is one of the rare few fae’s who has elf souls. They are around his neck in a protected pendant. He mostly collects gifted human souls in Leeds, especially the really nasty ones. It’s amusing to him to have gotten a hold of such ugly souls and treats them like a memento of sorts. He is a realm traveler and a nosy fae. I want to use him for all the connections involving the realms.

Some plots and quests I am very interested in.

I’d like Killian to be the one to find him.

I want him to take Remy to Hell.

A changeling thread to get into his headspace about the corrupted fae.

I’d like to see him stop some environmental issue plaguing the lands either close the rift in Cresent Grove or lower the waters in Grimsby, all for the King obviously.

A dream realm thread where he’s there to get information from that person while they are vulnerable.

◆ Interview Questions ◆

(1) How do you avoid corruption after all the evil that you seem to accomplish? Aren’t you afraid that one day it will all catch up to you?

“Is corruption evil?” The fae easily turned the question around, a dancing finger fluttered near the person’s face allowing flecks of sparkles and glitters to gently cascade off his attire from the motion. “Is being tainted a terrible thing? All around us we see species evolving. Those myths you wish to tell your children about in your beds are often depicted as punishment for stepping on a side they should not have. If doing evil is such a horrible thing– if doing it didn’t somehow allow the light to exist at all…” He smirked, a gentle lift of his shoulders as if to expel a silent laugh. “Well, traveler. You would think it has caught up already, what does that say about your world?”

(2) What made you take the position in the Athorian Government as a Bloodhawk?

“The Kingdom is my home, and I want to help where I can,” Constantine settled comfortably in the chair, legs propped up on the counter of the bar. There were a few onlookers at the position in his seat, but no one said anything. “Though the job was practically made for me, how could the King not want me in it?! Who else would be so perfect other than– well, me? Well, there could be a few others, but I am good at it. Don’t you trust the King and his choices on the matter?”

◆Writing Sample:◆

~ Constantine’s brow lifted into a gentle curve against his forehead. The situation was tense by his standards. Not everything was supposed to work out easy all the time, that would make for a very boring new life– or so he delicately convinced himself. Being ignored was the frustrating weapon trust into his gut with a feral twist. The negotiations were apparently falling quicker apart between the two women over what, he glanced over too, was livestock.

“Madam’s,” his voice alone drew their gazes towards his position; he purposefully tucked his hands into a clasp behind his back. “I know this donkey, was that what it’s called?”

They both nodded, folding their arms into secure protection across their chests. Their cheeks were flush from the argument, and Constantine could tell both were ready to go off at the moment he said the wrong thing. His eyes trailed side to side between them off for a dizzying moment until squarely glaring at the lady on the left who took a step back in the sudden confrontation.

“You partner did get drunk and bet your donkey and unfortunately lost,”

“HA SEE!”

“However,” Constantine wiggled his fingers, and the lady’s outburst snapped her lips shut for her. “Your husband purposively deceived him from the beginning. Putting the bug in his ear all night about the donkey, then when he was drunk enough got him into a betting situation where he’d lose.”

“You cheat!” “I ain’t no cheat you bugger!”

Constantine closed his hands together with a clap, bringing them to his lips where the nails just touched them. They both were silent immediately, purple magic tethered around their wrists like a bangle before fading.

“You summoned me to help you. I was not called here on Bloodhawk business, surely something over a donkey could have been resolved between two adults and not require me?” The ground trembled, a crack forming just under their toes. Constantine asked a lot of questions; it was part of his way around revealing too much truth. Masking curiousness and being unsure about topics with an inquiry.

“You have helped them before,” one of the wives quickly said, lifting her hands in a mild exposure of surrender to their bickering. “We trust you when you make a decision.”

“Alright, then I say this,” he sighed, releasing the bound claps of his fingers from near his face and snapped them instead. The husbands appeared by their sides, both already drunk and it was barely mid day. He drew out a piece of parchment out of thin air and quill.

“You can keep the donkey, but you owe them the amount of coin or trade for the value of one since you did lose the bet,” Constantine lifted his gaze from the parchment and glared at the other man. “And you are prohibited from gambling in Brailston. I won’t extend it beyond those borders, but since this family lives here, I feel that’s a fair trade.

"You know this is magically binding– even more so since you summoned me personally. If you do not keep your end of the contract, Jailor Kei Barcena will receive notification. Then things our out of my hands,”

With a curl of his hand, the parchment disappeared and went into his filing system.

They walked away quietly, adults with their heads bowed low as if he had struck a whip to their backs in disappointment. Humans were so confusing and depressing sometimes; he couldn’t entirely understand their fights even though he made an effort to keep the peace for King Nathaniel.

“Didn’t know you were in town,” one of his fellow Bloodhawk members took a few steps to meet his side, and Constantine offered a crooked smile in return. A calmness washed over him the very second the other neared him. The clan was home, and he wasn’t going to mess this up.

“Wasn’t planning on it, I was supposed to be Leeds for the remainder of the season,”

“Well, it’s good to see you. Why don’t we catch up?” Constantine nodded with a gentle wave in the direction of the main steet walk.

“Of course–”

#athoria accepted #lsrpg #supernatural rpg #fantasy rpg

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