#also there’s a track called waking the witch
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Thinking about how the whole second half of Kate Bush’s Hounds of Love album is a conceptual narrative (called The Ninth Wave) about a woman lost at sea fighting to survive and how she has to keep herself awake. And how she wishes she had her radio to “tune into some friendly voices” in order to not fall asleep and how there’s all these people trying to tell her to wake up and how, as some kind of spirit, she watches all her friends and family but they can’t hear her. And how her own future self comes to visit her to tell her not to give up…
And all that…just strikes me as a little too coincidental.
#The Duffers and their foreshadowing will quite literally kill me one day.#max mayfield#stranger things#stranger things 5#stranger things theories#by the way the woman in the story survives#according to Kate bush at least#but some people have interpreted it differently so#also there’s a track called waking the witch#just leaving that here I guess
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Short Days,Long Nights: 10
Joel Miller x f!reader
Rating: Mature (anxiety, pregnancy, grim mentions of childbirth)
Series Masterlist
A/N: thank you endlessly to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for reassuring me that this isn’t a terrible, no good, very bad piece of writing ❤️ and also, I wanna reassure you that despite the emotions in this chapter, my intention has always been a happy ending for these two. Don’t fret. ❤️
—
Something is off.
He treads carefully down the path he’s followed for months, his boots leaving pressed imprints in the soft dirt and his eyes scan for signs of life. His mind is back in the cabin where he left you sleeping, your body curled into a tight ball along the edge of his form left on the sheets, and he tried hard not to wake you, though he didn’t have to be too careful given how tired you’ve been lately.
Sleeping late, turning in early, naps in the middle of the day. You blame the heat, or the boredom, or the way reading makes you drowsy, but even he knows that’s not all it is.
You’ve been distracted, quiet. Drawing into yourself more often these last couple weeks, he tries to recall if he’s said or done anything, to remember if he himself is the cause. It’s been a long time since he cared about what anyone else thought – definitely since he cared enough to want to atone for anything he’s done – but for you, he sifts through his words and actions.
He knows you so well by now. Knows every tell, every minute shift in your mood. More molecular than reading your body language, the air between you shifts and changes when you’re upset, your face betraying nothing to someone who doesn’t know you as well as he does. You’ve been hiding your face more from him lately, because he knows you must know it’s open for him like his is now open for you.
The back of your head facing him in the garden, the peek of your forehead over the top of your book, the way you look at him like you’re about to say something, but when he gives you the space, you look away.
Even at night, you hide your face into the soft crook of his neck to sleep.
He kneels to inspect deer tracks, his fingers brushing aside growth to follow their lead and heading deeper into the forest, the air around him cools under the canopy of trees. The woods are alive with sounds: bird calls, soft chittering, the rustle and slide of leaves, the crunch of his boots as they snap small twigs underfoot.
Amidst it all, he tries to work out the puzzle of you; his bow held loose in his grip.
–
Your hands shaking with nerves as you watch him disappear beyond the treeline, you pull your bottom lip into your mouth with a bite and scold yourself for not telling him about your suspicions this morning.
Or yesterday.
Or the day before that.
You know you could probably keep your secret for at least a couple more months, but there was no point. Everything about surviving here depended on preparing; the sooner, the better, making all the difference between life and death.
Your palms turn clammy, another rush of bile creeping up your sternum as you run out the cabin door before it comes pouring out into the grass and feeling shaky after, you walk over to the rocking chair on the porch and take a seat, letting your head fall forward into your hands.
Being forced to confront the concept of your life ending more times than you would have ever imagined over the last ten years, you’d thought you’d be desensitized to it now… but this was a wholly different type of fear. Not so much the idea that you might actually die while going through with this, (which, over the course of the last few weeks has become a much more terrible, terrifying thought) but more the fear of doing it alone.
Nothing to guide you, no one to help in case something went wrong. You knew that women had been birthing children in their homes for centuries now, many of them in the same exact position you were in – but they had midwives and neighbors who came from afar to help. Other women around them who had gone through it before, advice handed down from generation to generation. Reassurance in the form of knowledge.
You would have someone, you reasoned with yourself, if you told him. Joel has always been there to take care of you, and you know this time wouldn’t be any different, but how much did he know about this? Even if he knew a little, that information was almost three decades old.
Another small part of you felt, even though you know he would never mean to make you feel this way, that you let him down. As if you could stop the science of your body and it betrayed you, or that you compromised this entire setup by foolishly ignoring the consequences of your actions. The last couple weeks a brutal reminder that you have been somewhat romanticizing this possibility, that alone carried its own humiliation.
Now faced with the confirmation of it, you were ashamed. And scared.
This odd mixture of feelings, just like the odd mix of sensations in your body, kept you from saying anything every time you had a chance. He wouldn’t be mad, you knew that, but your hormone addled brain kept conjuring images of his disappointed face and that was almost worse.
You press your fingers into your eyes, liquid warmth seeping through the digits as you think and you let the tears fall, taking deep, shaky inhales.
More than anything, you worried about fracturing the bridge that had been built between the two of you, especially given his past. He already lost one child, what if something happened to this one? His perceived failure almost ruined him the first time; a gaping, ten year wound that tore him apart and ravaged his mind and morals. Only now just beginning to heal, what will this do to him?
The thoughts are circular, never ending.
Will he even want this? Are you unknowingly forcing him into something he’s dreaded? You know he knew the far away consequences of your shared actions, but will he hate you? Will he resent the burden you are? The one you’re carrying, for the rest of his life?
How will you care for it? How will you feed it? Is there enough food prepared for something like this? How will you do this alone? What if it gets sick?
The worries expand and grow, filling your head with a relentless noise that makes you queasy. You think about telling him as soon as he gets back, and a cold sweat breaks along your hairline, running over your limbs.
Getting up, you lean over the railing and purge your nerves onto the ground below.
–
Standing in the kitchen, his back is to you and you take a moment to study the broad width of his shoulders. The dark curls that edge around the nape of his neck, the strength held in his solid frame. Cleaning his gun, he’s recounting his day in the woods to you and you are trying so hard to focus on his words, but you can’t. Not while the worries from this afternoon run rampant in your head, clouding everything.
Still, it’s the image of his back that convinces you to tell him: sturdy, solid, familiar. Those curls are the same you’ve felt in your hands for months: sliding between your fingers as you run through them at night, coiled tightly on the ground before they lifted into the air when you gave him a haircut last week, slicked smooth along his head after a swim.
You hand wash the clothes on that back, massage the tired, thick muscles of it, stroke the tanned, freckled skin in the sunlight. Dig your fingers into the meat of those shoulders, curl your legs around that torso, feel its broadness underneath you when you straddle him.
It’s guided you, carried you, the formidable strength in it has made this place a home, and the reassuring reminder of those things forces you to open your mouth.
“Joel, I –” you start, and he stops talking, turning his ear in your direction.
“Yea?” His attention is still on his task but he slows, and your gut churns with nerves and anxiety and new life. You take a deep breath and focus on his back; the one that you’ve been following for months, before you even knew who he was.
“I’m pregnant.”
He immediately stills, his frame locking up as his hands stop what he’s doing.
When he doesn’t move, you take a hesitant step closer, pushing through the urge to run into your bedroom and hide under the blankets. The air in the room is charged, your heart thundering in your chest and when you take another tiny step closer, he finally speaks.
“You’re sure?” he asks, resting his hands carefully on the edge of the counter.
“Yea,” you reply, letting out a breath and trying to ease the tension. “I mean, no test, obviously, but…”
He nods slowly, absorbing the information.
You stare at the back of his neck, willing him to turn around, but when he doesn’t, shame and embarrassment begin to bloom. Starting in your chest, the emotions take root and your fingers find the bottom of your sleeves and twist into the fabric, the familiar tingle of heat growing behind your eyes.
Even though you know that both of you had a hand in this, you find yourself apologizing.
“I’m sorry —“
As soon as the words leave your mouth, he turns quickly.
“Hey — stop. No, don’t say that. Come ‘ere.”
Shortening the distance between your bodies, his face is a worried expression so thoroughly earnest that you step right into his arms, tucking your face into his chest. He gathers you into his hold, his familiar scent of sweat and cotton and woods soothing your nerves, and you lean into him, holding tight.
“I told you, you don’t gotta say sorry. Not to me.” His arms squeeze tighter, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head. “I was just – I didn’t expect that. I was just thinkin’.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing these last couple weeks,” you admit. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. It’s just that I didn’t know for sure, and then I thought maybe I knew, and then I did know but I was so scared –”
“Shhh,” he soothes. “Hey, it’s okay. S’okay.”
Those words, said in his voice, bring fresh tears to your eyes, not realizing how much you needed to hear them until they were spoken out loud. Only by him, the only person you would accept them from because if he says it’s going to be okay, you know it to be true. He hasn’t failed you yet.
As if it only just occurs to him to check, he suddenly cups your face tenderly in his hands and makes you look up at him.
“You okay? You sick? How do you feel?”
“I’m….okay. I can’t tell if I’m more sick from the –” you stop short, unable to say the word out loud. Saying it makes it real and you aren’t ready for that yet. “I was pretty nervous to tell you.”
He says nothing, frowning. Searching your face for a moment, he nods as if he understands and brings you back to your place in his arms.
“I’m not mad at you, honey,” he murmurs. “If anything, you should be mad at me. I’m just as much at fault as you are. More, even.”
Your cheek staying pressed to the hollow of his shoulder, you frown. “How so?”
“I’m older than you are. I know better. I —“
“I know how sex works, Joel. I asked you for it, and I’m just as guilty —“
“I’m responsible for you.” His hand tilts your face up, so he can look you directly in the eyes and the statement is said with a finality that closes your mouth. “I gotta keep you safe — and there ain’t nothin’ safe about this.”
You feel your face start to crumple, your chest heavy with the shared knowledge.
“No,” you swallow, the edges of your mouth turning into something solemn. “No, there isn’t.”
His expression softens, his thumb stroking the fine hair at your temple and his voice softens too.
“It’ll be okay, honey. I’m right here.” His hold on your face firms, his eyes silently willing you to understand. “I would never, never let anything bad happen to you. Not ever.”
You both know that’s not a promise that he can make, but the words are like a raft in a storm; you cling to them, holding on with every fiber of your being.
“You understand?” he asks and you nod, the constant weight on your chest these last few weeks temporarily dissolving.
Your nod reassuring him, he guides your face back to his chest and with the weight of his broad hand sliding soothingly down your spine, you loosen under his touch.
Each lost in your own thoughts, the two of you stand there, wound tightly together.
–
It’s been hours, and he still can’t sleep.
A light breeze catches the curtain and the fabric waves lazily, your body still beside him in the dark room. You took some soothing to come down from the confession earlier, and he stayed by you until you went to sleep: tucked you into his side on the couch, wound himself around you in bed, took you apart only after he got your okay.
He lays naked, nothing but a thin sheet covering his form but it might as well be a weighted blanket with how his chest feels. It tightens and burns, a crushing pressure settling on top of it. Every breath becomes a pained struggle for air as he tries to stay still so you don’t wake up.
He doesn’t know anything about this.
Hazy memories: partial pieces of advice, parenting books and pediatrician visits and the day Sarah was born. Everything blends together in rapid succession: her sharp, bright wail, the team of doctors, her impossibly tiny body, featherlight in his hold.
He pictures the same thing in this room, but instead of bright lights and beeping machines, all he can picture is blood. So much blood.
Your face, twisted in pain.
Your face, crying.
Your pretty face, pleading for him to help you.
He tries to pull in air, his hand coming to push against the plane of his chest as the anxiety floods and gathers under his sternum, catching on and coating the muscles there until he’s locked in place. A cold sweat breaks out over his skin and he can barely hear the rapid, shallow pants of his own breathing under the rush of blood through his ears.
His vision tunnels, the walls of the room disappearing and self loathing creeps into his mind, as dark as the night outside.
He did this to you. You wanted it, but he knew better. He was supposed to protect you.
He closes his eyes tight and swallows hard, willing the panic away.
If something happens to you, it’s going to be his fault. He’s going to fail you, like he failed her. Fail the both of you.
Reaching out to grasp the sheet at his side as a means to anchor himself, he brushes the back of his hand against your hip and he opens his eyes, turning to face your back. Faced away from him, the soothingly slow rise and fall of your breathing catches his gaze and focusing on the pattern of it, he forces himself to match it.
In and out. In and out.
His hand splays over the slope of your waist, curving around your side and the warm give of your flesh reassures him. His vision clears, the softened edges of your shadowed form bringing him back to the room and the white noise filling his head fades, the tension in his chest slowly easing. He flexes his hold on you, his thumb sliding across your bare skin.
You turn in your sleep, rolling over to face him and lifting his hand just enough to let you move, he rests it back on your side. His thumb drags across your petal soft skin, his eyes dropping down to watch and before he can stop himself, the back of his knuckles brush delicately against the natural swell of your stomach.
He remembers the fear, but looking down at his hand, something blooms deep within that pit beneath his sternum. Something else, something that’s been lying dormant for years, but when he sees his hand against your bare stomach, it takes root and pierces through the surface of the panic.
Hesitantly, he lets himself feel those things, in the safety of the dark room.
Anticipation. Joy. Happiness, contentment. Love, that he’d never imagined he’d feel again.
He feels a version of it when he looks at you right now — a deeper version of it, a calmer one. A steady, anchoring emotion, one that he fought in the beginning but now has given in and gotten used to it.
The love that he has for you planted within your body, taking root.
His thumb drags over your belly button, and you shift in your sleep.
“There’s nothing there yet,” you mumble, the words a soft slur in the darkness. “Go to sleep, baby.”
He hums lowly, his hand splaying to cover your stomach. Fingertip to thumb, it spans from hip to hip, but when you shift again next to him, he reluctantly pulls it away.
Gathering you as gently as he can in his arms, he tilts his chin down to catch your mouth with his. Sleep warm and soft, you kiss him back and his arm winds around your waist, tugging you close.
With your belly cradled between the two of you, he falls asleep.
#joel miller/reader#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller/you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller tlou#tlou fanfic#pedro pascal character#pedro pascal character fanfiction
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GAME FEATURES
THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST
There are SO MANY features in The Sims 3 that I keep learning more and more each day, so I decided to start keeping track of all of them. Some of these I've known myself, but most of them come from Reddit and TS Forum.
I'll keep on updating everytime I find new things.
Features are under the cut!
Gameplay
Careers/University/Skills
You can sign autographs as a rock star by clicking on a random building (bookstore, theater, stadium, etc.) and make cash. You can only do it once a week and have them perform the action yourself (similar to the vaccination event you do as a doctor).
If you send a Sim to college, you can get a financial aid grant every 24 hours. Just click on the administration building and select “apply for financial aid”. The better your grades, the more money you’ll get.
Traveling to the past with ambition’s time machine, random events will change your household’s present. (Change careers or add family members).
Sims who reach the highest criminal career level glow red. This is bad for relationships with Sims with Good, Friendly, and Family Oriented traits. Having maxed out the Charisma skill will mostly prevent it, or even throw “Jar of Friendship” potion at them. Although it is good for relationships with Sims with Evil and Insane traits.
When some rectangles of one (or more) skill is highlighted, it’s because it’s the requirement for the Sim job.
If you protest about low wages, you have the possibility of increasing the wages of everyone.
Parent Sims can have a wish for their kids to have specific careers.
You will get gifts for working on your job for 5 years.
Singer Sims could sell their albums to other Sims.
If you click on your Sim work building when they’re at work, you can demand a raise. but if their mood is bad or their relationship with their boss is bad, this can get them fired. You can also go out with your boss and ask for a promotion.
Sims can die while you’re lifeguarding.
Your Sim can get caught if they call in fake sick.
Sims in the medical career can follow up with patients by calling them.
You can fry beetles if you are an evil private investigator (if you have a magnifying glass).
Your Sim can be an evil politician.
Ghost hunters can “appease ghosts” at the graveyard.
Lifeguard and firefighter sims can “demonstrate CPR” on another Sim as a romantic action.
You can select what type of sandcastle to build if you have a high enough skill.
Your Sim can get tattooed and tattoo other Sims. It’s a hidden skill that, if low, tattoos will look like child drawings. You can also get the tattoo removed.
Maids
Some maids actually don’t do their work, you have to fire them so a new one comes up, and is, hopefully, better.
Most Maids will have at least neat and/or perfectionists, brave and flirty, or charismatic traits. Some Maids are also Kleptomaniacs. Exceptions to this are: Delicia Hoover from Bridgeport and Simon Swift from Barnacle Bay, they are Slobs, which means they will never actually clean your House.
Maids will quit if they see Bonehilda in your house.
Toddler/Child/Teen
Kids will gain skills if someone reads them skill books to sleep.
When a witch sim does their homework they accidentally get it done all at once by magic. They grab the blue notebook, but the green bar completes itself immediately and they look confused for a second. In case they fail to do homework by magic, their whole body gets burnt.
When children and teens are asleep, you can click on them to select a dream, and then they’ll wake up with a moodlet related to it. While the moodlet is active, you can get a special moodlet if their dream comes true. While still sleeping, the game will notify if the dream turned into a nightmare and they will get a negative moodlet.
Toddlers and Kids can build hidden skills with certain toys.
You can put kids in time out and they will stand in a corner crying.
Toys can go on the crib.
Babies can get diaper rash if using the changing station from The Sims 3 Store.
If you take a child of the bouncer, they get bratty and mad.
Children can hold a bear while talking to an adult.
Kids can read the newspapers to see what baked goods sell better.
When you get robbed children can get the lifetime wish to become a cop or a thief. They can also want to become a doctor after seeing someone dying or getting a new sibling, become a musician after seeing someone jam, become a creature robot cross-breeder after seeing a ghost. become a firefighter after a house fire, become a magician after seeing a sim use their magic, become a singer while singing with their imaginary friend.
Child witch Sims have stabilizers on their brooms.
Kids can get sick from prison food.
Your Sim can chat with toddlers through their Teddy Bears.
Parents can play with their toddlers in the ocean.
Children inherit the effects of some Genie Wishes.
Your Sim can get detention if they slack off in school.
You can create custom and random baby DNA at the hospital.
Children can fight teens.
Parents will have a higher friendship level with their baby with an at home birth than a hospital birth.
Traits
Inappropriate sims can take sponge baths from a sink.
Your Sim can have a hidden trait called “advanced art training” earned by completing the “Skilled Painting” opportunity acquired through working in the art appraiser career. Sims with this trait can paint paintings of any skill level (0 to 9), instead of paintings appropriate only to their painting skill level.
Bookworm sims can join the book club by computer and get mailed books.
Unlucky Sims can’t die. But they can die of transmutation and leave a golden statue.
Party Animals Sims can dance on top of the counter.
Mermaids with the Evil trait can spawn sharks.
Sims with the Green Thumb Trait can Revive Dead Plants.
Brave Sims can ask for a raise.
Frugal Sims will cut coupons from the newspaper.
Daredevil Sims can “play with fire”, and will stick their hands in the fire and pull them back out until their fun motive is full.
If your Sim has the hydrophobic trait they cannot Woohoo or Try for Baby in the shower.
Being in Bot mode (Bot fan trait) will keep your sim from aging.
Sims with the daredevil trait can eat bugs.
Sims who have the childish trait have the option to read a toddler’s book like any other. Others will get the message “Sim can only read this book to a toddler.”
The Good trait Sims could accuse of being meanspirited.
Sims with the Good trait can donate to charity.
Sims with the “Never Nude” trait shower in their bathing clothes.
Moodlets
If you click on a negative need moodlet, the game will have the sim do the activity to fill that need.
If you gift your child Sims too many times in a row, they get a “spoiled” moodlet.
The creepy magical gnome (the one that kinda looks like a devil) will sometimes spawn next to your Sims bed at night with glowing red eyes. Your Sims can get a creeped out moodlet.
Buy a baby, toddler, or child a teddy bear because it gives them a special moodlet when they sleep while having it in their inventory.
You get a moodlet when you have a blog and something from the blog’s theme happens in your Sims real life.
The “rejuvenated” and “completely at ease” moodlet prevents the horrified noodlet from exploring the catacombs.
Sims can make snow angels face down, and when they do, they get the frosty face moodlet.
Mourning over the dead Sim’s gravestone would reduce the negative effect of “Mourning” moodlet.
If you send too many secret admirers texts to the wrong Sim, they will receive a negative “being stalked” moodlet.
You get a moodlet saying “Brrrr! This is cold!” when your Sim sits on ice furniture.
When swimming in the snow you will get a moodlet saying “Polar Bear Club”.
Romance/Woohoo
You can woohoo or make out behind the scenes at the theater hall if you have two romantically involved Sims visit at the same time. It works for any rabbit hole you can visit (town hall, military base, science lab…).
Using the Time Machine to Try for a Baby in the past will result in a biological teen showing up later that day.
Try Online Dating on the computer.
If your Sim is dating someone and that someone is dating someone else, you can tell them they are cheating.
Sims gets a fertility boost after getting a romantic massage.
Sims can get kicked out of theaters for woohooing.
You can give a cinnamon kiss when you flavored your food with it.
If a Sim marries a plumbot the creator of said plumbot officially becomes their parent-in-law.
If your Sim feels betrayed from an unfaithful marriage they can rebound kiss.
Money
To make money, go to the science skill tree until you have enough skill to take samples from gems, and then clone them using the science station.
Adopt a bunch of dogs or have a werewolf Sim and make them hunt.
Go through the trash of wealthy households.
Experiment on bugs until you get a plasma bug then sample and clone it. A cat with high-level Hunting skills will also catch them occasionally.
Master the Martial Arts skill and break space rocks on the board breaker and get lots of valuable gems.
Paintings appreciate in value over time and are the best sold when the Sim dies.
Miner holes are treasure chests. You can also make several holes into a cave system.
If you have a philosopher’s stone, you can turn pretty much anything into gold. You run the risk of your sim turning into gold and therefore dying. However, if you have a death flower in your inventory you don’t die and you get to keep the gold statue of your sim - making tones of money because of it.
Pets
If you’re cooking food and have a pet, you can throw scraps to them that they will eat.
You can have a rock as a pet.
You can breed fish.
If a pet bowl is outside, any other animal can eat from it.
Gnomes can encourage and discourage cats and dogs on your lot.
Your Sim can pet their dog while they are lying on the couch.
Horses will eat and destroy the newspaper.
When pet birds die, their bodies don’t disappear, they lay there until cleaned up.
Two small dogs can eat from the automatic feeder at once.
Pets can eat garden plants.
Dogs can howl and cats can meow along with instruments.
Your Sim can drop a fish from your inventory onto the ground and their cat can eat it.
If your Sim dog uses the guard-the-house interaction, it will actually bark at any strays that happen to come by your door.
Foals will get a negative moodlet if their mother isn’t around. However, if a Sim gives lots of love and feeds it when it’s hungry, in a couple of days the moodlet changes to a positive one saying that it’s not missing the mother anymore because of all the care you provided
Death
There are only two graveyards in the game with fully unique and custom graves, and no generic ones. They are the graveyards of Sunset Valley and Riverview. Appaloosa Plains is unique in that it has a pet graveyard.
Burning, electrocution, and starvation are by far the most common causes of death among the preexisting graves, with old age being surprisingly common.
If you make a ghost Sim as a playable Sim and have them paint, all their paintings will get the Simoleon bonus to value from the painter being dead.
Your pets can save your Sim from death.
You can have funerals when a Sim from your household dies.
Small tombstone: Dies before 75,000 lifetime happiness points. Medium tombstone: Dies between 75,000 and 149,000 lifetime happiness points. Large tombstone: Dies at 150,000 and above lifetime happiness points.
Sims Graves have different emblems on them depicting how they died; flames, hands reaching out of water, shark jaws, etc.
Expansions
You can discover islands on Island Paradiso.
Isla Paradiso is full of hidden chests on secret islands.
Sunlight charm spell changes a wolf to their human form.
Some Supernatural portraits & paintings (marked with purple border in Build Buy) change during a Full Moon.
Vampires can raid the hospital and the grocery store.
Misc
When out in the ocean, the Kraken can appear. It can attack and sink your Sims small houseboat. It can spawn into Sunset Valley & Lucky Palms if you go out to the furthest point of the water.
If you have a microphone from university life in your inventory, your Sim can greet other Sims by shouting in their face.
You can plant cheese and eggs.
You can upgrade umbrellas.
You can store elixirs in the fridge.
You can waterski.
Sims can mess up an alchemy spell and become a toad.
Birthday cakes can catch on fire.
There are types of objects that aren’t in the catalog that you can make in the toy machine.
If your sims mess up the weather stone, it can rain flowers.
You can open a tab at a bar and if you can’t pay it, they will add it to your bills.
Aliens can steal space rocks from the science lab.
If you steal someone’s clothes after skinny dipping, they’re too mortified to go again.
If your sims are on fire, they can put themselves out in a shower or bathtub. They also put themselves out in dive wells from World Adventures and if you have a shower in a can.
You can upload your Sim sketches and paintings to the digital frames.
Sims can send thank you notes after receiving wedding gifts.
You can place snack bowls on island countertops.
You can announce aptitude test results to other sims.
Not all adult sims get a Midlife Crisis and there are variables involved.
You can go to therapy during a midlife crisis.
Sims who have body hair can get it waxed.
If you place a professional bar at a gym, with a mixologist, they can make protein shakes for your sims and a weird wheat grass-type drinks, graveyards have the tombstone topper and others. The library has basic drinks but one is “alien brain” and is a skill drink and stacks on the library moodlet and the supernatural bonus, so reading skill books takes way less time.
Sim can free criminals from jail with the mining tool.
Celebrities can’t be abducted by aliens.
You can throw herbs at the fireplace, and it will give you a moodlet that varies depending on what herb you have.
Selling objects in the Consignment store is something you can improve over time.
Your Sim can sue people for slander at City Hall when you’re a celebrity and they spread rumors about you.
You can get arrested for harvesting someone else's plants.
Details
The stones at the bottom of the fishbowl change depending on what you put in it.
Artistic, Can’t Stand Art, Computer Whiz, Evil, Genius, Gloomy, Insane, Neurotic, and Virtuoso Sims all have different and unique painting styles.
Fish can spontaneously breed if you put them in fish tanks.
If you are being robbed, and the police come to put the burglar in handcuffs by their car, while they search your house, you can click on the burglar to set them free. They will even thank you for doing so, promising to make it up to you, although they never do.
Cats can jump onto Sim’s lap and they can pet them.
You can drag the greeting card into a big digital frame.
You can get a “wrong number” call.
Clones will be attracted to the cloned Sim.
Cats can sleep on newspapers.
Sims can get a dirtbag reputation if caught cheating. If caught a lot of times, they get a slimeball reputation.
You can “Play in Sand” in the spots where you painted the terrain with sand.
If you have a big dog and a puppy or a cat and a kitten, they can cuddle together in a big pet bed.
Different bars will serve different food depending on the lot type. You can get onion rings, nachos, and hot wings at the normal lower-tier bars but olive platters and shrimp cocktails are reserved for fancy places like exclusive lounges, vampire lounges, and art galleries.
Sims can get sick eating bar food at the lower-end bars.
You can preview a house before you buy it by clicking on the magnifying glass.
Sims can chat on the bunkbed and interact on the playpen.
Try using “Disco tags” in the cheats menu (Ctrl+Shift+C) and go to the map view.
Sims can read lying on the beach towel.
You can style the time machine.
Bonehilda will fight robbers.
Hydrophobic sims won’t accept a fishbowl as a gift.
Simbots have 0’s and 1’s instead of zzz’s.
Male Sims can leave the toilet sit up.
Sunglasses have the reflex of the world.
There are 6 types of snowman - classic, evil, tragic clown, hockey, Grim Reaper, and alien.
With no couch, sims will play video games sitting on the ground.
There’s a city in the background of the university world.
Sims can have different sitting positions.
When your Sim spouse dies and comes back to life, they come back divorced.
Horses can ride boats.
When Plumbots pee themselves, oil is what gets on the floor.
If you place a rubber duck on the bathtub, Sims play with it while they bathe. If you place “World’s Brew Bubble Bath”, they will have a bubble bath.
You can change the colors of the street lights.
You get a popup when a pregnant Sim enters a costume party (it reveals the number of hours left for the pregnancy to end).
Store items come with new skills.
You can expand the inventory and relationship tab by dragging it.
Your Sim only earns LHP when your Sims mood is in the “bubble” on the Mood Meter,
If a Sim’s mood drops all the way to the bottom (-100), the Sim may simply refuse to do anything, even if directed to by the player. You can send them on vacation but if they become depressed on their vacation, it will be necessary to send them home.
The volcano in Sunlit Tides can erupt.
Ants crawl in and out of a public picnic basket carrying food.
Every time a Sims learning the Painting skill sells a painting directly from the easel there is a 20% chance that the painting will replace a wall decoration item in the local art gallery.
You can spy on neighbors with tab mode.
Your Sims can get bitten by mosquitos.
Sims can chat with other sims while cooking.
Friends can bring their kids over to play with yours.
Resort Staff NPCs sweep the floors of the resort.
Sims can get nauseous from foods with herbs.
Sims with the Asian Culture trait use chopsticks to eat rather than knives and forks.
Ghosts can swim in swimming pools but you can’t see their body under the surface of the water.
You can double-click on the save file you want to play on the main menu screen and it will start the game.
When you have the cheapest washing machine and your Sim tries to stop it from shaking, you will get a “Victory Over Washer” moodlet.
Magic gnomes spawn at random when you do related activities.
The trash bed in buydebug makes you stinky.
If you put your bird cage outside it might fly away.
The doors on cars matter, if a car has 2 doors, 2 Sims will get in, if a car has 4 doors, 4 (or 5) Sims get in. Also, babies and toddlers will be held by their parents inside the car.
You can wax your Sims, and when you do, their body hair will appear again after a while.
If lightning strikes vehicles during a storm, it will completely destroyed them.
If a Sim is performing an interaction related to a trait, the trait will be highlighted.
You can get a graduation gnome that “hides in your books” during university classes.
Create-a-style
You can drag the whole palette to other objects so they get the same style.
You can swap patterns by dragging one of them onto the dividing line next to the other.
You can randomize patterns + colors by right-clicking on the swatches.
Right-clicking on the color above the color wheel, the game will give you a more appealing color (a different shade) than the one you have selected.
CAS
Right-clicking the icons at the top of CAS randomizes that part of clothing you are on.
You can have hairstyles in different outfits.
Build-Buy
Plants change in size as you place them.
You can make custom object collections.
If you typed in the cheat moveobjects on you can move sims by just clicking on them (on Build Buy mode).
You can set seasonal decor on your home lot to auto-change if you place the debug marker and then decorate accordingly.
If you press alt when building a foundation, you can change the height of it.
You can paint ceilings.
Mods
If you play with NRAAS Story Progression, no vampires or celebs will be in your town unless you specifically say you want them.
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Chapter 4: Lost in history /// Azriel X F!Reader
Summary: The research for a way to send her back started, but they come to the conclusion that there's only one person that can help them now.
Word Count: 2,1K
Warnings: Just our babygirl Y/N being sad.
Notes: We have some Elriel content and i admit that it feels werid writing about them but soon things will change hehehehe
Main Masterlist
Worlds Apart Masterlist
“This is all I have that mentions other worlds.” The red headed female from yesterday's training spoke, her red hair was covered by a blue hoodie, a stone resting peacefully against her forehead. Just like Petrah wore too.
“Thank you..” She motioned for the female so she could tell her name.
“Gwyneth, but you can call me Gwyn.” She nodded.
“Thanks, Gwyn.” The female smiled at her, before spinning on her heels and leaving her alone, walking away.
That morning, Rhysand had appeared again, she had to hold herself as she stared at those violet eyes, he wasn’t like Maeve, he already proved that. He had told her that they were already looking for answers, ways of getting her back to her world. She had asked him how she could help, and that’s how she ended down there.
The priestesses walked around in silence, their dresses rustling against the marble floors, books and more books adorned the walls, the smell of dust and parchment filled the cavernous space. Aelin Galathynius would love a library like that one. The two had discovered a common interest in books during the time she spent in Orynth.
The dream of creating their own book club felt like a very distant memory now. She was rather fond of the Queen, Aelin was just amazing, and she saw her for what she truly was, a survivor, just like Y/N. So young having to deal with all of that, she admired her strength, the courage to wake up everyday and fight for the world she wanted.
She shook her head, thinking about it wouldn’t help, and she would just be sad, more than she already was. So she stuck her nose on the pages and read everything she could about other worlds.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
She closed the last book with an annoyed growl. Nothing. Absolutely nothing helpful on those pages. She wanted to bang her head against the nearest wall, the whole fucking day spent in theories, nothing concrete in how to access those said worlds.
“Nothing?” A deep voice sounded, she turned her head, Cassian was standing there. “I won’t say we're having much more success than you.” She took a deep breath, getting up and stretching her muscles.
“I sat here for hours and not a single thing was useful. For a library that big, someone would think you have more information than that.” She started to follow the male.
“Thank you, I've been saying that for centuries.” He led the way towards the endless stairs that would take them back to the surface.
“How old are you exactly?” His head turned to the side just enough so he could see her from his peripheral vision.
“I’m 539 years old.” She stopped in her tracks. “I know it sounds old for such a young female like you.” He turned fully to her.
“How old do you think I am?” A smile danced on her lips.
“I don’t know, 22?” She then laughed, walking past him, starting to go upstairs to get out of that library.
“Thank you, but I'm 105.” She explained and Cassian gasped loudly.
“You’re not.” She nodded her head.
“I am. Witches tend to age very slowly.” She emphasised the world very, and Cassian found himself intrigued. Obviously they also aged slowly, but he didn't imagine the same happened in her world as well.
The rest of the way was silent, as they made their way towards the House of Wind, as Nesta had introduced yesterday. The house responsible for her warm bath and fresh clothes this morning as well. She had thanked the house quietly, but Azriel had caught the faint whispers, so used to them, thinking it was very sweet of her.
More people had joined the dinner, the smell of food lingered in the air, conversations floated around and she found herself surrounded by more strangers. A female holding a baby that looked like a younger version of Nesta. A black male with white hair, sitting by the side of a small female with silver eyes and short hair.
She greeted all of them, introducing herself and waiting for them to do the same. The male was called Varian and Amren was by his side. Feyre and Nyx were High Lady and heir to the night court. They all looked at her with curiosity, everyone seemed to look at her like this lately, even when she was back at her home.
“So you are the pretty female that the skies blessed us with.” Amren spoke. She reminded her of Lin, with her narrow eyes and deep black hair.
“Amren, will you keep what I told you in secret, please?” Morrigan exclaimed, sipping on her wine. The smaller female just rolled her eyes, waving her hand in dismissal.
“Well, I guess so.” She poked a piece of lamb. Her goblet filled with wine but she craved something else. She craved blood.
“Hopefully you had more success than us.” Feyre spoke, her sweet voice sounding like a fresh breeze. The baby slept clutched to her chest. Y/N knew she was staring at him, but she didn’t care, her memories drifting to a distant time, where a baby just as tiny as him never had the chance to live, and she paid a bitter price for her actions.
“I.. hmm…” She cleared her throat, everyone was waiting for an answer, their eyes glued to her. Her scar throbbed with the attention and she had to hold back from flinching with the pain that pulsates on the skin. “No, I have found nothing useful.” She concluded, sipping on the wine, making a frown at the taste, blood tasted way better.
“Not fond of wine?” Amren mocked, like she knew exactly what she wanted.
“I just like something a little bit different, that’s all.” She didn’t want to disrespect them in their home, Asterin would be disappointed if she did so. So she downed the wine with the food, pretended to participate in their conversations and watched as the night progressed out of the window.
“We need to check Koschei.” Rhysand spoke, this caught her attention and she started to listen again. “It’s been weeks, we need to know what he’s been up to.” The name caused her blood to run cold, she didn’t know what, but something about this creature left her on alert.
“Who is Koschei?” She asked, their heads turning to her, Rhysand shared a look with his mate, like they were having a silent conversation before he spoke again.
“He’s a powerful sorcerer bound to a lake.” He started.
“For now.” Morrigan corrected.
“Yes, for now. We want to defeat him before he becomes an even bigger problem than he already is.” She studied them, how the whole table felt tense with the conversation, like they were afraid of this thing, something told Y/N that she should feel afraid too.
“Maybe he knows something.” Nesta started. “He’s from another world as well.”
“What? Do you want to go there and ask him how to open a portal to another world?” Amren mocked and Nesta gave her a hurtful look.
“No, but maybe we can find a book about him, someone that knows his history or something like that.” She defended herself.
“Nesta is right.” Cassian spoke, hand squeezing her thigh under the table. “We’re already looking for a way to free Vassa, we can ask Lucien to try and help with this too.”
“That is a great idea. I’ll send him a letter, it’s already time for him to visit us.” Feyre chimed in, her blue eyes sparking with happiness at the thought of seeing Lucien again, it’s been months since he left with the Band of Exiles. “You’re going to love Lucien.” She turned to Y/N.
“If you think so.” Meeting more people, she was so excited for that. With a loud yawn, she excused herself and retired to her room, she had to wake up early to go for a ride on Meraxes, she could hear the winds calling for her.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
“I swear there’s nothing going on.” Azriel promised, but Elain still refused to hear him. After their argument the day before, she had come looking for him in the training field, just to find her glued to his back, and Azriel allowing it as she claimed.
“What I saw yesterday would love to disagree with you.” She poked her untouched food, they were in a reserved table on a restaurant across the Rainbow, he just wanted that argument to be over.
“It was just training, my flower.” He begged, rubbing his hand over his face in an attempt to calm himself, he didn’t know what else he could say to convince her. “You chose me and I chose you, despite everything, that female cannot change that.”
If he only knew how wrong he was. She looked at him with that spark in her eyes, hands clutching his scarred ones and bringing to her pink lips in a sweet kiss.
“You are right, she’s not better than me and she never will.” His shadows moved as if they disagreed, they were always quiet in Elain’s presence and he never knew why. They didn’t darted towards her like they did with Y/N more times than he could count in the short period she was there.
“Yeah, let’s just eat and go home, please.” He begged and Elain nodded.
The rest of the dinner felt bitter against his lips, his head throbbed and when he rested his hands on her lower back to lead the way home, it felt wrong, so wrong. He swallowed the feelings and kept trying to convince himself that he chose this, this is what he wanted. Three sisters to three brothers or whatever.
Elain’s hands cupped his cheek, and she lifted her body to the tip of her toes, kissing him lightly on the lips, saying her good night to him, disappearing into her room at the River House.
He closed the door behind him, flying towards the House of Wind in a starless sky, dark clouds covering the beautiful night. When he landed on the balcony, he slowly stalked towards his room, but his shadows urged him away from it, towards the library.
From the open arch on the stone wall, he could see her, a tiny nightgown covering her body, some strands falling loose from her braid. A book clutched in hands as she sat against a window, eyes glued to the sky.
“Couldn’t sleep?” He said, his voice hoarse. She turned to him, those beautiful eyes penetrating his soul. She closed her book.
“There’s a storm coming.” She raised her finger, pointing outside.
“How do you know?” Stars still littered the sky from where he could see.
“I can hear it's calling.” Azriel nodded. She had a defeated expression on her face, all he wanted to do was to soothe the furrowed eyebrows and tell her everything would be fine. “Do you think I'll ever find my way home?” Tears glistened in the moonlight, burning her eyes.
“I don’t know.” He answered with honesty, he didn’t have the answer for that, and as much as he wanted to help her, something inside him didn’t want her to go back. He shushed that part of him, hiding them in the shadows of his heart.
“I wonder if they miss me.” She looked outside again, ever since Asterin died, she felt like she lost her space in the world, like she didn’t belong anywhere, if she disappeared would anyone notice? Would they find a way to get her back? All those questions and self doubt weighed on her soul, crushing her until she couldn’t breathe. She blinked the tears away.
“I’m sure they do.” She could hear the pity in his tone, and she hated that, she knew that if she looked at him he would have that look on his face, the one everyone had when they looked at her. Manon, Fenrys, Aelin, Shearah, Elide and all of them, the same pitiful glare reserved just for her. She didn’t want to face that here as well.
So she got up, leaving the book behind and walked past him, as fast as the winds, but his warm hand caught her arm, forcing her to stop. Her head whipped back, eyes locking with his golden ones.
“I’m so sorry if I offended you.” His voice was gentle, calming.
“I don’t need your pity.” She barked in anger.
“I wouldn’t dare.” He promised, and she just nodded, freeing herself from his grip, going to her room, locking the door and throwing herself under the blankets. The skin of her arm felt warm where he had touched. And that night, after tossing and tuning for what felt like an eternity, she dreamed about that male again.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
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I have come to pour some Monsters & Mayhem Rook brainrot in your inbox. Hope that's okay!
Rook is a freelance bounty hunter who most people find deeply unsettling. He never accepts payment, only picks up specific targets which interest him, and never fails his mission. It doesn't matter if the target hasn't been sighted in two years, after 3 days of taking the request, Root is at the commissioner's house at 3am (the witching hour) on the dot, a large, bloodied burlap sack behind him, and a heart in his left hand as the obligatory proof of death. He offers to show the corpse as well (waving at the sack behind him) if they wish, but no-one ever takes him up on the offer. What with his polished smile that lacks any warmth and his green gaze that seems to be looking into your very soul. The bloodstains on his clothes and his uncanny ability to pick up on the very thought that happens to be crossing your mind at that moment does not help matters either.
In truth, Rook is a Reaper. At least, this is what the MC comes to suspect. MC is runs a bakery in the village - something they come to regret on a daily basis because being a baker means waking up at 4am so you can start the ovens by 5am and begin your prep for the day. But MC likes making pasteries, truly, and it was between this or their parents marrying them off to that stuck up noble in the next town over who only really wanted someone to make him strawberry tarts day in and day out.
The first time MC meets Rook is when they're shuffling around on the shop floor at 4:30am, arranging some of yesterdays leftover treats that had been stored in the ice box, when they become suddenly aware that someone is at the window, watching them. They turn and there is Rook, plastered on the window watching with such rapt fascination. Perhaps MC should have had a more adverse reaction, considering the time, and the bloodstains on his clothes, and such, but it was too early for that. Instead, they crack open the door and offer him a small tart to say "please promptly leave - you're getting smudges on the glass". The way Rook starts marvelling at it like he's never seen one before, and especialy when he inists on MC eating a bite first "to show how one might savour them", starts to raise suspicions that he might not be human. He starts dropping by every morning at the same ungodly hour, and asks for pasteries in exchange for whatever strange (and rare) ingredient he's picked up, and MC even lets him inside to eat them. There's something endering in the way he can wax poetic about a piece of carrot cake.
Through general gossip from the mouths of customers, and Rook's own monologies, MC does piece together that yes, Rook is that bounty hunter, and that yes, he's most likely some sort of Reaper. He's a hunter by profession, and his last name is Hunt for gods sake, and he talks about tracking people down by "the light of one's soul" and whatnot. But MC remains largely unbothered. Rook may be strange, unhinged, and probably not human, but he's also oddly sweet. He's interesting to listen to, and it's refreshing to have a conversation with someone who isn't looking down their nose at you for being unmarried at your age.
Speaking of which, as rumors start to go around about that bounty hunter visting your bakery, another proposal from the tart-loving noble ends up on your doorstep. Except it's less of a proposal and more of a "the agreement between Duchess Roseharts and the family head, concerning the union between you and Riddle Roseharts, has been reached. This is a curstesy call for any last objections, before final arrangements are made. Only objections with a basis in the kingdom's law will be considered".
And so, because you've never been very good at making up lies, and because Rook seems to scare everyone, and because Rook has, technically, proposed to you before (many times, which you never took seriously, in his long winded speeches of praise about your baking), you write in response: I object to this union, on the basis that I have already accepted a marriage proposal from Rook Hunt.
Chaos then ensues.
Ooooh this is top-tier brain rot indeed. Reaper Rook? I'm here for it. Also, like, I just recently watched the new Puss in Boots movies and like, THAT sort of reaper? That kind of death? And Rook having that sort of presence and terror factor?
But oh my goodness, this is all marvelous. I love Rook and his oddities so much, and he's been slipping more and more into all the other character's lil stories. But ahhh, Reaper!Rook, Reaper!Rook... You sound very lovely. Excuse my while I go brain rot over this
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Love Song for a Vampire Pt.37
Pairing(s):Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Witch!OC
Warnings: none
Words: 3029
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 38 Part 39
Kate's scream could be heard past the tall trees that surrounded the Denali coven's home. Reaching the ears of Tanya and Eleazar who had been out hunting to replenish their stock of blood that would last them the rest of the month. Briefly exchanging a troubled look, they drop their equipment and dash off back to the house where they found Kate on her knees in the living room. She was begging Carmen to wake up. The large bay window of their living room was smashed, glass looking like snow against their hardwood floors. Eleazar collapsed onto his knees beside Kate.
"I walked away only for a second to answer a phone call. . ." Kate tells the other two. Slowly, Carmen was coming to as her pale eyelids flutter with life. "Irina must have taken that opportunity to get out. I'm sorry."
Tanya helps her sister up and maneuvers her to the couch while Carmen's mate helps her rouse to consciousness. "It's not your fault." Hastily thinking, Tanya calculates the amount of time Kate had been away and up to when she came upon Carmen. She didn't want to acknowledge out loud that Irina was probably far away now. Mentally she curses knowing that they were now in deep shit with Irina's escape. In a flash she has her phone in her hands and taps Edward's phone number. They had to get this situation under control as soon as possible.
Supporting his mate, Eleazar has Carmen in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder as her black eyes struggle to focus. "Irina?"
"Sshhh, it's okay." He hushes her, gently rocking the both of them to and fro. "We'll get her back."
Her hand goes up to her head and she lets out a groan. "I can't believe this. . . how humiliating."
Unable to sit still, Kate stands up. "I'm going to start tracking her."
Over her shoulder, Tanya reminds her to keep her phone on her in case she comes across anything. Not bothering to use the front door, Kate hops out of the gaping hole in the window that Irina had made and becomes but a golden flash as her legs run at the speed of light. Finally the dial tone is cut off and Tanya hears Edward's voice in a greeting. No time for that. "We have a problem, Ed. Irina's gotten out."
She could hear his sharp inhale. "When? Kate called me just a few minutes ago."
"It happened within that time frame. Irina overpowered Carmen and knocked her out. Kate went after her right now but I don't think Irina is in the area anymore." If her heart was still functioning like a usual human, it would be frantically beating behind her breastbone. This was not good. There were two places that Irina could be heading toward: the Volturi or Forks. Maybe she planned to take matters into her own hands and find where the wolves were. "Send an alarm to the wolves that they need to be on the lookout for her just in case. I don't know what she's thinking anymore but if she so happens to go into your territory, you might be able to detect her before anyone else and warn the others."
"Got it. . . is Carmen okay?" He needed to get out to warn the wolves, but he was also concerned for Carmen.
From where she'd wandered off, Tanya looks back to the living room where Eleazar had situated Carmen on the couch before he too was zipping out of the window. "She's okay. Might have a headache, but it'll pass as will the guilt."
They say curt goodbyes. Tanya shoves her phone back into her pocket as her loud strides clacking back to the rest of her family. "Alright. You guys can stay here if you want to, but I'm gonna join Kate and see if we can find any tracks to where Irina may have gone."
Carmen is already staggering to her feet and giving her head a shake to clear her brain. "I'm fine. Lets go." Her mate is skeptical but has never been one to protest his wife when she has her mind made up. He simply follows her lead, his hands ready if she was still feeling lightheaded and fainted.
Alone, Tanya takes this moment to let out a distressed sigh and rub her hand against her forehead. They were given one job: to keep a sharp eye on Irina. Disappointment is not the strongest emotion she felt then and there. Shame floods her as she was unable to make Edward proud of her and her coven. Acknowledging that it would take a while for her romantic feelings for Edward to go away, she still didn't like letting down the Denali's one true ally.
She believed in no gods or deities but she found herself praying to whoever was willing to listen to her. Praying that Irina made a stop to Forks first before heading to Italy. Maybe then she could be apprehended and contained. Hopefully with (y/n) among the wolves, she could stop them from mistreating Irina. Even though Irina threatened the peace, she was still her sister and Tanya was loathe to lose another family member.
Free at last.
A massive weight lifted off your shoulders, along with your backpack as you open your bedroom window and toss it inside. Closing it once more, you waste no time in joining Embry in the jog to Sam's. Both of you nothing but smiles as the both of you cheered and laugh now that your academic life would not hinder the more entertaining aspect of the pack. Now you could hang out with the witches and watch them.
The summer sun that streamed through the massive branches of trees was kind and heightened the carefree feeling that you and Embry were drunk off of. Sunlight makes a kaleidoscope of shapes on the ground. They moved with the swaying of leaves and limbs.
But the massive figure of Sam's black wolf emerges from the brush and seemingly scaring off all light. You and Embry halt. You couldn't read his mind yet his pinned back ears and raised hackles told you that something was wrong.
To make the travel go faster, the two of you hoist onto Sam's back and he darts to his home. The backyard still has the two tents sitting silently. Void of occupants. Leaping off his back, Sam quickly shifts back to his human skin and you avert your eyes as he shimmies into his shorts. Questions aren't asked. Not yet. His silence told you enough as he leads you through the kitchen and into the once again crowded living room. This time Edward was at the center along with the three witches and Bella seated on the couch, her nervous gaze flitting around the room until they land on you and relief leaks from her.
"Where's Leah?" Sam curtly asks Seth who shrinks.
"She's not feeling well. . ." An obvious lie. Anyone could tell from the manner which Seth's gaze is focused on his feet. Sam doesn't press it though, there are more important issues to take care of and Leah was at the bottom of his list.
Sam shares a nod with Edward, the vampire taking it as a sign to proceed. "Irina from the Denali coven has escaped."
Ice freezes the blood in your veins and robs you of breath.
"What this means is that she could potentially be either on her way to the Volturi or here." His eyes no longer hold that charming honey-gold, instead they're darkened. When was the last time he'd had any animal blood, you wonder to yourself in concern. You feel your packmates stiffen around you at the potential threat of another vampire trespassing on their territory. "The other members of her coven have already been out to look for her around their home but its clear she's long gone."
Nadege closes her eyes and whispers something in her native creole. Next to her, Evita holds her hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. Dieufel listens with dark, sharp eyes.
"Can't Alice use her power to see where Irina is going?" Colin's voice was timid as he spoke up. One of the youngest members of the pack, they rarely spoke up during meetings like this as they were aware of their status as a young pup. But it was a good question posed to Edward.
"She's not here at the moment." replies Edward which causes Bella to shift uncomfortably in her seat and even Embry and Quil glance at one another. Everyone pinned so much on Alice's special ability. She was what could make or break any subsequent plans.
"I can find her." Dieufel's voice breaks through the concern in the room. But Nadege and Evita only look up at him with worry. Evita and Dieufel had been working so hard to make the wards and it showed on their features. Tired eyes and weary creases above their brows. This would drain Dieufel even more.
Reading his mind, Edward gets all the answers faster than if Dieufel were to have verbally said them out loud. "As fast as you can."
The male witch nods. "It will be done." His eyes rove over to Nadege and Bella. His lips press firmly together before nodding toward his cousin. She could read his mind easily, just not in the same way Edward had. From the expression in the depths of his eyes that she knew so well, Nadege was aware of the responsibility that was now placed on not just her, but the novice Bella as well.
You observe Bella's face. Quil had one time said that Bella had a very neutral face, almost void of any emotion. But that was not true. Her expressions were subtle. The biting of her bottom lip. A slight twitch of her brow. You could tell she was nervous. Having only been learning magic for three days, it surely wasn't enough for her to dive right into making wards. You feel for her.
Dieufel leaves the living room and heads to his tent to begin gathering his materials. Time could not be wasted.
Sam sends out Jared along with Embry, Seth, and Brady. Ideally it would have been nice to have another wolf added to their security. There were still no news of Leah and Sam still was wary of welcoming Jacob back so soon. Though the imprinting hormones flooding through Jacob could possibly now be utilized as a good thing. The innate instinct to protect his imprintee would make him all too vigilant and ready to defend. Quietly while plans are being devised, you bring this up to Sam, pulling him away from the main room.
He regards your words but there's a storm of conflict behind his dark eyes. Edward keeps his attention partly on you and Sam as he speaks with Evita. Nadege has to shoo them out of the center of the room so that she could start making a fourth ward. Bella lingers behind her hesitantly, trying to pretend Edward's presence didn't bother her. Colin and Quil brush past them as their part of the close guard along with Paul. Those who would keep close in case Irina slipped through. "Theoretically, it's a good idea. But. . . you know how unpredictable imprinting can make you in the early weeks."
You nod. "I know. But we could really use everyone we have."
Exhausted, Sam rubs the back of his neck while he ponders. "Okay. Okay. I'll give him a call. I'll try Leah again too."
His small brick of a phone is clutched tightly in his hands already. He'd broken several others, this one lasting him the longest still possessed a cracked screen and a missing button. He goes down a small hallway where you knew his shared bedroom with Emily was. You catch her poking her head out as Sam whispers something to her. They close the door behind them, leaving everyone else to get to their own individual work.
Emily must be scared at this new threat to her and Sam's life. Now she was the lone, normal human among everyone. You'd caught her once listening in on Bella's lessons. She seemed a little embarrassed that she'd been caught.
"You okay?" Edward spooks you from the abruptness of his voice. His hand was reaching toward you as if he'd been about to place a hand on your arm. It hangs in the air between the two of you. You relax and move your body so that his hand firmly presses against your shoulder. Tentatively you touch his wrist. His lips twitch into a shy smile. Were you moving too fast? You didn't know if wrist touching was alright or too. . . intimate.
"Yeah. I'm okay. Sam is going to call Jacob and ask him to come. We could really use the extra help."
"Mr. Cullen?"
Dieufel stands in the doorway of the kitchen, hesitant to interrupt both of you.
Curious, Edward only takes a second to read his mind and understand what he was going to ask of him. "Of course I'll help. Just tell me what to do." He turns back to you, his smile returned as he basks in your touch for a moment more before peeling himself away. Dieufel doesn't move though as his gaze turns to you and Evita.
"Why don't the two of you come along with us. Evita, you need to work on your tracking spells right?" Dieufel reminds her. "This will be good practice for you." He doesn't wait for either of you to say anything as he walks back to his tent where most of his personal supplies are being kept. Off in the distance you could hear your packmates moving through the trees to sniff out any kind of vampire scent that didn't belong to the Cullens.
The sound their pounding paws made could be likened to thunder. That wolf part of you is pulled toward them, wanting to join the hunt. But your alpha told you to stay put, keep watch here. After all, Emily was still inside the house. Unable to protect herself. She needed whatever protection was left to offer her.
On the wooden picnic table that had white painting chipping off in flakes were the tools of Dieufel's trade. A shallow bowl made out of a purple crystal (possibly amethyst). Around the lip of it are etchings, similar to those you've seen already while hanging around Evita. With his back turned to them, Dieufel takes a vial from around his throat and unplugs the stopper. You wonder what it is but he gives no name to whatever silver liquid he pours into the gemstone vessel. Around it are four stumpy little candles supported by small holders. One brown, one red, one blue and one white.
"The time of day isn't ideal." Dieufel admits and glances up at the sky. "But we'll have to make do."
He beckons everyone closer, particularly Evita and Edward so that they could be of more use. Moving Edward so that he was now in front of the bowl, Dieufel explains that only Edward will be able to see the location of where Irina might be since he knows what she looks like and has been around her in the past few days. Her impression will be fresh upon him.
"Evita, my grimoire." It was on the edge she was closest to, a great leather bound book. Weather worn and near bursting. Evita lifts it up and before she could hand it to him, Dieufel flicks his wrist and the book opens in her hands. She suppresses a surprised yelp, watching as the pages fan open to the correct one that had the tracking spell. He hisses out another word that you don't quite catch but the stubby candles suddenly burst to life with little beacons of flames. Edward's eyes are wide as he has a front row seat.
Their magic was always amazing to witness.
"And what do we do next?" He probably knows this spell from memory, but he's also training Evita too.
She tries at first to recall it from memory, but in a second her eyes flick down to the yellow page. "Mugwort. Sprinkle mugwort on the surface." Already on it, Dieufel's dark hand pops open a plastic container with what looked like moss. You'd heard about the herb before, commonly used even on the reservation. Especially among the elders. He grabs a fistful and skillfully sprinkles it producing ripples on the liquid's surface. Each ripple starts to bleed a cosmic swirl of blue and purple as Dieufel murmurs something under his breath. "Next we'll need. . ." Evita looks to Edward "a piece of your hair."
Edward's brows quizzically raise but he's not one to ask questions of a witch and easily lifts his hand to his head, plucking a single strand. Offering it to Dieufel between pinched forefinger and thumb.
"Conjure up her image the best you can. Every facial detail, make it crystal clear in your mind. Focus. Don't lose it." He instructs once he has Edward's hair. Rubbing it between his fingers. "Ankhom tenebris vinculum"
Closing his eyes, you focus on Edward's face. Every twitch and movement behind his eyelids.
His hair is gently placed into the cosmic waters, stilling them and producing a soft, shimmering light. "If you have her in sight, slowly open your eyes and look into the bowl." Carefully with his hand on the nape of Edward's neck, Dieufel moves him so that his face is leaning directly over the surface.
Fluttering his eyelids lazily open, Edward takes a sharp inhale once they're fully open. "Wow. . ."
You try to see around them, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was Edward was seeing. All you could make out was light dancing around the rim of the bowl. The runes glowing as Edward's eyes widen even more.
Apparently it doesn't take too long before Edward's found where Irina is for he hisses and nearly flings himself away from the picnic table with wild eyes. "Jacob. She's heading towards Jacob's."
TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch , @dangerouslittlefairy , @burn-crash-rqmance , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd, @godinho11 , @alexizodd , @melaninsugarbaby , @lyeatoalinatoheaven , @ronwownsme , @itsmytimetoodream , @afro-hispwriter , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles , @nightly-polaris , @corrodedcoffins-slut , @ellesalazar , @itgetzweird08 , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms , @sassyandclassyx , @scarlet2007 , @theroyalbrownbarbie , @jennyamanda8 , @stevenandmarcslove , @biancaindaeyo , @loversjoy , @turningtoclown , @vixorell , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels , @dumbbitch-juicee , @southern-bell-give-hell , @nat-the-gemini , @imdoingathingmom , @emmettcullenswife , @yoong1c0re , @daddykylokenobi , @minjix , @magical-spit , @krismdavis , @arin-swear-rose
#reader insert#reader insert fanfiction#twilight fandom#twilight fanfiction#the twilight saga#twilight saga#twilight#edward cullen x you#edward cullen x reader#edward cullen fanfiction#edward cullen fanfic#edward cullen
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no one asked but here's what I would do if I could rewrite the Parkers arc on TVD:
starting out Kai would leave after taking Jo's magic. I don't even care where he goes or if his final line in season six is "have a good life, sissy" but my boy would disappear and go run free for a while and leave mystic falls behind. So no second stent in a prison world or being a blood-bag for a bunch of heretics (like y'all wonder why he came back to the wedding swinging).
Listen, do I still want him to become a heretic ??
Yes, 100%.
But we'd need to figure out how to avoid killing Jo and Liv in the process, so we'd be relying on some silly TVD loophole. As coven leader his ass should be able to sever the ties binding them.
(or maybe jo gets given vampire blood at the hospital pre wedding and when he stabs her she wakes up too but as a vampire i don't KNOW and i don't care but we keep the three of them alive end of discussion. the Red Wedding is so deliciously evil of him part of me wants to keep it but maybe we focus on making it about killing their awful dad/the abusive family and leave the siblings out of it).
so yes, Jo would somehow make it through the wedding unscathed, leaving Caroline out of the horrible gemini baby incubator plot line.
Liv and Tyler get back together post wedding gate, and in season 7 they're hopefully enjoying college and making plans for the future. She's still broken up about Luke, obviously, but she's finding ways to heal. He's helping her, she's helping him, they're healthy and adorable and 100% on track for marriage.
In season 7 we'd see Jo and Ric adjusting to pregnancy/parenthood, with the mystic falls gang rallying around them to help.
We'd get an occasional check in on Kai: i want him off being ridiculous on islands and in europe and just vibing being a menace wherever he'd like; maybe the MFG call him for magical advice since he's wicked smart where the witch histories are involved or maybe hes still hung up on bonnie and calling every few months to see if she misses him yet (she'll never admit she does).
In Season 8, the saltzman girls start to get their powers. The gang hasn't heard from Kai in a while, maybe we haven't even seen him in town since he left in season 6. But he shows up unannounced one afternoon on Jo and Ric's porch (they've upped to a family house) asking if he's missed dinner. It's a holiday: my boys got an awful sweater on, a baked good in one hand and a sack of presents for the girls in the other. I'd also like a santa hat with a little bell if it's christmas.
The loophole about Jo saying she'd kill him if he ever came back is that now she's a mom, and the girls are confirmed witches (which makes them official members of the coven) so if he dies they die, and he doesn't think Jo will kill her own kids.
Obviously he's right, so a super weird and uncomfortable "family" dinner ensues. The girls have no idea who he is at first, but they're thrilled to meet a new Uncle. They have questions about their mom growing up, and questions about Kai now and where he lives, and Josie, especially, has questions about what's wrong with them.
Lizzy is nervous around new people, but Josie isn't even the tiniest bit afraid of him. She peppers him with question after question, hardly letting him catch his breath:
If he's a siphon like her, how come he has magic of his own now? Can she ever have that, too? Does letting her magic drain out ever stop hurting? Will she ever be as good a witch as Lizzy? Why were they born like this?
And Kai can't help but fall for her. No one answered his questions when he was a kid, so he takes his time telling her the truth now. He still doesn't know why the spirits did this to them and not their sisters - but there's nothing stopping Josie from being as powerful as she wants to be.
(Except him, of course, but she doesn't need to know that.)
At dinner, Jo and Ric sit at either end of the table, and Kai sits in the middle across from the girls. Lizzy's warmed up to him now and keeps asking him for special tricks. They haven't seen a real witch except for Aunt Bonnie, and having one so close for the evening - let alone someone they're actually related to, is a novelty they can't pass up.
Suddenly Kai flicks his wrist, and the girls freeze in their seats. "They're cuter than I thought they'd be," he admits.
"What did you do to them?" Ric growls, starting to stand. But Kai keeps him in his seat with another wave of his hand, smiling at both of them.
"We need to have a little chat," he tells them, "grown ups only."
"So send them to their rooms," Jo snaps, "we don't use magic on our children-,"
"Oh nice," Kai nods, "good on you for breaking the family traditions. But this will only take a moment, sissy, and they won't remember a thing. Pinky promise."
"Fine," Jo says, "what is it?"
"Simple question," Kai sighs. "I know which one of them is my favorite, but how about you two?"
Jo and Ric can only stare at him.
"You probably like Lizzy best, right?" Kai asks, rolling his eyes at Jo. "But what about you, Ric? Does Josie being a little freak bother you? Or does it not really matter, since you've never been a witch anyway?"
"Kai-," Jo tries to stop him, but he brushes her off.
"Don't pretend you don't have a secret favorite," he says. "You and I both know every parent does. Now tell me which one it is, and I'll unfreeze them."
"Why would I ever do that?" Jo asks. "I don't HAVE a favorite, I love them both."
"Well," Kai hums. "I suppose I could kill them both, if it's what you want. But between us it only really needs to be one of them. I thought you'd at least want to pick which one you got to keep."
He flicks his wrist, and the girls go back to peppering him with questions. Jo and Ric exchange panicked, horrified glances.
"Why are you two looking at me like that?" Kai asks, making sparks dance on his fingers for the girls. "I'm being nice, or did you miss the part where I said you could keep one of them?"
*
Later, after Ric and Jo have had a heated debate on what they should or shouldn't do, Jo takes the girls into the living room where Kai's waiting.
"Oof, bit harsh, sissy," he says, standing, "making one of them watch?"
Jo doesn't say anything, she just stops before him, the girls standing between them.
"Who's it going to be?" He asks, cracking his knuckles.
"I don't know," Jo says, "because I can't decide, and I'm not going to."
Kai tips his head back, groaning. "Come on, that wasn't the deal-,"
"I didn't agree to any deal," she reminds him, keeping a tight grip on each of her daughters. "I love them both, Kai, equally. If you want me to pick Lizzy because she's the easier option, I'm not going to do it. Josie is just as much a witch as any of us, and I'm not going to give up on her just because we might have hard days. I'm their mother, I can't make this choice."
Kai glares at her, knowing where she's headed.
"So if this is really what you want to do, then you look at your nieces right now," she orders, "and pick."
Kai rolls his eyes. This is her big plan?
Fine, easy.
He drops down to his knees before the girls, looking at each of them. Josie shuffles a bit closer, tugging the edge of his sleeve.
"Uncle Kai," she whispers, "did we do something wrong?"
Kai's expression falters. "No," he says, "you - you haven't done anything."
"Then why are you and mommy fighting?" Lizzy asks, tilting her head.
"Because your mom is being difficult," Kai pinches the bridge of his nose, "can you two just be quiet for a minute?"
"Sorry, Uncle Kai," Josie shrinks in on herself, drawing her little hand away from his arm.
He stares at them, and they stare right back at him. It should be easy - but it isn't. Josie has his eyes, his hair, his curse. And Lizzy can't shut up to save her life, she's twitching now with the need to ask him something else.
"You're both so - small," he says, one hand on each of their cheeks. "You're kids," his eyes flick up to where Jo still stands above them, "they're just kids."
"I know," Jo agrees, "so were we."
and just like that, we've got an immortal coven leader and no need to ever do a merge again
anyway thanks for coming to my ted talk
#kai parker#malachai parker#the parkers#gemini coven#alaric saltzman#jo parker#liv parker#the vampire diaries#tvd
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how about some yandere Peter mothatuckin Ballard?
The lab
Summary: A regular day for you and your slightly manipulative boyfriend. You are an orderly here.
A/N: Thank you so much! It was really fun to write and although it is a bit short i hope you like it. I'm still new to writing yandere and writing in general, so feedback is welcome. Reblogs appreciated. Should i use Peter Ballard or Henry Creel as his name for future fics?
Italics is just your thoughts.
The moment you stepped though the door, there was going to be no way back. Although, you did not know this yet. Thinking it would be just like a normal job. You were wrong on that. Never would you have imagined that you would look after kids with some kind of superpowers. You couldn't leave the lab for more than 15 minutes, just enough for some fresh air and to pick some flowers. These breaks led to your daily flower pick moments. No surpise then that this place led to your guys meeting each other.
"Have i seen you before?'' You looked up from the grass to see a young man standing there. Wow, he was handsome. "I don't think so, I have only arrived here a few days ago and just started to settle in." You answered. "Well allow me to introduce myself then, my name is Peter." He held out his hand. "Y/N." I took his hand and got up from the grass. "Very weird question Peter, but do you know what time it is? I asked. "Quarter past 12, why?" As his mind began to work he realized the break times. "Ah, you started at 12 I suppose?" "Mhm, now it was lovely to talk to you and I hope to you soon!" You quickly cleaned your outfit of all the grass and hurried back inside. Peter couldn't help but to smile at your antics.
"Eleven?" you called out while you entered the rainbow room. You didn't have to wait long for her to respond. Well not a verbal response but more a run into your legs at full speed response. "Wow, slow down. I'm not leaving" You joked as she slowly started to loosen her grip on you. You have only been here for a few days but you bonded so quickly with Eleven that it felt like you have known her your entire life. "What you want to do? Draw, chess or maybe the toy cars?" you asked her. "Draw please."She mumbled. "Well then off we go!"
This is how it went for a couple months. Wake up, watching over kids, break time with Peter, watching over kids, dinner, shower and go to sleep. Everything seemed normal to you. Not to Peter. Over the months he slowly started to fall for you, he felt the need to protect you. Like you were fragile, a doll. He watched out for you in multiple aspects. He helped you witch hiding flowers if you brought some for the children, he kept track of the time when you where out, he made sure you always had food if you were sick and he protected you if the other orderly people made some remarks towards you. You did not know the last point, but that was alright with him. He knew that you would appreciatie it. With the Soteria in his neck he couldn't use his powers but he still had his mind games and damn were they successful. Not only towards you but also towards everyone else. He was head over heels for you, maybe just a bit too much...
You started to notice his protective services when you noticed Mark( another orderly) started to keep his distance from you when you were both working in the same room. "Mark?"you called out. "Are you alright?" He quickly started nodding saying that nothing was wrong. You just found it peculiar, in the last week you've chatted a lot with him. Peter entered the room about 20 minutes later. "Mark, Brenner asked for you." He stared at Mark until he was gone. "You alright Y/N?" He asked as soon as he saw your eyes becoming a bit red. "Not really, Mark has been avoiding our conversations today. "Strange, i'll talk to him Y/N don't worry." He said while holding you to his chest so you could relax. Head on his shoulder you didn't see the glimmer in his eyes when he said talk to him. If you had noticed maybe Mark wouldn't have died due to unknown reasons.
#stranger things#stranger things imagine#peter ballard#peter ballard fluff#peter ballard imagine#peter ballard x reader#yandere x reader#yandere peter ballard#yandere henry creel#peter ballard headcanons#peter ballard x y/n#peter ballard x you#001 headcanons#001 fluff#001 imagine#001 x reader#yandere 001#001 stranger things#henry creel#henry creel x reader#henry creel x you#henry creel x y/n#st#st4#stranger things x reader
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pmmm rewatch live notes: ep 2
hihi back for my ep 2 notes! idk what to say other than that tbh i had so much to say before ep 1 notes but nothing new same deal. enjoy :)
madoka wakes up from a dream of what happened the day before which mirrors the first ep and implies that the first “dream” was a memory
the daily morning routine stays the same even though madoka’s world has been irrevocably changed
mami lives alone which shows again a level of maturity that doesn’t match their age
kyubey says magical girls are “duty bound to fight witches” what a convenient way to not mention that they need to fight witches to survive
sayaka ponders potential wishes like riches and fame which shows her naivety
madoka's mom talks about giving her boss and break and maybe moving up the ladder at work showing her maturity
mami says that many suicides are caused by witches which is a Wild thing to say considering that becoming a magical girl is essentially signing a contract to become a witch and die so it’s essentially a suicide contract a suicide due to a witch
mami invited them to see her fight a witch so that they can see the reality of it before committing
but at the same time she puts on an air that she is more put together an unaffected bc she wants them to feel protected and also bc she selfishly doesn’t want to fight alone anymore
hitomi wondering how sayaka and madoka got so close over a night and assuming it’s romance is another reminder that they’re young innocent naive girls who shouldn’t be going through these horrors
mami is such a good name for her bc her whole thing is protecting and guiding like a mother i think this homophone is intentional
mami and sayaka assume homura is being selfish about rewards and that’s why she doesn’t want madoka to be a magical girl but really homura is being selfless bc she’s saving madoka like she asked her in the past even though she wants to be together with madoka where they can understand each other
sayaka says that they are blissfully ignorant fools for not knowing what to wish for and acknowledges that the two of them are privileged and that’s why they are struggling with kyubey’s offer
opens up a conversation about how upbringing and social status has an impact on who is more or less susceptible to fall into dangerous situations
sayaka stands protectively in front of madoka when homura comes to talk to them on the roof
when madoka asks homura what she wished for she stops, gives a long look at madoka, and wordlessly walks away
mami calling her showing sayaka and madoka the daily life of a magical girl “magical girl class” lightens it to a level that doesn’t match the severity of the situation
same w sayaka’s bat and madoka’s drawings
sayaka says “it's a lot less exciting than i was expecting” about tracking the witch which is a crazy thing to say considering mami died in like the next episode
sayaka is really pissed off by homura while madoka tried to understand her
reminiscent of how the two of them interact w homura and kyoko later on
red and orange background as they track down a witch w mami
red shoes of the woman about to commit suicide that mami sayaka and madoka save
witch kiss on the woman is red too
mami’s soul gem glints in her hat which is important considering it means it gets destroyed when her head is bit off and that’s why the injury kills her
in the labyrinth madoka doesn’t make any active actions only follows and watches vs sayaka who gives commentary and swings her bat
ending song playing as they fight the witch showing like hey this is where the fucked up shit behind
GRIEF SEEDS CLEANSING SOUL GEMS IS CANNIBALISM
homura doesn’t accept the grief seed from mami not bc she’s a lone wolf (which she is) but bc she wants mami to survive and be ok so madoka is happy
at the end sayaka is smiling that everything wrapped up well but madoka looks pensive bc she isn’t able to completely disregard to more unsightly parts
but once sayaka voices her opinion madoka is swayed and smiles too
#puella magi madoka magica#pmmm#madohomu#madoka magica#holy quintet#madoka kaname#homura akemi#mahou shoujo madoka magica#how obvious is it that i relate to madoka on a visceral level be honest#pink haired lesbians unite#the cannibalism of it all literally destroys me just wait till ep 5 notes its literally a food chain
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Skinamarink is a lovely indie horror movie, which is just a bit ruined by the number of people calling it unique, genius, and the scariest movie they've ever seen.
It's an interesting and abstract painting style of movie which begs the viewers to ask questions about the purposeful grain and distortion surrounding the long and static shots. It also deliberately avoids focusing on any of its characters, in exchange for dwelling on the textures and shapes and geometry of a house in the dark. It's very much apiece with most first time and lower budget horror, relying on the human need to impart meaning and patterns into everything we see. It's effective at communicating a sense of some intention by the author, but largely leaves any touchstones of meaning absent or obtuse. There are points where it almost approaches House of Leaves in the way it immerses you into the house layout, though it doesn't quite pay all the immersion off in interesting ways, opting to manipulate the viewer experience in means which mostly don't rely on the house itself to be a functional living element, and rather fall back on it being a mere container of the story. I wasn't seeking it out at the time, but as I write this, in retrospect, it feels like a missed opportunity considering how far out of the way the first third of the movie goes to familiarize the viewer with the house.
If you haven't spent a lot of time in the horror genre, or haven't watched a lot of low budget horror, but you are a fan of what we might call the internet of horror (an amalgamation of Marble Hornets, SCP, and the Backrooms I'd say), chances are good that Skinamarink is going to work very well for you as a scary movie. Also, because it is fairly structured despite obscuring the exact plot intended by the author, it works as an excellent canvas to explore your relationship to horror and childhood.
That said, I would personally suggest trying to look at it beyond the somewhat basic idea of "this is a dream / coma experience" or "they are dead and in hell." So far the idea I've best preferred (seen in another review) is that the movie is the childhood experience of divorce as seen through a malicious haunting. The slow and inexorable isolation, lack of parenting, and gradually erasure of memory tracks very well with the consequences of divorce. While I never experienced death, I've definitely experienced nearly dying in a coma and being a child of divorce, and if I'm imposing my own experience, the latter more than the former applies. It also tracks well with the unusual manner of the children, who remain huddled around the television talking in whispers throughout. If you've ever been a child, you're probably aware that being left alone usually results in some degree of mass chaos at some point. However, if you're trying to keep the sole parent from waking up while you stay up late / get up early, the secretive whispers are probably familiar. So, there's some meat here to get into, and altogether it makes for a good sturdy work of film.
For me personally, I'm not in horror for scares, so I can recognize the effective dread and tension of Skinamarink, and even enjoy it, without necessarily falling prey to the exaggerated promises of the most terrifying experience of my life or something unlike anything I've ever seen.
If I was more invested, I could potentially do some digging for specific examples, but I'm just going to leave it that I've experienced plenty of horror which raises intense dread without a specific moment or idea that breaks it into a scare, and horror that deliberately avoids focusing on the elements that are most disturbing. It's a nicely competent example of the genre, but it is unique only in how much online excitement it has generated, if we pretend a similar movie, Blair Witch, didn't exist. They pair well, complimentary opposite examples of the same general style of filmmaking, with a creative approach to a microscopic budget.
Should you see it? Sure, it's nice I think. It's not a work of genius, not something transformative to the genre, not something you've never seen in your life, not something marvelous or transcendent or beyond description. It's what it looks like, a pretty good indie horror from a promising director.
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SPILL UR GUTS MASTERLIST/CHALLENGE
1. All American Bitch
?
2. Bad Idea Right?
Jason Todd x M!Reader
Warnings: Implied sex, Reader sleeping with his ex (aka Jason)🫢, Swearing, drinking, fluff-ish??
Summary: After partying a bit too hard, the reader wakes up in his bed, and finds Jason (HIS EX) laying right next to him and they are both naked
3. Vampire
[Request]
Miguel O’Hara x M!Reader
Warnings: Angst, swearing, drugging, divorce
Summary: Reader uses miguel and ends up giving him drugs to destabilize him because he is loyal to Alchemax. After a long time of dating he finally admits that he used Miguel
4. Lacy
?
5. Ballad Of A Homechooled Boy
?
6. Making The Bed
Tim Drake x M!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Arguing, Breakup, Comfort
Summary: The Reader is the son of death stroke, and of course being his son meant that the reader had to train really hard, but he was never perfect. And he has also found himself in a relationship with Tim. So he pushes Tim away to train harder and make his father proud of him. That ends up leading to the reader and Tim having a massive argument, and they break up. But they meet again, with Batman confronting death stroke about something. It ends up in a fight with the reader and Tim fighting each other, but the reader overworked himself so hard to the point where he passes out mid-fight and Tim immediately stops to take care of him.
7. Logical
?
8. Get Him Back!
[Coming Soon]
Yandere!Ex!Rich Boy x M!Reader
Warnings: Yandere
Summary: Both the reader and Felix are forced to be together at a young age and when they finally split up, they start living their lives and dating whoever they want, at least the reader is. Felix starts to become obsessed with the reader and kills/injures anyone who tries to even look at the reader.
9. Love Is Embarrassing
Connor Kent x M!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Comfort, Swearing, Cheating, Jealous!Conner
Summary: The reader falls for someone quickly and proclaims his love to his friends (including Connor), and Connor can’t help but to feel a bit jealous of the guy, but the reader ends up having his heartbroken by the person he thought was "the one”. And while Connor is comforting the reader, he ends up confessing his feelings.
10. The Grudge
[Coming Soon]
[Request]
Harlan Briggs x M!Reader
Warnings: Angst, swearing, cheating
Harlan and the m!reader (who is a powerful witch) is on their one year anniversary and the m!reader is planning on making a date for them on their one year anniversary. After planning a date, it’s the night time already and harlan is hasn’t come home yet. The reader tries calling/texting Harlan for hours but Harlan is busy f*cking Cyrus. After waiting, the m!reader decides to locate Harlan using his magic and he locates him so he drive to the motel and he walks upstairs and he hears moaning and groaning so he panic starts to kick it and he open the door very nervously and when he opens the door he was seen cyrus and harlan doing the deed and he was very broken and harlan saw him standing in the door freeze and crying so harlan ofc 'i can explain' blah blah blah and he and the m! reader starts to argue and the m! reader starts to lose control the light is flickering and everything so the m! reader noticed it and he leaves to the motel and starts driving to the beach (he and harlan goes to thier first date) and starts to sobbing violently and he wanna scream and he screams loudly like a banshee and the shockwave like flash through the city so long story short they broke up.
11. Pretty Isn’t Pretty
?
12. Teenage Dream
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Bonus Tracks:
13. Obsessed
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14. Scared Of My Guitar
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15. Stranger
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16. Boy I’ve Always Been
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17. So American
[Coming Soon]
Cowboy!Oc x M!Reader
#male x male#mlm#malexmale#male reader#mxm#gay#olivia rodrigo#spill your guts#guts#guts album#spill ur guts#guts olivia rodrigo#masterlist#spill ur guts challenge
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Princess of All Evil (Kingdom Hearts AU)
Rather than being caught by Xehanort and sent to Destiny Islands in the lifeboat, Kairi is caught by Maleficent, who takes the young Princess of Heart on as her apprentice. The witch trains Kairi as the girl grows up, becoming a powerful sorceress and a clever schemer by the age of fourteen. She meets and develops a bond with the rest of Maleficent’s council, though she avoids Ansem (who is not happy about not being able to follow her to find a Keybearer to use as a pawn). In the present day, she is sent to lead a Heartless attack on Beast’s Castle to kidnap Belle, which she accomplishes by twisting the castle’s enchantments to immobilize the servants and shift Beast’s animalistic form to prevent his attacks.
When the Heartless attack Destiny Islands, Riku hears a voice in his head calling him to the play island, and he goes in spite of the storm. Sora sees him outside of his window and follows him out of concern. When Heartless swarm them both, a Keyblade appears in Riku’s hand, which he uses to defend Sora and fight the monsters. They are unable to stop the Darkside, and the islands crumble while the boys are sucked into the chaos orb and wind up in Traverse Town. Riku ends up in the First District and encounters the Heartless and Leon while searching for Sora, while Sora ends up in the swamp outside of Merlin’s house and he meets the old wizard and starts to learn magic from him. Sora heads to town to look for Riku after a few lessons at the same time that his friend was sent to track down the Heartless’ leader. Sora and Riku bump into each other just before Donald and Goofy crash on top of them, and they all fight the Guard Armor. Wanting to help out and see the worlds, Sora and Riku agree to go with Donald and Goofy to fight the Heartless. Leon gives Sora a sword to use in battle, and Goofy and Donald begin tutoring both boys in combat and magic, respectively.
Kairi trails Alice through Wonderland, only for the younger girl to be put on trial for a Heartless’ attack on the Queen of Hearts. As she tries to come up with a plan to extract her, Sora, Riku, Donald, and Goofy show up and intervene in the trial. Seeing an opportunity, she waits for her chance and creates a Corridor of Darkness in the cage Alice is in when it is raised and the curtain is drawn. Taking an interest in the “cute boys with the Keyblade”, she reports what she saw to Maleficent and later heads to Traverse Town with Maleficent, where she approaches the party posing as a civilian refugee. She endears herself to the group easily, though Donald is suspicious of the magical energy he is detecting around her, and she finds herself genuinely liking them in return. When the Guard Armor attacks the Keyhole, she tests the party’s abilities by transforming the Heartless into the stronger Opposite Armor.
Kairi joins Jafar in capturing Princess Jasmine, stealing Genie’s lamp, and locating the Agrabah Keyhole, as she wants not only to supervise Jasmine’s capture but also to get her hands on the lamp when Jafar uses up his wishes. When Sora, Riku, Donald, Goofy, and Aladdin show up, they see Kairi and realize that she is working with Maleficent. Kairi joins the ensuing fight and fends off anyone who attacks her, but she is content to let the fight play out. When Jafar becomes a genie and is subsequently defeated, she sneaks off with his lamp, preparing her wishes, and she also takes Jasmine to Hollow Bastion.
It is here that it is revealed that Kairi has been waking the captured Princesses up to talk for most of her life and has genuinely befriended them. Emboldened after capturing Alice and having learned more of what Maleficent and Ansem intend for them, she left her awake and woke the others up, keeping them in a room adjacent to her own.
Ansem and Maleficent put Kairi with Captain Hook to travel around and gather the materials to forge the Keyblade of Hearts. Kairi convinces Maleficent and Hook to let her take the Princesses on as crewmen, knowing that Ansem plans to use the Keyblade to steal the hearts of all seven of them, including her. She teaches the girls magic and convinces them to help with her plans.
While digging for ore on an asteroid, Monstro attacks, forcing the Jolly Roger to flee which results in Kairi being swallowed by the whale. Intrigued by Pinocchio’s existence, she lures him away so that she can study his magic (and maybe also play some games with him). When Sora, Riku, Donald, and Goofy appear to take Pinocchio back to Geppetto, she teases the boys and makes them chase her through the whale. She decides that Pinocchio won’t be able to offer her any benefits, but she still helps the party rescue him from Parasite Cage, then takes him and tries to heal him when he is injured by the Heartless and appears to have lost his heart, even considering using her first wish to help him before Sora and Riku confront her and it turns out that Pinocchio is alright. When the Parasite Cage returns, she makes her escape through a Corridor of Darkness to the pirate ship.
When the heroes storm Hollow Bastion, Ansem talks Maleficent into fighting them in the chapel. When the witch is injured in the fight, Kairi goes to check on her mentor, and Ansem manipulates Hook into stabbing Kairi with the Keyblade of Hearts, reasoning that Maleficent will not be able to protect her charge. However, the “Kairi” they target was actually Snow White with an illusion spell, and the real Kairi uses her first wish to Jafar to have the Keyblade of Hearts appear in her hand, which she stabs at Ansem, trapping his heart within the weapon.
It is then that Kairi makes her case. The worlds will remain safe, but she will be in charge, with the Heartless under her control; she will be a hands-off ruler, but if she makes a decree, it will be law, and the Heartless will enforce it. If the Heartless step out of line, they will be slain in droves. Sora insists that he and Riku want their islands and the other worlds back, to which she agrees. Maleficent protests at her wicked work being undone, but Kairi warns that she will strike the witch down without hesitation if she stands against her. She guides everyone up to the Grand Hall, where she and the Princesses cast a spell with their light to complete the Final Keyhole, then instruct Riku to seal it. She informs them that the Door to Darkness will appear on End of the World, and that sealing it with the Keyblade from both sides will cause all of the worlds to be restored along with their inhabitants. Sora and Riku agree to help Kairi while Donald and Goofy go along with it until they can find a solution that they are both satisfied with.
After everything is restored, Kairi looks over Ansem and Xehanort’s research one more time before her date with Sora, regards the Keyblade of Hearts which holds Xehanort’s Heartless, and remarks: “You’re Darkness Number One. That means I have twelve to go.”
#kingdom hearts#kingdom hearts au#kh au#kairi#kairi kingdom hearts#kh kairi#villain kairi#anti-villain kairi#maleficent#sora kingdom hearts#riku kingdom hearts
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[POV: You were born a Dream vortex, and Lord Morpheus has been watching you all your life. What will your story be? Part 3. Part 2 here.
(This seems to be becoming a 5-parter instead of 3... but I’ll compromise the og length goal if I get to tell a richer story. Anyway, only NICE things this time, nothing disturbing for a change! And I’m excited about the next part (which should be a quicker update than this one)- I have ideas for NICER things 🥹)]
I am seventeen, and for the first time, I am at the Dream Lord’s palace. I could not have imagined its beauty. It makes wonder blossom in me, but not surprise. I have been visiting the heart of the Dream realm since I was a child, have been seeing Dream’s creations. His home would be resplendent, like all those things are.
There was a bridge, there were gates, all grand beyond a scale I could comprehend. But travelling in Dreams is not like travelling in the waking world, and without being quite sure how I closed the distance or which path, exactly, I took, I am at his palace. Or, as I should more appropriately call it, his castle. When I was younger, I couldn’t find it when I tried. But now I am more powerful, or perhaps Dream no more veils it from me. Whatever the reason may be, I am able to be here.
Within it, I have walked through the wide hallways with fire burning in braziers like I would walk in the real world, and every turn brought something with the capability of stopping me in my tracks: elegant architecture, amazingly intricate design or pattern, unnamed item of beauty. Once I think I saw a man with a pumpkin for a head, singing and cleaning things.
But the purpose of my unsolicited visit here is not mere curiosity, and I do not have time to dwell on the beauty of the place. I need to speak to Dream.
I have found his throne room. The towering arches are modeled after unknown imposing figures, the ceiling does not exist- it is a starry sky, yet sunlight streams in through the high stained-glass windows behind the short, curving staircase at the end of which is a simple throne. He is not on it. But as I am absorbing the surroundings, I hear his voice-‘You.’
I turn around to see him walk in, a book in hand. ‘Yes’, I bow to him, ‘Dream Lord.’ I never showed him any such formal gesture of respect before, but here, now, it is unthinking, almost involuntary. Light filtering in through the stained glass has given the air in the room a cool bluish tint, and Dream looks as if he is sculpted out of this very air and the midnight sky above- vividly defined yet one with his castle. Even if I were to be seeing him for the first time at this moment, I would not have doubted it is him whom the throne belongs to. He is the rightful king of this realm, and never before have I felt it more than this moment- it induces in me a deep respect and reverence.
And then he returns the gesture, bowing his head to me slightly, ‘Queen.’
Dream would acknowledge my sovereignty! This jolts me with surprise. Underneath that, warmth bubbles. That itself is a source of wonder- scarcely anything makes me feel warmth nowadays. I set that aside for now, because this has given me the courage to do what I am here to do.
‘I need your help.’, I tell him.
He has come to stand before me. ‘In regard to?’, he transfers his book from one hand to another.
‘You told me once that you have a library with everything that has been written, will be written, or would be written. I need access to this library.’. This is by no means a small thing to ask for, and I hold my breath waiting for his answer. He could simply say no, and all will be over.
He does not say no. Instead, he frowns. ‘Why?’
‘I need information. And no one will give it to me in the real world.’
I am now Queen of my own kingdom, yes. But a Queen without a king, a witch who goes free- never have the lands seen anything like it. This is how it must be, and the people must learn not only to settle with the idea but also respect and submit to the power behind it. I have known this from the beginning, but the route to achieving it I do not entirely have mapped yet.
After my successful but disorderly attempt to escape an assured death sentence and dethrone the King in the process, there could have been complete chaos across the kingdom. But Dream had appeared at just the right moment to put everyone to sleep. The crowd awoke later, still confused and afraid, but the violence and quick, angered action had fallen away from the tip of their fingers, replaced by a need for retreat and comfort. So they went home, and they waited, and watched. In the meantime, an unexpected hand came to my aid.
It was the minister to the former King- whose child daughter was so vilely defiled, and who avenged his daughter by assassinating his monstrous monarch. He believed me to be a witch. More than this, despite this, he believed me to be an improvement. I showed him the truth unlike any other, I would not try or punish him for murdering the King like any potential next ruler from his bloodline, and I was still a Queen with a title. Trying to climb the throne would give him nothing, people would rather follow a witch than a title-less commoner like the minister. Standing by me, being my ally, he could still have influence- and as I think he started realizing, perhaps more influence than he had ever had.
He declared fealty to me, and with his council, offered his servitude. His help was invaluable in regard to making sure the shift in power was as smooth as possible, keeping things in control palace and kingdom-wide. But he was watching me, and what he started expressing was concern- I needed rest. I needed healing. I had been tortured, imprisoned, had been through terrible ordeals! I was a powerful witch, yes, of course he believed that, and being so, did I need to concern myself with all small decisions regarding the running of the palace, or maybe regarding the lords of the kingdom?... Surely, I would be satisfied enough with desired end results? I demanded that everything I promised to the people be delivered. More even distribution of riches, no overwork or underpay, satisfactory food, and clothing and shelter for the people. Those must be the end results. And those were promised to be by the minister.
But it took time for things to change, systems to be made different, I was told. And I, I had never been trained for any of it. Policies and politics, strategies and schemes- I did not ever learn. The minister saw that, and he is ever cautious- he does not forget I am a witch- but ever so gently, he keeps pushing me farther and farther away from it all. He is taking care of it. The council will make it happen. He is working on it, worrying my worries, so I can rest! Oh, he has proof, he can bring people to my court- farmers and merchants and craftsmen who would speak for their folk, who would assure me all is well, all is better, and Hail Me!
But how do I trust any of it? How do I know I am not being manipulated? How do I know they are not secretly plotting my downfall? In my own kingdom, I truly know no one and no one knows me. They fear me still, but I am not really one to harm them, or anyone- I would not, could not dream-power my way into making them my real allies, earning their true loyalty. They do not know this, perhaps, but they understand they need not fear anyway: they are not antagonizing me, theirs is a subtle game. Everything seems to be on my side, everyone serving me, but in truth, I suspect, I am all alone in the dark.
And it felt all right for a time. I was so exhausted. Had I not earned rest, after all my ordeals? Maybe it was for the best. I didn’t have to care so much. I could spend my days in a comfortable nothing-haze, my nights in deep sleep, not dreaming, and I could live that way. So what of it?
But that is not really living, that life is not what I fought so hard for. I promised my people a Queen, and I must be so. Not a mere figurehead, but a real one.
I need to know what is really happening around me, in my kingdom. I need to know how my court, my council think, operate, what they are. This understanding, this knowledge I could not gain from any human library. But the Dream Lord’s library, on the other hand…
‘Every book that ever could be written. That should mean everything, right?’, I ask after explaining everything to him, ‘Everything possible? Books about people I want to know, and their processes I want to learn… it must all be there. If I could just see-‘
‘Effectively you would be spying on their minds.’, Dream finishes for me, considering.
‘I don’t care.’, I say flatly, ‘It needs doing. And remember that I could do it more directly. I could spy on their dreams every single night, and maybe that wouldn’t tell me their processes or plans, but it would tell me about them like not even your books can.’, I breathe, ‘But I have resolved, as I promised to you, to use my abilities as little as I can. I haven’t tried anything since I have been free. You’ve been watching, you know.’ I hope this is the goodwill that will convince him to help me. But what I don’t tell him is I can feel my powers nowadays. I can feel it grown bigger, more intense, and with that, more unstable. It is less and less safe for me to meddle with others’ dreams.
Dream sighs. ‘A human is not meant to have access to knowledge about fellow humans this way. Unfair advantage-‘
‘When have I ever been how I was meant to be?’, I interrupt Dream, challenging him, ‘And I am still standing. So is the universe, not to mention.’
Dream watches me for a moment. Then he smiles faintly. ‘That is true. You are not one to be kept confined. Very well. Come with me.’
I did not fully expect to succeed when I came here. Now that I have, relief fills me along with a thrill of joy- things may start going my way yet. But before that, there is something else that needs to be done.
‘Dream.’, he was starting to walk towards the door, he stops and turns around at this.
‘I never thanked you for saving my life.’
Truth is, it was a long time after that night that I could have thoughts which made sense. And even then, I was broken and imprisoned, and when I really was able to direct my thoughts towards anything, I planned my survival and escape. Strange, but it was a while before it even occurred to me that Dream simply could have not saved me, not done anything. He was why I was still alive, and it did not help him at all to have me be alive. But he saved me anyway.
‘Thank you.’, I tell him, ‘I am still standing- maybe because of the way I am, but also because of you.’
I was expecting him to acknowledge my gratitude perhaps with a gracious nod, then move on. But instead, his expression is darker- brows furrowing, mouth tight. He looks away, and quietly says, ‘You suffered before that.’
I hear the rest of his unspoken thought- I suffered, and he let it happen, he did nothing until the very last moment.
I am shocked, because isn’t that what is to be expected of him? That is what he led me to believe- that he ruled his realm, kept it intact by not engaging with the human world and not intervening in human affairs. That him sparing thoughts for me is an anomaly.
But as I look at him now, regret visible on his downturned face, I realize he had me fooled, maybe even himself fooled. Maybe it would be easier for him to be uncaring, but he cared.
Unexpectedly, this realization almost brings tears to my eyes- I am so starved for love. And he would never admit it, but does it never get barren and lonely for him- containing all of the universe’s unfiltered, unrestrained hopes and dreams within himself, yet always trying to be distant from it all? Maybe he too, is-
Not wanting to navigate that slippery slope, I control myself, and say, ‘What happened to me does not define me. And I would rather either of us didn’t dwell on it. Please show me your library.’
He nods, leading me. I ask as I follow, ‘The books won’t tell me the future, will they?’ Dream can’t see the future, as far as I know.
‘Ripples of both past and future are cast in the Dreaming.’, Dream replies, ‘But no, in the books, you will only see versions of the present… after a manner.’ He pauses, then says, ‘I told you about the library years ago if memory serves. You were a child. I am surprised that you remember.’
‘I remember everything you ever said to me.’, I never thought about it, but as soon as I say it, I know it’s true. ‘Those were the only real conversations I have ever had… even with you being quiet most of the time.’
‘Well, you almost talked enough for two people, so I needed not add much, did I?’, at the corner of his mouth, a smile plays.
‘Are you teasing me, Dream?’, my eyebrows are raised.
‘I speak nothing but complete truth.’, with faster steps, he’s left me a little behind now, but I can still hear the smile in his voice. ‘Come, it’s time for you to meet Lucien.’
___________________________________________
The next week, Dream finds me in his library, eyes screwed shut, hands sunken in my own hair, clenching.
‘What is wrong?’, he glances at the books before me, frowning. ‘Did you not find what you were looking for?’
‘Hello, you.’, I sit up straighter, trying to erase the frustration on my face with a smile. ‘And yes, I found them. Lucien has been very helpful.’
The first day, he introduced me to her- his librarian Lucien. A woman (or she looks like a woman- albeit with pointy ears) with an air of capability and kindness. That kindness has not flowed much towards me. Without her saying anything, I know she does not approve of my being here. It is possible she believes me still to be a danger to this realm, and thinks Dream is being indulgent letting me roam freely here. In my mind, I cannot completely disagree with her. She has left me to my own devices, and I have kept my distance. But before that, she did show me the section of the books I was after.
It’s all here, everything I wanted. I have the books in front of me. I have empty parchment for writing things down. I have ink, I have quill. I have everything I need. Everything but the ability to read.
I can do it. But just barely. The words don’t make sense. I see text moving around. I see them upside down and inside out. It takes me hours to understand what is on a page (or what feels like hours, time is a liquid concept in the Dreaming). I have been here every night for the last seven nights, and I have learned so little. At this rate, I might be overthrown before this brilliant plan of studying my council and kingdom ever comes to fruition. The thought makes me want to tear all my hair out.
‘I can’t read very well.’, I tell Dream. ‘It’s taking a bit more time to do what I wanted to do here. But it’s fine.’, I can’t quite make it sound like truth, but I try anyway. ‘I will keep at it. Unless you’re here to tell me one week was enough, and you want me out?’
‘I am here because I need to speak to Lucien… but yes. You did tell me about your disease.’, he has remembered our conversation from when I was little. He is the only one who calls it a disease. Everyone else who has ever known just called it stupidity. I feel a quiet gratitude. Disease is no good, but it is better than being dull.
Dream goes away to find Lucien, and I think I won’t see him again (which, truth be told, makes me feel a kind of disappointment in my stomach, and that is confusing, and I don’t have time for this-), but he comes back, and I am surprised. Then he surprises me more by pulling out the chair opposite me and sitting down. He pulls the open book towards him.
‘Is this the page you are reading?’, he asks.
‘Yes. What-‘
He doesn’t let me finish. He starts reading aloud. After reading three sentences, he stops. ‘You understand it fine? When spoken?’
‘…Yes.’
‘Then listen.’, he resumes his reading, and yes, I understand it, but I need a moment before I can concentrate because this was not expected at all.
He sees me staring and stops again. ‘What?’, he wants to know.
‘I-‘, I don’t know what to say. ‘Thank you for this kindness.’, I finish eventually.
He raises one shoulder slightly and lets it fall back, ‘It is no matter. Things are as they should be in the Dreaming, I have time. And if I gave you access to my library, it should encompass proper access to the information.’
He starts reading again, and he reads for a long time- without getting restless, without losing concentration. Like everything else he does, like his every movement, this act too is deliberate, and precise. Not a word he stumbles on, not a punctuation is lost. His voice is so lovely in its timbre and resonance, rich, and deep, and it has a quality that has always made me feel like it’s in the back of my head instead of in the air between us. I was worried that I would not retain all the information once I’ve gained it through reading in my dreams, but listening to Dream, I know I will remember it all, like everything else he ever said to me.
__________________________________________
As promised, I keep at it. Every night in my sleep, I am here trying to read through the books, and I was just getting used to Dream showing up sometimes to read to me- oh, things move so much quicker and easier when he does- but then he not just surprises me, he shocks me. He gives me a gift.
It is a tiny wooden figure, with stick limbs, black dots for eyes, and a line for a mouth. But as Dream sets it on the table, the line-mouth opens and it speaks, ‘Hello there.’
I jump. ‘What is it?’, I look at Dream, but the indignant answer comes from the figure itself, ‘It? It is Sir Woodby Stickerton to you!’
Dream sighs, ‘He is a dream I made. He is small, but I still wanted him to have dignity. I think I may have overdone it. Anyway, he can help you.’. He looks at the tiny wooden-looking dream, ‘You will read to her anything she asks you to. You will stop when she says and resume when she says. Do you understand?’
‘Of course I understand! Why would I not understand? Am I a fool?’, Sir Woodby stomps his little foot on the table.
‘No, you are not…’, Dream looks like he is regretting a few things. But then he shakes his head and turns to me, ‘Use him as you see fit.’
I should thank him, but I am speechless. This is the first time anyone has given me a gift when they were not required to or expected to, and it is from the Dream Lord, and it is this- this amazing, thoughtful, perfect thing for me- a literal dream. I won’t have to excruciatingly struggle through words and lines and paragraphs anymore, I won’t have to strain my eyes until I wake with a thumping headache every morning, feeling like that is the only thing I achieved. I can’t believe it.
I think it is written on my face how overwhelmed I am, and Dream’s eyes soften. He nods slightly, acknowledging my wordless regard, and turns to go.
‘Wait!’, I stand up. I want to say something, but I don’t know how to capture the things I’m feeling into words. ‘You- you made a dream for me.’, I end up stating the obvious.
He raises his eyebrows, ‘It was not difficult. No need to be so impressed.’
I shake my head, ‘That is not the point. You-‘, his blue gaze is fixed on me, taking on a grayish sheen in the light here, and meeting those eyes, I say, ‘You are nice.’
As soon as I say it, I recoil a little bit inside- it sounded rude, didn’t it, the way I said it like I couldn’t believe it? But he does not take offense. He shakes his head. ‘I am not nice.’, he says, ‘Or a menace. Or good. Or bad. Or generous. Or malevolent. I am an Endless, mortal Queen. I just am.’
With that, he leaves.
___________________________________________
Sir Woodby is easily incensed if I do not show him ‘proper respect’ as he calls it- always requests and ‘please’s and ‘thank you’s- but as Dream intended, he is a tremendous help. With him reading to me in his thin, reedy voice, I make so much better time. And slowly, over months, I start reaping the effects of it in the real world.
I know things my minister, my council, my staff did not tell me, tried to direct me away from, or tried to put aside even when I would deem it important. And in conclaves and assemblies, I make sure they know that. I provide input based on my knowledge, demand action, subtly I let them realize I am watching everything they do or don’t do. It bewilders them, scares them, makes them scramble for excuses and explanations. I feel the eyes of the minister on me, trying to calculate his way around this, to understand just how much to yield. But yield he must, and if he doesn’t, I have personal secrets I can hint at, subtly threaten him with, things I should have never known, but I do. I want to be sympathetic to him- I have not forgotten his identity as a terribly wronged father- but it will not stop me from disciplining him.
And it works. I don’t earn their respect still, rather- with their fear- I feel the hate. A dark magic user, I was unholy; moreover, I was a woman. Yet this is whom they must obey. But obey they do- in this slow and subtly simmering perpetual game, I nudge them into doing it. Their hate, their fear I use. Let them think me more terrible, more dangerous than I am. It is an advantage.
Then one night, in my dreams, I go to find the Dream Lord again.
Since he made Sir Woodby for my assistance, I have not seen him much. He did not have to read to me anymore, and with Sir Woodby I was in his library less often- I needed to make sure the information I was gathering did not outpace my cataloguing, pondering and using of them in the waking world.
Dream’s throne room is just as beautiful the second time as it was the first time I was here- almost a year ago now. He is sitting on a low step of the staircase, contemplating. He looks up as I walk in.
‘Dream Lord’, I bow my head, and he returns a slow nod. ‘What brings you here?’
This is a little hard for me to answer today, so instead, I ask, ‘How are you?’
He blinks, looking mildly surprised, as if this is a question he is not used to. Always I find him alone, so this might not be far from the truth. In fact, in all the years I’ve been meeting him, this is the first time I have asked this. But better late than never. I don’t want to always be finding ourselves in situations where complaints or demands or pleas are the first things that hang from my lips, where he speaks in denial and frustration and rage.
‘I am well.’, he responds formally. He doesn’t ask me how I am, but I answer anyway.
‘I am too, actually. Things are much better in my palace. And I suspect they’re starting to be better for my kingdom- or queendom, I suppose- as well.’, I tell Dream about the way I’ve been using the information I gained in his library, the impact I’ve been having. He listens, attentive. I finish by saying, ‘This wouldn’t be possible without your help. So, thank you again, Dream. I am grateful.’
‘Is that why you are here? To thank me?’, he is waiting for an answer, and all I can offer is another question, ‘Do I always need a reason to be here?’
He watches me, not saying anything. I don’t know what to do with this silence, so I fill it.
‘I- I think I’m finally becoming the Queen I wanted to be. I never thought I’d come this far. I didn’t even think I’d live this long, let alone rule a land. It just-‘, I take a deep breath, ‘It makes me feel like I’ve achieved something for the first time in my life. I- I wished to share this with someone. I don’t really have anyone to- anyone who would-‘, the longer I speak, the sillier it seems, so I stop. What does Dream of the Endless care what’s going on with me or my tiny little queendom in the waking world- all of it less than a fraction of a speck in all the spaces he rules over? He has been generous enough to listen thus far, I should not ask for more. The last thing I need is for him to tell me he is not my friend yet again—
‘I have business in the shores of the Dreaming.’, he stands up, severing my thread of thought. ‘But you can come with me.’, he gestures me along slightly with his head.
The walk is not short. Dream doesn’t speak during it, but the silence is comfortable enough that I feel at ease. Some of these places I have been through before, some I haven’t, but all of them are beautiful, even when they are terrible sometimes. This makes perfect sense to me because Dream’s realm- it is exactly like him, it is him. I take it all in, immersing myself in it, and almost start wishing the walk wouldn’t end.
But it does, and we are at a pier I saw once before- when I was younger. It’s night here, the sky a pitch black, and nothing around anywhere except this long wooden pier. Underneath, water churns, blue-black, almost glowing.
‘It is the raw dreams of humans.’, Dream tells me when I ask him about the water which apparently is not. ‘Everything, everywhere. All in here.’
I feel strangely alive. This is a powerful place, and it’s like the power is seeping into me. As if reading my thoughts, Dream says, ‘No mortal has ever been in this place before.’
I nod, and bowing my head, say, ‘I acknowledge that it is a privilege to be able to experience it. I am thankful, Dream Lord.’
Dream’s eyelids are lowered for a moment as he smiles, then looking up and seeing my questioning face, he says, ‘I remember that you would complain about having to learn being a Lady.’
Oh, I remember- me indignantly reporting to Dream about my tutors and having to memorize rules and learn etiquettes and everything- I don’t want to be a Lady- etc. Seems so long ago now, but Goodness, did child-me whine to him! I open my mouth to- I don’t know, apologize, maybe, but before I can, Dream says, ‘Well. Resistance failed. You are a Lady.’
I stare. What is this? A mere comment? A compliment? An observation? I’m not sure how to respond, so I attempt a joke, ‘Yes, after my year in the dungeon, I thought I’d try it instead of, you know, being a shriveling, snarling hag.’
‘You were admirable in that role as well, I should say.’
If anyone else said this, I would decide they were participating in the joke, but Dream is being neither amusing nor derisive. He is serious, and I realize this, in fact, is a compliment. Surprise is what I mostly feel, but underneath it, there is that warmth which it seems only Dream can induce.
‘Thank you.’, I say.
I actively resist the thoughts of the terrible things I have been through, and I know I am lucky that the memories cannot find me in my nightmares- I resist that as well. I can choose what to dream about or not. But still those experiences catch up with me, wrap me in their cold, repulsive tendrils. There are times when I am unable to feel anything, care about anything, think about anything in any cohesive way. And most of the time, whatever I feel, see, experience, seems muted- like half of me is still in the dungeon, locked up and all alone in the dark, body and mind ravaged, suffering through the consequences.
But in the Dreaming I can bring a purer self of me, and this place- alive with the power of the dreams of the universe- charges me, vitalizes me, wraps me in a cool quiet, vivid and sharp and peaceful. To Dream, I ask, ‘Will it be okay if I sit here for a while?’
He nods in assent, and I have a feeling he knew exactly the kind of effect this place would have on a dream vortex. That may be true, or not, but I am grateful, nonetheless. I sit down at the edge of the pier and close my eyes, and Dream probably goes on to finish whatever business he had here, but I don’t know or see any of it, and after months and months, this is peace, deep and real, and this is the sweetest dream.
___________________________________________
Do I always need a reason to visit the heart of the Dreaming? Dream never answered my question, but by taking me along with him on his business, allowing me to be there, he told me enough without words.
But I don’t want to be presumptuous, I don’t want to impose, and I understand that I cannot be that child again who at every single chance would seek the Dream Lord to share all her thoughts and troubles with. I certainly don’t want to be that child (and Dream would never stand for it). So I use my privilege with reserve. I visit the realm- sometimes the library but sometimes just to see Dream- with regularity, but still sparingly enough so as not to make a nuisance of myself. The time in between, I am actually busy as I get more and more involved in the workings and systems of ruling a land, and it is all material for me to discuss with Dream.
‘They fear me.’, I say to Dream, ‘I know things thanks to your library, and I think I figured out the exact balance of how much to tell or not for each of them- each of my councilmen including the kingkiller- how to push them into giving me what I want.’ As I speak, I realize how it makes me sound – like a slimy manipulator, just as my councilmen. Becoming a real Queen was what I wanted, is this the cost?
‘Are these the only people you work with?’, Dream asks.
‘Well,’, I have to think about it, ‘Yes.’, I say eventually. ‘I have guards, and chamberlains, and servants, and maids, and envoys, but I don’t really have relationships with them, I guess. They don’t like me, they don’t like they have to serve me- a widow, a foreigner, a witch- and the councilmen is whom I need anyway. They are the ones who would build the systems I want and put them in place for my people-‘
‘Are the guards, the chamberlains, the servants not your people too?’
‘They are’, I am defensive, ‘And the way I’m building our policies will also help them, I’m sure.’
‘I would not give advice regarding your human affairs.’ Dream is reflective- brows slightly furrowed, speaking slowly, ‘and you would rule as you see fit. But let me say this much: ‘witch’ they call you, and it is not a bad thing to be, but it is perhaps not wise to forget that you are human too, mortal Queen.’
As I think about it in the next days, I realize Dream is right. I have never been good with people- I was not treated with particular kindness when I was young, and I retreated within myself, blurring out the real world with my dreams, living in them while the waking world merely held my body. That, I assume, pushed people away farther- eventually, they could not reach me at all. Even if they had kind intentions, I would not know.
But I am too old to complain anymore that nobody likes me- maybe they would if they knew me, and I never gave anyone a chance. I can start now. The people around me- I can start talking to them, actually make conversations, listen, be kind on purpose. Maybe if my parents had done that to the people in my old palace, they would have been kinder to me, and I would not have suffered. I can break the cycle. I can start trying right now.
And I do. At first they are cautious, and wary, and suspicious, and not open to it at all. And I don’t get through to all of them. But I get through some, and the difference is stunning when they want to be loyal as opposed to being required to be loyal. I start actually using the throne room for public appearances- I never did that before. The people hate me, they fear me, they would not want to see me, I’m better off running thigs from behind the scenes- this is how I felt. But I ignore all that, and I sit on the throne, crown on head, face covered in thin veil, and wait for people to come to me, and express their concerns, or complaints, or pleas. I still never get big crowds. Hundreds of years of culturally embedded bias don’t let these people be at ease with a woman ruler who, in addition, is a self-proclaimed dark witch- they can’t face it. But some people do come, and I am able to be kind to them, and hope this is circulated, and multiplied outside of my palace.
I thank Dream for his advice, and with his little smile on the corner of his mouth, he says, ‘But I did not give any advice at all.’
‘Right.’, I roll my eyes, ‘You have a problem, do you know?’
‘Do I?’, he raises his eyebrows, ‘Pray tell.’
‘You would have people- or, I don’t know- me, I guess- believe that you are just… worse than you really are.’
He frowns, ‘What do you mean?’
Does he really not see it? Perhaps not. I judge concepts like ‘better’ and ‘worse’ with my human scale, and I understand that he does not do the same. Sometimes our measures would align, sometimes not. And if I base my observations of him on only the former cases, I would be led astray. But it is so easy to forget that...
‘Nothing.’, I say, hiding a small sigh. ‘Do you know if Lucien is in the library? I want to see her if that is okay.’
I do, and this is because I believe she is one of the people around me that I can be kinder to. I am here often enough to know how important she is to the Dreaming, and if she is wary of me, it is only because she is fiercely loyal to the realm and its Lord. I have learned something of loyalty in the past few months, and I respect her more for it. She is entitled to her attitude towards me, but I must pay my debts.
So I go into the library. After offering greetings to Sir Woodby who seems to have taken up permanent residence here (I have to suffer through a long monologue about his importance to the daily workings), I find Lucien. I thank her for all her help with the books, and tell her how much I appreciate the library. I say I wish I had people like her around me in my palace. I leave with a sense that I have not won her over, exactly, but she perhaps feels much less antagonism towards me- not because she was flattered, but because she recognized the truth in my words. Kindness- it can do wonders, even outside the human realm.
My sense was right, because in later visits Lucien is more open when I see her, and once she says to me in a low voice, ‘Lord Morpheus is not in the best mood today.’
It takes me a second to realize that ‘Lord Morpheus’ is Dream- he never told me this name of his before. Then again, he never told me any name- he had introduced himself as the Lord of Dreams. I suppose that also means being Lord Morpheus, then. It is a beautiful name, this.
‘Why, what happened?’, I ask, and Lucien says, ‘He met with Desire recently. They must have cooked up something new.’
Desire of the Endless. Dream did tell me about his siblings, and even knowing Dream of the Endless all my life, I still find these concepts very hard to internalize.
‘Should I leave?’, I ask Lucien, trying to swallow my disappointment- it has been some days since I saw Dream. Then again, I think I’d still be disappointed even if I had seen him one day ago… Lucien interrupts my disturbing stray thought by answering, ‘Perhaps not yet… he seems to like your company usually.’, her grudging admission almost makes me smile. She doesn’t say that she thinks I can alter Dream’s frame of mind, but I think she half-hopes that anyway.
Dream is at his favorite place to sit- namely, the staircase of the throne room. I go and sit near him on a lower step. I don’t say anything, and I don’t know if he wants to talk- I just hope my presence is not unwelcome right now. But I don’t feel it is, and after a while Dream says, ‘Why must some of us be so against one another? We are siblings, we are Endless, our purposes are grand. We should not be having petty fights amongst ourselves.’
These are musings, and I don't have to have answers. But after some time I say quietly, ‘Do you remember something you told me? That you are not nice, or mean, or good, or bad- you just are, because you are Endless?’
‘Yes.’, Dream looks at me, and I say, ‘Well. Desire- they are an Endless too. So they, too, are not good, or bad… they just are. Right?’
Dream frowns, ‘We still have choices.’
‘And I don’t doubt you are much wiser with yours. But would they be able to escape their own nature? Would you? I don’t know.’
Maybe Dream doesn’t know either. He ponders this quietly, small lines on his forehead, and I feel… I feel for him. If there is one thing I know about him after all these years, it’s that he strives always to do right by his realm, do his duty that he must from the beginning to the end of time. In all this, I suppose thoughts for his own self are disregarded. He might not agree, but I think he deserves more.
Since my body was violated and bruised and burned, I have not been fine with touches. I don’t like touching other people, I don’t like them touching me. So I’m almost as startled as Dream to find my hand light on his arm. But it is fine now, and as his eyes meet mine, I try to say with them what I can’t in words- I’m here. He’s always listened to me, now I would like to do the same for him, and if it must be his silence rather than words I listen to, that is perfectly all right.
I think he understands, and he looks away, but lets me leave my hand on him, and we sit together in his silence.
[Update: Part 4]
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Tag ask: @warmtoastedbread
#sandman fanfiction#sandman fanfic#morpheus#dream of the endless#dream x reader#morpheus x reader#dream x oc#morpheus x oc#fanfiction#fanfic#fic
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DISCIPLE — The Warning
The sun is your enemy today
Have you heard the news that the world isn't ending?
It's starting again
But all the nonbelievers they keep on pretending
The sun is your enemy today
You love to look away from the face of your vices
Embrace them instead
And welcome yourself into the new modern crisis
Oh, oh, I've been waiting
Oh, Disciple in the making
Kill the system
Kill the man
Strip the power from their hands
Your eyes will bleed as you stare at the screen
You shall remain
Inside your space
2, 3, Go!
The sun is my enemy today
I'm running from the misery like there's no tomorrow
Let's share it with them
And show all the world that this life isn't borrowed time
Oh, oh, I've been waiting
Oh, Disciple in the making
Kill the system
Kill the man
Strip the power from their hands
Your eyes will bleed as you stare at the screen
You shall remain
Inside your space
Swimming with the fishes 'til they drown
Love is just another excuse we rely on
Palpable but hidden in the sound
Hate will always be a good friend when the sun goes d[r]own
Oh, oh, oh, hear my calling
Oh, oh, oh, nonbelievers start running
Oh, oh, I've been waiting
Oh, Disciple in the making
Kill the system
Kill the man
Strip the power from their hands
Your eyes will bleed as you stare at the screen
You shall remain
Inside your space
of ignorance
The Warning — DISCIPLE
A delusion of a being long dead, an idea of living only to serve, only for one purpose. It leaves behind a sharp-edged data fragment to mark its passing.
There is a conflict in me, O Witness, that unsettles your weapon, my self. Why is it that you allow flawed understandings of your great work to persist in all those who serve you, even in your Disciples? Every one of us seems to have some different conception of your Final Shape.
I do not need reassurance in my own comprehension. Only to understand what purpose it serves that you have chosen such disparate servants to carry out your will.
Is it a simple answer? Perhaps none who serve you have the capacity to grasp your vision. And so, rather than waste more of your time and attention on explaining something they will never hold, it is enough that they act as you will. The Witch and her Hive carving single-mindedness out of the cloth of the universe, that whispering Nightmare seeking the fullest gamut of existence, the Upender destroying all differentiation. Shadows on the wall.
In this case, it would be hubris to think I have understood your work, that I alone among your Disciples have grasped what purpose it is we serve. All of us must see darkly reflected.
But there is relief in simplification. There is kindness in winnowing. So then, why is this proliferation permitted?
The shadows, showing the truth by their casting.
Perhaps it is enough to simply trust that we are weapons in your hand, O Witness—even if we cannot see the perfect shape of your plan, we serve it by your wielding of us. Each Disciple has come to be only by your will, and so that incomprehension is also in your making. You ask for trust, and obedience, and promise that whatever you do, whatever finality you achieve, will suit each of your followers perfectly.
Your Final Shape will be a hundred promises kept. I have seen the reflections of it through all of we Disciples, through the tracks you leave in the universe, a truth understood through the shadows it casts.
There: I have resolved the conflict within my thoughts, and I am at peace again. Once more, I am only your violence and nothing more.
The Final Shape will realize us as we strive.
RECORD 978-ECLIPSE-4165
lo? Hello? Are you...oh, please, let it be alive. Wake up little Ghost, wake up. Just please give me some sign that you're listening.
All right. I don't need...I know you're listening. Why would you be out here if you weren't here to...It's a miracle I found you out here. On this thing.
I didn't know the Traveler sent its Ghosts out this far from home.
Poor little lost thing. Please wake up.
I am an Arach of Dead Orbit. I am the last of the crew of the Sophia. And this place is...it doesn't have a name. We called it A-113.
How long have you been here, little Ghost? Why did you come?
Listen. We came here on behalf of the Fleet. We were scavengers. Sixty-one days ago a Dead Orbit scout detected an unknown presence in stationary orbit about Ceres. 133 west. Looked Golden Age, by the signatures. Human. A small station. No prior records. We -
I suppose we should have disclosed it to the Tower, but we didn't. I didn't. That was my call. We wanted it for ourselves, whatever it was. For the Fleet. If we'd told the Tower, maybe they might have sent a Guardian not of our making instead...Doesn't matter now, does it, little one?
If I ramble it's because I haven't slept in seven days.
Seven point five days ago; that was when the Sophia dropped into the Belt. They saw us at once. We dropped and the alarms went off and that was the end, that was the end right then, but they let us go on for another seven-point-five days, didn't they? The alarms. Hostile scan detected. An Awoken ship had us in its sights, just a couple hundred kilometers away. Like it had been waiting for us. It could have wiped us out of space right then but instead it crippled our engines and our comms and then for days it played with us, like a cat, we limped half-way round the Belt and it was always there...
We abandoned the Sophia one-point-five days ago. We jumped ship for A-113.
I don't know what else to call it. I don't know what it was built for. There are these things, like keyholes. The rangefinders say they go on for thousands of kilometers. The others went inside and found - well, some of them are still screaming about the eye. All the other voices that come back are more terrible.
There's salvage here but it'll never come home, none of it. None of it except maybe you, little Ghost.
Wake up.
Wake up. Go home. Tell them to strike A-113 from the records. Tell them to forget the Sophia, and the mission, and her crew.
END RECORD
#unveiling#truth to power#follow the daito rabbit#the witness#eramis#rhulk#emperor calus#calus#truth is a funny thing#speaking through dreams and memories#Destiny#Destiny 2#Destiny the game#Destiny2#Destinythegame#D2#Savathun#the warning#disciples of the witness#call me the grandmaster of semiosis#the veil#the final shape#vow of the disciple#MACROCOSM#The void#cocytus oh shit oh god its over
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I know I already gave an OC but if you're down, I got another one for your witches and warlocks.
Name: Gaspar Rivers
Gender: Male
Age: mid/late thirties (precise age unknown, likely younger than he looks, because a lifetime of stress is a bitch)
Sexuality: Aromantic heterosexual
Race: Faunus (red wolf)
Trait: Teeth, they are all pointy, sharp and ready to bite down.
Whilst not outwardly visible, his jaw muscles are far denser than a regular human as wolves have some of the strongest bites pound for pound in the animal kingdom. In part this has also made him somewhat of an obligate carnivore, meaning that he likes his steaks fresh and bloody rare, but he does enjoy a fruit juice whenever he can.
Allusion: Geralt of Rivia. Yup, this warlock and self-professed 'warlock hunter' is basically a witcher. Btw, in Polish the name of the book series is actually called Hexer!
Appearance: 5'10", hazel eyes, mid-length chestnut hair ("it's NOT a wolf tail! It's braided and tied so it's kept out of the way."), athletic build with a focus on a strong stable core, he, quite literally, is no push-over. Scars and stress wrinkles are apparent just about everywhere there's bare skin.
Personality: Due to his constantly being removed from 'civilization' Gaspar can come across as boorish and gruff. The dozen or so people that actually know him on a more personal level will state that he is quite affable with a 'rough-around-the-edges' kind of snark when he jokes around. Young children seem to feel safe around him for some reason, bit like how cats always single out people who don't like cats. Unlike those non-cat people, Gaspar cares deeply for the younger generations and has earned more than a few scars in the defense of them.
That said, he generally keeps away from 'polite society' anyway. The fact he's branded as a warlock since popping out of a forest as a teenager has soured him somewhat on city slickers and prefers to use intermediaries for information, supplies and the like whenever he has to get closer to the kingdom capitals and larger settlements. Those intermediaries have been cultivated over the past two decades he's being going around and range from Huntsfolk who've cooperated with him in bad situations, to militia people he helped out out of tight spots, to regular citizens he's escorted throughout the years.
Outfit: If you played, or know about, Witcher 3, it's a modified version of the Bear School armour in colours of browns and greens. Rather than having a belt filled with potions and mutagens, it's a collection of pouches with numerous dust types in various forms (dust, crystallized, liquidized).
Weapons: Twin shortswords with dust receptacles. He calls them 'Steel' and 'Silver' because he was not that imaginative and the colour of the swords' metal were the first thing that came to mind. He wields them both a the same time where both can fulfill the role of offense and defense at any moment.
He can combine them with a Beringel femur, turning the shortswords into a dual bladed staff sort of weapon. It comes across as an odd and unwieldy weapon, but the thick femur has long since been infused with several dust types over his years of travel and study. As a result the Grimm bone has become nigh-indestructible and it enhances the dust striking ability of 'Steel' and 'Silver'.
Semblance: "Trackin Gaze". When focusing his aura to his eyes, Gaspar can spot, trace, discern and ultimately track all manner of trails left by movement and disturbances. Be they made by people, animal, Grimm or machine. This includes disturbed winds left in the wake of both airborne and waterborne movements, meaning he could potentially follow a Nevermore that already passed the horizon or a boat in a murky bayou.
When using it, his vision turns greyscale and things that are of import gain a reddish hue. (Yes, it's witcher sense but different...)
Fighting style: Gaspar focuses on keeping stable and upright, whilst he appreciates his good fortune of having a generous aura supply, he's learned long ago that redundancy is a great key to survival. This explains the somewhat out of sorts use of an armoured outfit. His movements are seemingly simple and short, some could even say slow and plodding. This only hides the fact that he's always moving for better positioning and forcing errors in his opponents, striking quick like an arrow at the next best oppertunity. Furthermore, he incorporates the various kinds of dust to keep control of the battlefield.
For example:
Modified gravity dust gives him another layer of defense on top of his armour and aura.
Time dust to slow down a charging foe or give himself an apparent boost.
The various elemental dust types to blast away at short range, both to damage and to give him space to move or react.
As mentioned in the weapon segment, he infuses his twin blades with all manner of dust.
Basically the dust types are there to replace the Witcher Signs like Quen and Aard as well as potions and oils.
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And that about covers it. I looked around your lore tidbits and I feel like this character, blatantly adapted as he is, could fit in this world of yours.
He'd likely be on the trail of OC's like Abi and Fau, for different reasons if their bio's are anything to go by.
Do let me know what you think.
Wow a long one! From what I've read, I like it! I can see him becoming a bit of an unwilling mentor to Abi and Fau, simply because he doesn't want a couple of kids getting hurt despite how he can't stand their general behavior.
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howl’s moving castle but rainduo (platonic ofc)
CRACKS MY KNUCKLES. hmc is such a Classic nonnie so i had to do a bit of thinking to get it right (well.... to get it right in my head. but i feel everyone here is familiar enough with my particular kind of rainduoisms by now) but i think the outcome is a fun one :] i'm just gonna put my thoughts into bullet points
now originally i wasn't sure who should be who (oh my little bottle blonde anarchist......) but i did decide to put wil in a howl ish role and niki in a sophie ish role on the basis of how hard howl weaves narratives around himself and how hard sophie does not GAF. that element of them stood out so much that i was like okay cool that's how we'll do it
so niki is doing something semi unfortunate with her life. NOT baking that's for sure. holding onto an empty shop for a long-gone (not that she admits that bit to herself) old friend, and she's quite lonely. and then after crossing paths briefly with the local dipshit wizard she gets cursed by a snooty ass witch of the waste (idk who this would be.... open to suggestions i suppose)
and wilbur is the least competent wizard ever :] why bother to stay in wizard school when you could mix your own potions and refuse any and all help out of pride and trade your heart away to a fire demon for some companionship?
(i'm taking this as another opportunity to spruik albatross wilbur btw i know the wings aren't as striking as sleek crow-black but - )
the fire demon in question is fundy, who sort of came into existence as a being with a personality and such after falling from the sky and receiving wilbur's heart. wilbur smothers him too much. there's not many other people he keeps around to smother. fundy wants out honestly
(oh and it's not super relevant but i think tommy is markl hehe)
so niki marches off to track down the wizard who she overheard the witch mentioned and... starts baking in his kitchen. okay a rainduo thing is being almost too familiar with each other let's be honest. but yes i think they latch onto each other quite quickly. niki is at first just looking to have her curse cured but being old and hanging out in the house with people who actually seem to give a shit about her is freeing in a way, no more getting tangled up in the politics of her small town as it lunges towards involvement in the war, etc. wilbur thinks she's fascinating.
as for the broader "what's happening in the world" perspective i was thinking it was something along the lines of the antarctic empire being at war with another power, drawing all of these small towns and microcountries along with it.... wilbur is supposed to go home to his family but he doesn't want to because he's afraid of facing the trail of small, easily destroyed countries left in his wake, he doesn't want to deal with phil's questions or the scrutiny that he expects from phil. instead, he tries to sabotage the war effort on his own from the frontline
so he keeps receiving letters from phil, but he can't bear to face him. solution? uh.... get niki to go lol. it's even on the grounds of a small country wilbur once ruled (niki had to squeeze this information out of him like a sponge, and she only heard an inkling of it thanks to fundy), now called manberg, which ceded to the empire in the war.............
surprise! it was actually schlatt trying to pull Some Bullshit as a revenge trick. he roasts the other witch and then almost sinks wilbur and niki into the Void but despite his tendency towards problem avoidance, wilbur steps in to defend niki and they just barely make it away. that being said, niki has learned a lot about her new friend through this adventure that he has not been willing to divulge himself, and it stings. why does he shut her out?
also notable: wilbur gives niki a ring inset with three diamonds to help her find her way home
the atmosphere in the castle is not fantastic after that, all their fun little memories bitter now. wilbur swings between talking freely about ripping the armies apart with his bare hands (claws? talons? that secret is out and he keeps evading all of niki's questions with nervous laughter and quips about monsters) and saying absolutely nothing at all. his suicidal tendencies are the elephant in the room that basically everyone else refuses to talk about, except his own too-grandiose and vague comments on the subject.
niki tries not to stew over feeling excluded. the lonelier she feels, the worse her curse gets.
wilbur takes her to a flower field, blooms rolling long into the horizon, and for a moment she thinks they might be fixing things. (she's so wrong)
through a series of mishaps (perhaps a visit from one of niki's friends..... i feel bad doing eret dirty like that though lmfao) henchmen start breaking into the house just as bombs fall upon the city. niki is put into overdrive to keep the castle from falling apart as the city burns around them. wilbur, who is already doing extremely too much flying around and causing problems in the midst of bombs dropping decides to go exacerbate the issue in an attempt to go out in a blaze of glory. unfortunately for him niki, fundy and tommy are all stubborn sons of bitches who will be extremely pissed if he fucking dies, so we pick up the castle and start moving
okay yeah i kind of think the rest of the story plays out not too differently from the movie? niki gets split up from her friends when the castle breaks down and attempts to kick a dent into a mountain when she realises she's alone again. unable to find wilbur himself, with the last bit of power from the diamonds he gave her she finds the doorway into his memories and sees the moment he and fundy met..... they were both very lonely. very sad. she shrieks out to both of them to look for her in the future
she stumbles out of the memory and finds a pile of feathers wilbur and woooo forehead kisses and wooooooo niki finds fundy again and puts wilbur's heart back even if it means they both might leave her again. BUT THEY DON'T even if they're not all in the castle 24/7 niki now has a few nice friends and is so submerged in that feeling that she doesn't even notice the curse breaking.
and the war ends!! and maybe they even talk about their hurts!! the hurts they carry and how they hurt each other!! and they keep on living!! and they all live best friendily ever after <3
#im sorry it took so long to get to your ask anon!! usually i like to wait until the hubbub around one au has died down before i answer more#to make sure each one gets its day in the sun yk#but apparently hunger games au is sticking around!#also i almost went on a Litany discussing like. fix its in relation to this kind of au for rainduo but its late so i refrained. but i think#its really sweet that you were thinking of this story and it made you think of rainduo nonnie hehe#anyway thank you very much for your ask!! <3#asks#rainduo#aunonnies
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