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astralis-is-typing · 8 months

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⚝fic type: one shot as part of the weeknd series

⚝genre/contains: nobility!au, duchess!reader x viscount!taehyun, angst, fluff ending, established relationship, allusions to cheating

⚝word count: 3k

⚝warnings: arranged marriage is discussed, character death (not taehyun or reader), depictions of parental neglect.

⚝synopsis: the blazing love that you and taehyun nurtured in the quiet space of your library meets an unexpected dilemma when he finds out you are engaged to someone else. your relationship with him was already the talk of the town considering taehyun's of a much lower social rank than you. he had his insecurities, but never expected such a betrayal. should he have expected it?

You burst into the library, huffing as you moved through the aisles and made a beeline for Taehyun’s work desk. It was turning out to be a hot day, and the afternoon light filtered through the translucent dome ceiling, bathing the large space in an orange-tinted light. Taehyun looked up from the books strewn across his desk as you approached him, big eyes glimmering as they always did when graced by the sight of you. A welcoming smile stretched across his lips as he stood to greet you; no matter how long you two were together, Taehyun secretly doubted he’d ever get over the giddiness of seeing you.

He had grown used to your fuming form over the past few weeks following the demise of your father. It wasn’t sadness; you didn’t mourn your father for very long– the two of you barely had a real connection. This moodiness had to do with the domino effects of his passing.

Neither of your parents had a sliver of parental care in their body, not a single bone if genuine affection for their own children. You and your siblings were little more than property to them– meant to be paraded as trophies when they needed to impress their peers, and then disregarded once more as soon as you got home. Since you were the first born child in your family, your mother had been pressuring you to become more serious about your impending ascension to a duchess. It was something you’d always detest… being the automatic inheritor of a role you did not want, simply because you were born first.

Your escapes to your library had become more frequent; after every meeting with your mother, you’d come seek solace in your favourite place– and in your favourite person. This library, with its high ceiling and large windows, brought so much light into your life– both literally and metaphorically. Its warm stone walls were your security, and the books within strongly reflected your heart’s desires, opinions and way of thinking. You often fought the temptation to simply lock yourself up in here for days on end, with no one but Taehyun and your handmaiden to know where you had escaped to. The urge was especially at the forefront of your mind on days like this, when your mother’s stern insistency got under your skin and you felt that you were a mere string puppet while other people controlled your life.

Taehyun didn’t pry today, but judging by your behaviour he figured your mother was trying to convince you to do something you didn’t want to.

He guided you towards the bay window behind his desk, the soft strands of his hair tickling your temple as he leaned down to plant a lingering kiss on your cheek. The two of you loved sitting there during your down time. When Taehyun wasn’t working, and you weren’t swamped with your tutoring and duties, the two of you spent hours on end seated at that bay window together. It provided such a clear view of your estate– it’s sprawling fields and the trees that lined the eastern perimeter, acting as a wind breaker to shield your abode from the treacherous winds that sometimes swept over your region.

Taehyun regarded you for a moment before speaking, leaning against the curved wall framing the window as he tried to gauge what the crease of your brow indicated. He was always mindful of how he approached these types of discussions, weighing his potential approaches. It never failed to amaze you how thoughtful and perceptive he could be, particularly now when you were being bogged down by so much pressure.

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear?” he finally asked, sitting beside you and directing your attention towards him. The two of you would both sit with your backs pressed to the walls behind you, and have your legs meeting at the centre of the seat, pressed against each other from the knee downwards. This way, you could hide a sketchbook in your lap and draw your lover without him noticing. Unfortunately for you, Taehyun’s eyes were far too attentive to miss that and you were never very subtle to begin with, but it was a fun game all the same.

It took a moment for you to meet his gaze, to be present in this moment with him rather than worrying about your future. Your mother’s latest ‘suggestion’ had been her most outrageous one yet. It was only a matter of time before the whole ordeal blew up in your face if you didn’t find the will to tell Taehyun about it soon.

For now, you groaned and slumped into his side. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“That’s alright,” he said easily, gently pulling you to him and wrapping a hand around your form. You curled into him, body now on top of his. You sighed in content as he soothingly ran his hand up and down your arm. “What would you rather?”

“This is enough for now,” you assured him, making yourself comfortable.

This is how life always was with Taehyun. The warmth and consideration your lover held for you overwhelmed you at times. It wrapped around you, so that no matter the season, you were constantly blanketed in its radiant grace.

Taehyun was the son of a viscount who your father, the duke, had a great rapport with. Once Taehyun had completed his schooling, your father convinced him to help your family manage your library. Taehyun was neat, precise and simply meticulous in his work. As you spent most of your time in the vast library, and always had since you were a child, you and Taehyun became fast friends. Your friendship bloomed into more after a nearly a year of playing hide and seek with your feelings for each other. And now– another two years later, the two of you had a solid relationship.

The affair was already scandalous; because the title of a viscount was lower in rank than a duke or duchess, marrying Taehyun would diminish your own social standing. You found yourself caring less and less about that fact every day you spent curled up in your library together, hidden from the world and your impending responsibilities as a duchess. When you were with Taehyun, it was simply you and him– nothing else mattered, no one could access either of you in the sanctuary of that library. You’d purposely made sure no one but your handmaiden accessed the library during your hours there with Taehyun. Your estate had a handful of libraries, and your parents had granted you this one for your personal use. It was named after you, and you often fantasized about a time in your life when you’d be able to switch your last name on the large placard for Taehyun’s.

The two of you were silent for a while, simply enjoying how comfortable that action was in itself. You tried focusing on Taehyun’s ever-steady breathing, on the tune he was absent-mindedly strumming onto your arms with his fingers… but as fate would have it, your worries started to crop up in the corners of your mind, disrupting the calm Taehyun had induced on you.

“Read to me, please,” you mumbled, enjoying the sun outside the window behind you that was warming your back. Taehyun’s voice would be a good distraction to the ones in your head (that sounded a lot like your mother). He chuckled at how your cheek was mushed against his chest, and the way you whined in protest when he got up to fulfill your request. Although it took a while for him to learn how to initiate physical contact, Taehyun loved when your body so naturally gravitated towards his. It made him feel needed.

The book he chose was embroidered with reeds harvested from the stream nearby, strands dyed a deep, regal blue. Its edges were bound and plaited so intricately one would not have to read its contents to regard the book as art. Taehyun opened it to where his bookmark lay and began to read.

Taehyun’s soft voice breezed through most of your tension, but you were only half listening– distracted by the anxiousness gnawing at your insides. There was something you needed to tell him, but you kept procrastinating having that conversation.

You were engaged.

When you’d met Taehyun, the process of your engagement was already underway. However– in a rare bout of graciousness– your parents had let you delay its announcement for another year or two. You were still young, and had a few years left before people started to question the lack of a ring on your finger. You didn’t particularly mind your fiancé. He was amiable, which worked for you. And– as your mother kept reminding you– he came from an incredibly wealthy family, which worked for your reputation.

But you did not love him. You’d never been in love, but you had half a mind to know when you weren’t. Your parents tried convincing you that love came with time, but if their relationship was anything to go by… you were better off alone.

Taehyun had been a godsend. At first, his cordialness seemed cold; always polite but never making the first move. You later realized that this was how your lover expressed shyness. Since the both of you opened up about your feelings, Taehyun had been nothing but loving– always greeting you with a new book recommendation you already knew you’d love, and arranging platters of fruit for you by himself when you woke up early to attend to your commitments.

He more or less lived at your house– what with all the work he had– and for that reason, although he’d never formally courted you, most of your employees knew of your relationship. You’d managed to keep it on a need-to-know basis with your parents, who approved of Taehyun, sure, but did not want such a union between you two to ruin their reputation. Gossip would one day be the end of your duchy, you were sure of it.

Ignoring the dilemma didn’t exist– and instead lazing about with your lover like this– was far less intense.

Your thoughts wandered back to the present when Taehyun began to read a familiar poem. Your ears perked up at that, because it was one of your favorites. You noticed he’d altered the words a little to better fit his emotions; Taehyun loved doing that with poems he liked.

“A rendition of a poem by Abel Tesfaye,” he said, plopping the book down softly. He knew that was your favourite poet, and smiled at the slight lift in your mood once he’d finished.

“Thank you,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “When did you work on that one?”

“Yesterday,” he shrugged, laughing softly. “While you dozed off.”

“I did not,” you protested, stifling your laughs as you got off him and fixed him with a faux glare.

Taehyun loved poking fun at your inability to stay up late. You’d been with him in the library late last night, having convinced your handmaiden to arrange dinner there for the two of you. As you sat at your bay window you ended up falling asleep to the sound of pen scratching against paper and Taehyun’s soft humming as he wrote away.

“Ah, my mistake. You must have simply been resting your eyes,” he teased.

Once your laughter had subsided, Taehyun shifted his position so that he was sitting upright beside you. “Care to tell me what’s on your mind now, my dear?”

“Oh, you know…” you stalled, tracing the patterns of your dress. “Just thinking about our future.”

“What about it?” he asked. “Has your mother proposed that we wed in a barn?”

“It’s not that…” you giggled nervously. “If we get married-”

“When,” he corrected softly with a chuckle.

“Okay, when,” you conceded, and the dread that filled your eyes somehow went unnoticed by him. “When we get married, we’ll obviously hold the wedding in here.”

“I’d like that as well,” he grinned, eyes big and adoring. “In the place where our love has grown to unimaginable heights.”

“Oh, Tyun...” you said, eyes welling with tears– and not the good kind. It was high time you told him what had been bothering you these past few weeks. “I- Yes I’d love to, but…”

His beaming smile faltered at the ‘but’.

“What’s the matter…? Is it about courtship? I’ll be formally asking your mother for your hand, don’t you worry about that.”

He knew how your parents felt about your relationship with him. They had nothing against Taehyun, but his title was far too low for them to take pride in. It was all about pride with them. Your mother couldn’t outright oppose it, as there was nothing illegal or inherently wrong about the union, but she made… comments.

“No, no,” you said shakily, turning away from him and facing the window to give you courage. He stood up, concern clouding his features as he put a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

“Actually, Taehyun, the thing is…” you started nervously. “I’m engaged.”

His face fell, the colour draining from it almost instantly. He stumbled backwards, disbelief evident on his features.

“Enga- what? But how?” He whispered. His usually strong and steady voice was faint.

You fumbled over your words, not daring to face your lover, who’s chest rose and fell rapidly with the impact of the confession. “My parents- They had this all arranged… I tried delaying it and I still can, b-but yes… my mother’s been processing my engagement.”

“What do you mean you’re engaged?” Taehyun shouted, shaking with the force of it. He rarely shouted and it made you recoil.

“Taehyun, listen I-”

“All this time, you’ve belonged to someone else?” He asked, breathless from the exertion of shouting. This was not the news he was expecting, so close to the day he was planning on formally proposing to you. He’d made so many plans, and his dream of being yours for the rest of his days was crumbling right before his eyes.

“I still have time to change this, don’t you see?” You tried reasoning, turning to face him. “Taehyun, I’ve been under so much pressure trying to fight this alone.”

The auburn-haired boy scoffed and turned away from you. “But why didn’t you say anything? Why play with me like this?”

You reached out for him but he moved away, his eyes a medley of anger and anguish.

“I’m not playing with you, Taehyun. I didn’t mention it because it’s not yet official. I can fix this, marry you instead,” you said, walking up to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shrugged it off, walking to his desk and busying himself with the books laying there to give himself something to do.

“Taehyun, you know I love you,” you said firmly, placing your hand on his back.

“I have no doubt about that, my dear,” he sighed and turned around, finally letting your reasoning seep through his initial shock. It was a silly little thought… to think you would love anyone but him. Yet his doubts still lingered. “It’s just that…”

“What is it?” you asked, frowning. If he believed you and understood then what was the problem?

“Your fiancé, he is of a higher ranking than I, correct?”

“I- well, yes,” you said, taken aback by his question. “But Taehyun, it doesn’t matter. Being a viscountess isn’t half bad, you know. It’ll mean less work. My younger sister can be duchess instead, heaven knows she’d absolutely love that.”

You tried to make a joke of it, as you often did when being weighed down by serious situations. Taehyun found the habit endearing. He turned to face you once more, finding himself laughing as he cupped your face in his hands.

“I suppose I don’t want to lose my spot in your heart,” he said dejectedly. “Simply because of my title…”

“You know I couldn’t care less about those stupid rules,” you added, dismissing his worries with a wave of your hand. “The hard part is over, I hadn’t figured out how I was going to tell you. Now that you know we can work on this together.”

He called you by your full name, a teasing habit he’d adopted during his love confessions that he presented through the poems and songs he wrote. “I’m with you every step of the way.”

Taehyun unexpectedly leaned in then, placing a chaste kiss to your lips. He usually would draw out your anticipation, staring deep into your eyes and letting your breathes mingle before he finally sealed the gap. His lips pressed against yours in a manner that indicated his fear of losing you. Yours, in turn, sealed his with reassurance.

“I won’t let my mother separate us,” you said determinedly once the two of you had broken apart.

“How about…” he said thoughtfully. “My dear, why don’t you take up your rightful place as duchess. That way, you can make that decision and every other one for yourself.”

Taehyun was tired of seeing you being pulled this way and that based on other people’s whims. It was time you took control of your own life… from the hands of people who had no regard for it.

“I’ll be right by your side,” he promised. “Take back your life. You’d be surprised to know how many people would be on your side.”

Having been up and down these halls for a while, Taehyun knew your estate’s gossip better than you ever would; he was a confidant to most, and knew that a lot of people here would be happier if someone like you took over its management.

“You’ve always had the best ideas,” you smiled, reconsidering your view of what your life as a duchess could hold if the tables were turned and you found a way to get out of being your mother’s puppet.

“Did you ever doubt that?” he teased, abruptly hooking his arms under yours and spinning you around. You squealed in laughter and the sound made his heart soar.

For as long as you’d have him, Taehyun vowed to himself that he’d keep you close and out of harm’s way. The two of you could spend forever like this; two sides of one coin… Or better, to sides of the same page in a book that one treasures for years to come.

⚝A/N: This has taken forever to post I know dgchfjdkd😫 Thank you for your patience guys ❣ I worked really hard to put this out and I hope you enjoy it xx lots of love as always! Remember to share your thoughts with me, I'm always super stoked to hear them :)

⚝TAGLIST: @mental-hollows @forever-in-the-sky2 @yaevsi [prev. yizki] @bangchansbae @woncheecks

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fern-hounds · 3 months

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under cut for pictures and descriptions ⬇️⬇️⬇️

safe to assume they're all pan and poly for the sake of the poll Lethellis: If you like someone with dark and moody color palettes, good with their hands and even better at reading others, and the idea of a 2-3 year long slow burn in which trust and devotion are built, congrats! You're getting a life long partner who's practically your shadow who would kill for you.

5'11 (180 cm) ✦ Thief ✦ They/It

Linnet: If your type is big soft man who would build a house for you from scratch, you're in luck! He's a bit on the quiet side, but his love language is actions, and he puts in the work. Loves to cook, and feels like sleeping with a heated blanket. His hands might be rough, but his heart is nothing but soft.

6'7 (201 cm) ✦ Engineer ✦ He/Him

Myrr: If you ever wondered if you could find love in a bog, you're in the right place! This swamp looking sylvari has a heart of gold, with some home cooking that can't be beat. A romantic night by the water with the sounds of the frogs croaking, the fireflies glowing, while enjoying a tasty and hearty stew. Bring a bottle of wine you would like, she's used to something a bit stronger. If you're brave, you could try a sip, but be careful. The moonshine she's drinking could strip the paint off a barn.

5'6 (166 cm) ✦ Necromancer ✦ She/They

Eidhneán: You're gonna have to ask this poor pining plant out yourself. He's thought through of so many scenarios of asking to be your valentine but he's shy, and couldn't work up the courage. Big fan of poetry and reading. Knows where all the best coffee shops are at. After being assured that you like him back, he builds more courage and would leave you little love notes.

5'3 (160 cm) ✦ Warrior ✦ He/Him

Caislán: Big buff butch. That's your type. And your type is correct. She will quite literally sweep you off your feet. Shameless flirt and has little filter. Will plow you like a field. Showoff and showboats for you, bonus if you're a healer/mender to patch her up after. She'll ask you to kiss her better.

6'5 (196 cm) ✦ Elementalist ✦ She/Her

Féithlin: You're a romantic. Not lowkey, no no no. You like highkey and high fantasy. You saw the kind of romantic devotion in The Princess Bride and knew what you were about. This gnc mage could blast Wizard Howl out of the water and still have time to conjure a bouquet of your favorite flowers. Well-versed and well-mannered, you wonder if the mesmer is all talk and tricks, but it's all genuine. If chivalry, devotion, and fun chemistry is your idea of a good time, they've found you.

5'10 (178 cm) ✦ Mesmer ✦ Any Pronouns

Rosyth: You've caught yourself looking lovingly at one or two or more of the warden npcs in game. It's okay, we've all done it. This ex-warden now pact lieutenant notices you and smiles back. Brave enough to come to you first. Courteous, charismatic, and cordial come to mind. If you have a soft spot for the chivalrous knight-type, you can rest assure your heart is in safe hands.

5'5 (166 cm) ✦ Guardian ✦ They/Them

Kienán: Tall and stoic, they probably come off as a little intimidating at first. Once you spend some time with them though, you see they're just polite and quiet. They enjoy sharing space together, and notice actions over words. Maybe it's their calming demeanor, or low soft-spoken voice, but you find yourself dozing off working with them; only to wake up later having been carried to somewhere better suited to sleep on than a chair, and covered with what looks like a hand knitted blanket.

6'1 (186 cm) ✦ Revenant ✦ They/Them

Rónah: You're a sucker for golden retriever energy! Actual sunshine. Always happy to see you and makes even a bad day turn around into something nice. Lives up to the stereotype of wlw who moves in together after a week of dating. Hope you like pets!

5'11 (181 cm) ✦ Ranger ✦ She/Her

#no commanders in this poll because of option limits but if people have fun with this one i'll do one for the triplets too!

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luukeskywalker · 5 months

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If you're ok with it, deezstral with #74?

I AM ABSOLUTELY OKAY WITH IT AND UNFORTUNATELY THIS MIGHT BE FUNNY ONLY TO ME BUT C'EST LA VIE

the song is Elephant Bones by That Handsome Devil and at first i considered some sort of apocalypse au, but i think what i went with instead was much more fun for me to write:

“If you had to be stuffed and put on display in a museum like this, what pose would you want to be stuck in?”

Vurows looked at Zistral with wide eyes. “Are you offering?”

“Um, no.” Zistral shrugged. “The thought just came to me.” There was a pause as Zistral thought about Vurows’s reaction. “Did you think I was flirting with you?”

“I…don’t know. You said the word ‘stuffed’ so I – well –”

This was not an appropriate discussion to be having in public, but that was nothing new for the two of them. Other museum-goers walked quickly past them, averting their eyes and ears.

“I mean, I didn’t mean it in a flirty way. I was just thinking–”

Honestly, what had he been thinking? Sometimes thoughts, questions, even ideas came to him almost as if from somewhere else. Maybe it was a leftover effect of his days as a sky-walker, or maybe it had something to do with how he got his third sight back. But he always felt as if there was something out there watching him, or guiding him, or just straight-up controlling him.

None of that really mattered at the moment though. For once, they were having a museum date to themselves, and the galaxy wasn’t actively ending due to certain other party members’ propensity for senseless violence. They stood in front of one of those large displays that showed a few taxidermied animals posed around their appropriate environment, and Zistral got a long look at some unidentified feline creature’s yawning mouth and sharp tusks. He felt a shiver run up his spine.

“When I was an Inquisitor, there was this weird museum-thing that – uh, well, honestly it was kinda dark. Literally and metaphorically, cuz it was not very well lit in there. But there were some, umm, deceased Force users all propped up in there. Someone had to have posed them, right?”

Vurows frowned thoughtfully. “I wonder if I could do that to Thevaro. Maybe we could keep him as a trophy after I kill him.” His face scrunched up a bit after thinking about it a little longer. “Actually, nevermind. I don’t think there’d be much left to pose. And also I don’t like looking at him.”

“That is so not the point I am trying to make, but I appreciate the creativity, thank you.” Zistral squeezed Vurows’s hand a little and turned back to the museum display. “Please don’t kill him, also.”

“No promises.”

Zistral felt a stress headache coming on. “Well let’s not think about all that right now. I think if I died and had to be a museum display, I’d want to be posed like, peeking out from under a cardboard box, so you can only see my eyes or something.”

“I’m not letting the museum keep you.” Vurows said quickly. “I’ll steal you back.”

“Oh,” Zistral said, “I kind of figured we were gonna die together and like, get donated at the same time or something. Like maybe we’re both under the box, I dunno.”

The thought was romantic…to him, at least. Two of his favorite things. “Maybe we’re in a Dagobah display or something and they’ll import some swamp water in and we’re both posed like we’re drinking it.”

Vurows gagged.

Zistral sighed. “Okay, I’m the only one drinking it. What would you be doing?”

“I can’t believe you would choose to be drinking swamp water forever over being in a cute pose with me.” Vurows looked like he was about to get moody.

But – how could you ask Zistral to choose between his two great loves?!

“I mean, we’re both in the Dagobah display together, right? We can splash around in the swamp, or maybe we’re training behind Yoda’s hut, or something.”

“Hmm…or something.” Vurows raised a brow as he considered the options. “I don’t think our display would be allowed in this museum.”

Wait. Was he implying–

“I am not letting someone pose my pussy.” Zistral said.

“But you let me–”

So much for a museum date. They were told in no uncertain terms to never come back.

#irizi'stra'lias #kivu'row'spar #deeztral #spoiler alert deez's real name is vurows DKJHFGDF #my writing #writing meme #ct-hardcase #ask

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murfpersonalblog · 7 months

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My IWTV Dream - Dracula meets Beauty & the Beast

I am the most disoriented person ever. I just woke up from the most detailed dream--it felt so real that I swore I had missed the premier of IWTV--not Season 2, but Season ONE y'all. 😅

But it was VERY different from AMC's IWTV, and now I know why, cuz last night I was rewatching WWDITS, and the day before that I was watching the premier of the new Castlevania series with my friends (we ended up gushing about IWTV and other vampire shows). Which explains a lot of why my dream went the way it did.

Ok, so it was still AMC!Loustat, and it was still 1910, but it was actually a Dracula/Beauty & the Beast fusion. After Louis' father died & left the DPDLs broke, Louis left NOLA to become an accountant/real estate agent/assistant for Marquis de Lioncourt, an uber rich European whose newspaper post he'd answered. (He took the job cuz MdL promised to send a HUGE advancement ahead of time, covering travel expenses & stuff, which Louis split with his family back in NOLA.) The Marquis wants to invest in properties across Europe & America, and needs someone to handle his daytime operations--basically, Louis is Roget & Johnathan Harker & Renfield.

Louis boards a ship to Europe, takes the steamtrain to France, and arrives by horse carriage at the Marquis' dilapidated chateau/castle (in my dream it's technically France, but it felt like Transylvania--again, I was watching Castlevania the other day & had Dracula on the brain).

The Marquis de Lioncourt is of course Lestat, but Dracula/Beauty & the Beast style he's not hot yet when they first meet--"velcome to my home~"--he's all gnarly Swamp King chic, "dead but delicious."

But that doesn't stop Les from charming Louis--reading his mind, talking/acting funny, and all his homoerotic "tricks," so Louis doesn't notice the dude's a frikkin corpse.

Louis asks the villagers in Auvergne about the Lioncourts, and they all say every Marquis over the generations has been weird (they're all Lestat, but the villagers don't know that, ofc), but that the Lioncourts keep the area safe from predators (LOL) and even send money to the needy so the whole town stays prosperous. Sure, people tend to go missing, stop asking questions! 👀

Eros & Psyche style, Louis very quickly catches on that the chateau is magic/haunted--ghost!Magnus is Cogsworth/Lumiere & ghost!Claudia is Chip/Mrs Potts. (He can sense & hear them, and kinda see them, cuz the DPDLs are distantly related to the Mayfairs through Julien, like in AMC's original pilot script.) They're barely enough to keep him company, but they're also withholding info like everyone else.

A lot of my dream was Louis managing Lestat's investments & exploring the chateau during the day--it's all super lavish Art Nouveau, like AMC's townhouse, but grimy & charred, like everything's 100 years old and been through a fire. Only Louis' wing is kept habitable. Wolves roam freely around the property, and though they're not tame, for some reason they never bother Louis. And ofc the West Wing is off limits. There's also the whole deal with music & magic--Louis hears Lestat playing the piano & violin obsessively, kinda like Edward Scissorhands with his ice sculptures & topiaries, or AR's Julien Mayfair & his haunted victrola. He hears the piano around sunset, almost like an alarm clock letting him know that Lestat is awake & might be available to talk. The violin is weird though, playing during the daytime when Lestat told Louis he would never be around, and when Louis asked if anyone else was in the house he was told No. At night Lestat plays piano beautifully for Louis sometimes (never the violin), and they talk & chat & get on well enough, but Lestat is also a moody manchild recluse with no manners, so "modernizing" him takes a lot of work & patience. Especially since he constantly skulks in the shadows, keeps the lights off/dim, and avoids letting Louis really ever look at him head on.

Of course there's the Library Scene TM (and ofc Lestat's useless arse is illiterate). Louis reads up on the Lioncourts, and realizes that the math ain't mathin, as Lestat, the villagers, the ghosts, and even the books aren't telling him anything substantial about the history of the area, family, chateau--nada. As Lestat's accountant he has access to the taxes/ledgers/etc, that only go as far as corroborating what the villagers already told him about centuries of Lioncourt Marquises all named Lestat--this current lord is the 7th generation (Lestat VII). But the longer Louis stays there, he starts becoming more sensitive/aware of the magic/curse on the chateau.

Soon enough, Louis starts having crazy dreams, glimpses of the chateau all restored and gorgeous, and populated by a whole court of people--by their voices he realizes that 2 of them are Magnus & Claudia. Most importantly, he sees the real Lestat, who's beautiful & debonair, and the only one he can actually talk to & engage with in the dream. Because basically, Lestat is seducing Louis in his sleep/head like some creeper.

Louis starts looking forward to going to sleep, so he can meet hot!Lestat in his dreams--black tar heroin to the rings of Saturn, etc. The dubcon is strong, cuz Lestat's like an incubus feeding on Louis in his sleep & taking Little Drinks; "I was being on hunted." Finally Louis is lucid enough to realize that Lestat's a vampire/loup garou--only seeing him at night, never eating, eavesdropping/catching him having literal conversations with the creatures of the night, etc. The longer Louis lived there, and the more Lestat drank from him, the younger/healthier Lestat started appearing when Louis was awake. Louis thought it was him rehabilitating/modernizing Lestat that caused the change, when really it was just his blood. Was anything between them real? The monstrous Lestat was more honest than the beautiful one!

Lestat lovebombs Louis, swearing that his affection is real, it's just that the dreams were a necessary evil. Louis asks why, but Lestat doesn't speak up. Assuming Lestat was too insecure to seduce/court him as a cadaver, Louis assures Lestat that he didn't need to be glamoured to accept the supernatural, not when the place is crawling with ghosts. Lestat admits that he was surprised that Louis could sense/hear them, and that's when he knew he could try reaching Louis through dreams. Things are going well until Lestat opens his big mouth and also admits that he gave Louis his blood in his sleep, which upsets Louis even more. Louis won't leave/quit, but he's not at all happy with Lestat's deceptions and ices him out--next time they talk or lay together, it will be on Louis' terms or not at all!

Later on, Louis realizes that it was Lestat's blood that made him more sensitive to the chateau's magic over time--not enough to turn him into a vampire, but more than enough to trigger his latent Mayfair abilities. He notices the entire chateau smells like smoke--the dirt and dust everywhere is actually ash. Magnus & Claudia's ghosts are sharper and Louis can actually see them now, too. Immediately he sees that both Magnus and Claudia are covered in burns. He asks what happened to them, but they literally cannot talk about it. He realizes that it's part of the curse. If he asks them direct Yes/No questions, they can answer him--so he learns that yes, they both died in a fire in the chateau a long time ago, and yes there is a curse, and yes Louis can help them, and yes they know how, and no they can't tell him how, and yes they know who cursed them, and yes the one who did it is still in the chateau. Only when he asks if it's Lestat, the ghosts just clam up and vanish.

So Louis goes investigating the next morning. The forbidden West Wing is locked off, but when he forces it open and rummages around he learns that it's actually Gabrielle's old bedroom. The REAL mess Louis finds is in the basement, Bluebeard/QotD style. He heard that same violin again, coming from the lower levels, and followed it to a secret door. In the basement is Lestat's coffin room, sealed tight cuz Lestat's asleep during the day. But there's also a stench coming from down the hall. It's not the smokey smell the curse had glamored away, this is a REAL stench: it's Lestat's blood-dungeon, where he keeps the Evil Doers he drains & kills--there's old bloody jars labelled Blood of a Murderer, Rapist, Thief, etc. (The reason Les was half starved is because the village is small and pickings are slim.)

Louis is horrified, and gets turned around when he stumbles out of the dungeon. He finds a gorgeous music room, with an old violin surrounded by faded sheet music--this must be where the violin Louis hears everyday is being played. He sits down to catch his breath, not really caring about investigating any further, but before he can even collect his thoughts Lestat barges into the room screaming for Louis to get out and not touch anything and leave.

Naturally, Louis runs for the hills. ghost!Claudia & Magnus follow him, begging him to come back, but he ignores them. He gets lost, and on the edge of the village in the woods is what turns out to be an old cemetery--Les Innocents, which is crawling with revenants.

Armand's coven abducts Louis and drags him into the catacombs, easily pulling from his mind that Louis was living with Lestat. He mercilessly harasses Louis, saying something about "doing to him what he did to Nicki," and how he'll use Louis as bait to jump Lestat and steal his secrets (about Those Who Must Be Kept ofc). But Louis insists that because Lestat kicked him out, he's not coming. But Louis' not helpless--ghost!Claudia & Magnus find Louis, and help him escape by burning the place down while the vamps are all asleep.

Louis runs back into the woods, as firemen from the village come to keep the fire from spreading--they're not even tryna go near Les Innocents, as they're actually well aware that Lestat & Armand have vampire territorial beef, and assume that Lestat must've finally decided to kick Armand out for good. No one told Lou that they knew about vamps, cuz as an outsider/stranger he wouldn't understand.

The ghosts ask Louis what he'll do now, but he's all shaken up. It doesn't matter anyway, cuz out of the mist comes Lestat like Mr. Darcy, headed right for Louis. Lestat is a sobbing weeping mess, and the blood loss from all his crying has degenerated him back to his cadaver-like form--Louis at first fears he's another of Armand's revenants. Lestat was scared he was too late--by the time he'd decided to go after Louis, the sun had risen, and Armand already had Louis locked up--and humans don't last long under Les Innocents. Louis says the ghosts helped him. Lestat is relieved; Louis' a strong witch, as only witches can get ghosts to help them so far away from the place they died. Louis asks "Is Nicki a ghost, too? Is he the one who's been playing violin everyday? Is he the one who cursed you? Is Nicki the one who can lift it?"

The floodgates open--Lestat can answer Yes/No questions, so he says Yes, Nicki was Lestat's lover back when they were both human, hundreds of years ago; they both loved playing music together, and dreamed of touring the world in a troupe. Magnus turned Lestat and took Lestat as his protege in the Blood. All the other servants were scared off, but Claudia was left behind & abandoned, so Lestat turned her. Nicki refused to be turned, appalled by their vampirism. The rival vampire in the area Armand kidnapped Nicki as leverage to get Magnus and/or Lestat to give up the secret of TWMBK (cuz Magnus knows Rhoshamandes, and Rhosh is from the First Brood). Magnus refused to say anything, even if Nicki would be killed, and convinced Lestat not to start a vampire war with Armand, who was gonna leave Lestat soon anyway. When Nicki learned of this betrayal, he cursed Lestat and the whole household: a fire started in the chateau the same night Armand killed Nicki, taking out Magnus & Claudia, and leaving Lestat burned & disfigured for centuries. Nicki's curse was a deadlock: the ghosts can't leave the castle, Lestat can't leave the village, and Armand can't leave Les Innocents. The best they can do is lure people to them. And they couldn't tell anyone about it, either--but ofc curses have loopholes, which is why Yes/No questions work.

Louis asks if he was lured as prey to the chateau, and Lestat laughs, it honestly was a coincidence that a human with witch-blood would answer his post--he really did need an assistant/accountant, to make sure his estate could maintain the villagers if anything happened to him; Lestat was certain he was dying before Louis showed up. The dreams were the only way Lestat could be whole again, away from Nicki's curse, safe in Louis' mind. Not everything in the dreams were his doing--Louis' own magic made it way stronger than it normal. But when Lestat realized he could speak freely in the dreams, he should have been honest with Louis, so he understands if Louis wants to leave--this has been a nightmare.

But Louis asks to be taken back to the chateau. Loustat & the ghosts all head back. Lo and behold, even though it's nighttime, the violin can be heard all the way outside, and when they enter the chateau Nicki's ghost is standing right there at the front door. Louis is very empathetic & sympathetic, and urges Nicki to release the curse so that he too can be free of this place. Lestat apologizes too, but Nicki's not really interested in what he has to say, LOL. Nicki hands Louis the old violin, and Louis smashes it, sets it on fire, and scatters the ashes out in the garden. Nicki vanishes for good, and Magnus & Claudia's souls are free.

As for Loustat, they decide to renovate the chateau. While it's under construction, they'll travel the world together. Louis remains Lestat's accountant/agent until they hire a new one (Roget), so that Lestat can turn Louis. They become vampire companions, and have a much healthier relationship.

I have insomnia, and these dreams are NOT helping.

#loustat #headcanons #interview with the vampire

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wonder-in-wings · 8 months

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TIMING: Early/Mid August LOCATION: The Beach PARTIES: Levi (@faustianbroker and Parker (@wonder-in-wings SUMMARY: During one of his enforced days off, Parker visits the beach where he encounters a shifted and very moody Leviathan. CONTENT WARNINGS: Teeth trauma Day 9. For someone who was as fond of swimming as Parker, he sure hated the beach. He and his family would go to the ones in Louisiana on occasion in his youth but every instance he spent out of the water, on the sand, clambering in and out of the car and feeling the salt from the water crusting over him like a shell of misery and needles on his skin was nightmarish. As a child he didn’t like dry sand on him, he didn’t like it getting into every crevice, how his hair felt afterwards.

His parents never told him that the swamp waters of the bayou were often similar, estuaries of fresh and saltwater creeping into the mainland though usually they were too far inward for it to really count. Parker loved swimming around their isolated chateau, finding little animals and especially bugs, which was a given by now. Occasionally he’d find a snake or even a gator. As per his mind, the young Warden was never afraid of these creatures with their sharp teeth, deadly venom and powerful musculature. These were all but memories in Parker’s mind as he sat there on the beach, having taken a small towel as though that would protect him from the awful sand even if he’d long since grown used to how it felt, deciding some odd years ago that it was unreasonable for him to find textures displeasurable. He was wearing a white linen shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and only buttoned a few times near his naval. The Warden was wearing jeans, though, as he had no intention of going into the water this time - part of him wanted to, for sure, but though the injury on his face had lent itself nicely to a pronounced scar that permanently colored his features, he didn’t want to get salt water on it. Not yet. And, of course, the strange, busy utility belt rested comfortably on his waist; he likely wasn’t ever going to leave it behind again, not after the past week and a half he’d had. It was a comfort object, something for him to know was always there, something that helped focus him. An object of security for an unstable mind. He didn’t want to risk having another unintended “meltdown” in public. Parker hated calling them that, they weren’t true but at this point, he had no idea what else to call them other than “bitch fits”, which was below him. That was a term for the disparaging illiterates online. The thought riled something up in his stomach, but he had since tried to come to terms with these inflammations of emotion and had started experimenting with temporary coping mechanisms to deal with them. Today he was clenching and unclenching a fist in a rhythmic fashion, repeating it until his insides simmered down.

It was going fine.

That is, until he heard someone scream. The pitch managed to puncture through his thoughts and Parker turned his head sharply in the direction of it. As it turned out, it was a woman talking to another woman and pointing worriedly to a distant part of the beach, a rocky place where no one was populating it either in the water or on the sand next to it. Instantly he felt intrigued - if she screamed and pointed, surely that meant that there could’ve been something over there, right? Perhaps a shark or even… His mind filled with curiosity at the thought that he could see a nereid, unlikely as that was. Parker got to his feet, abandoning the towel as he started to make his way over to the part that was gestured towards, finding potential in the rocky shoals and rough waves.

—

A hulking figure had beached itself in the hard-to-reach cove, and that figure would have been thankful for the cover of high rocky walls on either side of it, if not for the anger that had driven it there in the first place. Well, anger and pain. Its muscles ached with fatigue that was not its own—it was an all-over sensation that seeped deep into the tissue, pain receptors alight as if they’d been set ablaze by some intangible, invisible instigator… which was true. It was the tether that tormented the demon, sapping it of its strength and its ability to tamp down those large, deadly emotions that it felt. The tether was the cause of its ire in every way that it could be, at this moment—it was what both inspired and allowed the wrath to run rampant. Being human in any capacity was like a lightning rod for complex and big feelings, and the demon didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Seeing what had happened to Teddy forced Leviathan to recognize what had been happening to it, and it was not on board. It’d been playing at this for too long. This ‘game’, this experiment… it was detrimental. It made Leviathan care too much. And caring, well, that was dangerous. That was foolish.

But just because it had realized this didn’t mean it could immediately stop. So instead, the demon returned to the sea and took out its frustration on any and every human vessel it encountered, sinking them to the depths with a voracious appetite as if trying to remind itself of what it was meant to be. How it was meant to act. Unfortunately, all that destruction came with a cost—one cracked tooth that now throbbed painfully and had sent the beast into a pitiable fit. Which was when it had beached itself, and now it lay there, sides heaving, feeling too upset and sorry for itself to do anything other than bake in the sun. Its long neck and massive, dragon-like head were pushed up into the dry sand, half buried as it had thrashed about during the fit, jaws agape to keep pressure off of the aching tooth, tongue lolled onto the sand. Flippers dug deep into the wet sand beneath its chest and belly, the huge sail fin on its back quivering in the wind, and feeding tentacles flopped uselessly in the shallow water. The tail, nearly as long as the rest of the creature combined, whipped dangerously this way and that, almost like a cat displaying its anger. It moaned, the sound coming out like the thunderous, rumbling bellow of a crocodile, followed by a hiss as it pushed all the air from its lungs.

—

There were warnings in his head, warnings that told Parker that he should’ve turned around. He’d already gotten into a handful of scrapes, some of which were successful but none of them had given him the satisfaction of collecting, a validation that he craved from an unknown source. He hadn’t slept the night that he took the nymph’s tail to his workshop - he hadn’t slept the night before, either. Every attempt plunged him into an abyss of shadowed nightmares that didn’t exist, so he decided to forgo it in favor of his body crashing when it was ready. He ascended a treacherous rock wall slowly and carefully as he heard an uncomfortably loud and almost alien sound he knew was coming from the other side of the rough face he hugged. The warnings in his head were almost louder at this point but Parker kept his sleep-deprived blue eyes facing up and forwards; his biggest concern at the moment was that he didn’t grow up with this type of terrain and he was unaccustomed to it. One would’ve thought that the sound alone was enough to send shivers of terror into a reasonable mind, calling vague images of sea monsters to the forefront of the imagination. Parker had no such desire for self-preservation that outweighed his curiosity. As he climbed, eventually pulling himself over the edge, those same sleep-deprived eyes first caught sight of a gigantic, piscine sail. His breath caught in his throat at that sight but as his eyes drifted back down to see what the sail belonged to, he found himself seemingly gazing into an abyss. Surely the… creature? Anomaly? Old One? Parker wasn’t even sure how to refer to what he was looking at but he was immediately stricken with a primal fear.

The Warden had found himself on the edge, staring down at a massive abomination, a monstrosity that had been written about by Lovecraft in the throes of paranoia, the pirates who would mark such serpents on their maps. A dragon that was described in multiple religious texts. It moaned, a crocodilian hiss that was all too familiar in Parker’s mind though he couldn’t be sure what it meant. This was a powerful beast his curiosity had willed him to find, and it seemed beached. Surely it wasn’t dying…? Eyeing the long, almost recognizable whip-like tail as it flickered not unlike that of… well, an irritated jaguar, he pulled his legs over the edge and, incredibly foolishly, started to slide down the rock face, effectively placing him into the den of the leviathan creature. Whatever warnings that Parker had rattling around in his brain were falling on half-deaf ears. He was there now, at the mercy of the beached serpent.

—

It picked up on the human’s presence before it saw them, but that mattered little. What was a mouse to an apex predator, even in this state? What danger could any of them really present? It left the creature with room to be dramatic, room to play for pity. It would be amusing, if not for the very real sense of desperation that ran through the cold, dark marble of the Leviathan’s heart like thick veins of gold, all sparkling and enticing and ready to turn brother against brother, father against son.

So it simply continued to lay there, sucking in another deep breath and letting its eyes roll in their sockets as they followed the human down the cliffside until his feet met the warm sand.

Then, the sea demon lifted its head, pulling that sand-caked tongue back into its long jaws as it shut them gently, craning its neck to look at the human. Fuck, it was tired. Even the burden of holding its head up was too much to weather, and the demon let it drop to the beach again, blasting air and seawater out of its nostrils as it blinked its many small eyes in the human’s direction. The weight of its own skull pulled by gravity down onto the broken tooth sent waves of pain through its whole head and neck and it bellowed again, electing to just keep the jaws parted as it rolled onto its side.

Whatever that person was doing here, they could get their fill of spectacle and then fuck right off, it figured. No one would believe him, anyway. No one sane. And those that did believe, well, they’d know better than to fuck around, else they find out.

Another low whine escaped the creature’s chest as it continued to feel very sorry for itself, angry at the stupid metal for cracking its tooth rather than feeling foolish for throwing such a tantrum in the first place. It was well within reason to be upset, wasn’t it? Teddy had nearly died and now it needed to find a way to end their shared power before Teddy managed to do something even worse and cause irreparable damage. Not unlike this tooth. Fuck’s sake.

—

Parker wasn’t on the sandy shore for long when the great beast lifted its giant head just long enough to regard him before letting it fall again, another roar tearing the air. Its head on the ground sent a tremor through both it and the Warden and he instinctively lifted his hand to cover his good ear, protecting what hearing he had left from the terrifying sound. He should’ve been afraid. And maybe he was. But contrary to every other instance he’d experienced up until this point, the ones with shifters, fae, humans, himself, Parker felt he must’ve gone so far in one direction that it looped back around to him keeping himself calm and controlled. He breathed deeply, shielding his face from the sea sprayed air that the leviathan exhaled but otherwise very slowly making his way towards the massive beast. He wasn’t sure why he kept advancing. Maybe this would be where the Collector, the broken son of the Wright Warden Legacy would meet his end. Even beached, half-buried in the sand and flopping about like a dying animal, the man knew that absolutely nothing he could have attempted to do would’ve been enough to keep the serpent from effortlessly killing him. As he approached, holding one hand to his ear and the other hand protecting the lower half of his face, Parker felt something tugging in his chest, something that he was sure wasn’t the case. He was reminded of an alligator with its reptilian maw, the way it hissed, the teeth that were the size of Parker’s torso as they clacked pitifully against each other. The Warden seemed smaller than the dragon’s tongue, and yet he didn’t feel fear pulling at him as he now stood close enough to feel the temperature of the scaled skin that stretched across the titanic skull, but still very visible to the beast’s many-eyed gaze. “You’re in pain.” It didn’t sound right, not really, not compared to something of that magnitude and magnificence, but the sentence still tumbled out of Parker’s mouth. He was reminded of an alligator… one that he found with the splinters of a harpoon lodged in its jaw, similar in behavior and evoking a very small, but intimate part of the Warden’s recently reawakened emotions.

—

Black blood ran along its gray tongue, oozing slowly from the injured tooth. That same blood coated the inside of Leviathan’s gargantuan mouth, turning the purplish, blueish, grayish landscape into that of a pitch black night sky on the verge of splitting open to release a powerful storm.

Those seafoam green eyes fixed themselves on the human, and the beast chuffed miserably, kicking sand into the air with the force of the blast from its maw.

Very astute, it chided, the voice coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once, ringing in the human’s head rather than actually carrying itself upon soundwaves. It sounded like the promise of pain; guttural and animalistic and old, if such a thing could be conveyed by voice alone.

Have you come to gawk, then? Or perhaps you intend to run off and tell everyone what you’ve seen? What could they do in the face of such power? Nothing, it knew. Nothing, yet it still felt that nagging irritation at the idea of having to slither back into the sea because its alone-time had been interrupted by a gaggle of rubberneckers.

—

It was then that Parker heard a chorus of voices hammering in his head, all saying the same thing but clear, not marred by his deficient hearing. It was deep, it was resonant, it sent an involuntary pulse of primal panic through the Warden’s frame as it felt as though he were injected with the words instead of given them for him to listen to or not of his own volition. He could only assume that whatever this creature was, it had the power of telepathy, something completely and utterly alien to the man, who until very recently kept his thoughts and emotions under lock and key. A blast door rusted shut with age and neglect.

Suffice to say, since that blast door rusted shut with age and neglect had since been ripped open without his consent, the shiver of fear as the beast projected its words into his head, shook him violently and Parker had to breathe through his mouth to keep from either turning and climbing back up the rocky wall as fast as he possibly could or passing out on the spot from the pressure. He took a deep breath and felt his brow twitch as he regarded the leviathan, looking into its numerous eyes with his simple two. “Neither.” He said, unable to hide the tremor that carried itself in his tone despite giving the monster a look that showed no fear at all. The dragon could implant its voice into Parker’s head, surely it knew the adrenaline that coursed through his body but he was determined to push through it, not give in the fear, the emotions. He took a step forward as his mother’s voice soothed his mind, a calming presence after the thunderous voice of what he could only assume was a god or a demon. ‘My son, be gentle for me’. It was the same voice he heard when he got into the altercation with Felix. Parker… wasn’t a murderer, he was a collector. He wasn’t a gawker, he was observant. He wasn’t a gossip, he was incredibly private. He didn’t like the insinuation that he was here to gawk or run and tell other people; they were cowards. They didn’t have the courage to do what Parker did, scale the wall to find Dagon on the other side. They didn’t get to relish in the splendor of the sea beast, wither under its scrutinizing gaze, be made acutely aware of their own scope in relation to what existed out there. It was… humbling. He hated it but he couldn’t reject it as it sent waves of humility, fear, and anger through his body. “I…” He sighed softly, more of a breath than an expulsion of air. “Don’t suppose there’s anything I can do to…” Parker swallowed, the smell of blood in his nose. “Help.”

—

Curious. The stranger wanted to help.

The division between the beast and the human visage it wore had always been pronounced—when it played house, it took on human behaviors. The more time it spent living that life, the easier assimilation became, and the beast was almost forgotten, at times. Until the sea called to it, until tentacles reached up to grasp the demon by the ankles and drag it back below the waves where it belonged.

As it was now, it lost sight of the human aspects it had adopted over the years. It forgot, in a way, what it was to be human, until it assumed that form once more. And the longer it remained inhuman, the colder and more distant it became. After so much time resigning itself to the sea, Leviathan was more like its true self than anyone in this town had ever known it to be. Even Teddy, who called the being father, had always managed to conjure up its tender side. One that simply would not have existed if not for their connection. As it had looked upon the babe those many years ago, it had been pure curiosity that had driven its actions.

Over time, curiosity turned to affection.

Now it turned to something else.

That unwavering, piercing gaze held the man’s form in its sights for many long seconds after he had finished speaking, as if weighing the offer to see how much of it was truth. There was no reason for the man to speak falsehoods, he could simply run if he felt so inclined, yet he did not. And so, it decided to humor him. What would help? Remove the offending body part.

Cut it out, it hissed inside his head, the voice rolling over itself like an echo of the ocean’s waves that lapped at its hindquarters. The tooth. It opened its mouth wider, righting its head and rolling back onto its belly to make gaining access easier. Deep in the creature’s maw was a fang that had a fracture running from base to tip, slicked in black blood and, if the human would crawl into the jaws of death to inspect it, would wiggle in its spot with a gentle push.

—

The rumbling of the serpent’s voices in Parker’s head was expected this time and while it still unsettled his mind, he now had a response to his inquiry and surprisingly enough, it wasn’t a bellow to get out of the sight of the dragon, to turn and flee as he was told for having long worn out his welcome by virtue of existing in the same space as it. Instead, it spoke to him again, telling him to cut it out. Fortunately, the creature specified what he wanted for the Warden to ‘cut out’ as before, it was a nebulous instruction. He was reminded of those times he’d bothered his brother. ‘Cut it out’, he said, referring to the younger Warden’s questions. The monster’s jaw opened further and Parker took a few small steps back as the beast adjusted its head, appearing like the mouth of a cave as the words were sent to the man’s mind. A tooth. His eyes weren’t gifted in the ways that other hunters were but even in the darkened maw of the leviathan, he managed to easily find the supposed afflicted tooth - in the back, coated in black blood that gave it a glisten and it appeared abyssal. Split with herculean effort and the sight alone sent an all-too-human pang through the man.

Daring to venture closer, Parker cast a quick glance up into the seafoam eyes once more and he placed his hands on the lower jaw of the beast. “Okay.” He exhaled, finding the blood mixed with the monster’s breath unpleasant to his senses and he was nauseated by it but he pressed forward. It was a daunting sight and an even more impossible task - he was effectively told that he could help by climbing into the mouth of an ancient sea beast and removing one of its teeth. He’d read books, listened to fairy tales, this was a bad idea waiting to happen, a burning building he knew someone was inside of.

‘Parker, I understand the way you are. Which is why these moments of grace are so important to me.’

It wasn’t the screaming of alarms in his body telling him to run that he listened to. It was the gentle call of his mother, the siren in her own right who possessed the incredible ability to be both beautiful and deadly. She could hunt fae with the best of them, once having a higher kill count than his father even. And then, her blood-soaked hands could cup Parker’s face in them immediately after to soothe him, tell him that he was going to be okay when she found him with tears on his face for no reason he could comprehend. It was the gentle call of his mother and her elegance that pushed Parker to lift himself into the gaping, toothy opening of the leviathan, pushing through the nausea and overwhelming fear and futility in trying to figure out how the hell he was supposed to remove a tooth from a giant. He had tools, but was he willing to risk using them if one wrong move, one cut with his blade against a nerve could mean a quick and painful death? He wondered how loose the thing was; he wondered how deep the root ran. “I have sedatives.” He said aloud once he was in the mouth, treading slowly and carefully across the giant, sand-covered tongue. “Do you think those would help?” He asked, very much doubting that they’d be of any use at all; they were powerful but the serpent was decidedly hundreds of times bigger than anything else he’d used them on before.

—

They could… possibly numb. They both knew that nothing the human had would come close to putting it to sleep, but there was a small chance that whatever sedatives he carried might double as a local anesthetic. Or maybe not, but it wasn’t like it would hurt to try. Use them. We will see.

It paused in its breathing, allowing the man a moment of quiet as he walked carefully across its tongue. … I will not eat you, it added, knowing that its word probably meant very little to someone in such a compromised position. I just want the ache to cease.

Truly, it was bizarre that the man hadn’t run for his life like those that had seen Leviathan swimming here had. That probably earned some curiosity.

… why do you help?

—

Inside the mouth, presumably in a place where the gargantuan entity couldn’t see him (unless it either had omniscience or eyes on the inside), Parker wordlessly nodded in affirmation. He wasn’t sure why, but he somehow trusted the rumbling voices in his head. He reached the tooth carefully, the seal-like tongue strange under his steel-toed boots, his hand clenching with a reflexive desire not to get the texture of the inky black blood on his palm; on a good day, on a normal day, it was something to be disregarded, closed down after the briefest of spikes of irrational anger on his skin. Today, Parker took an unintentionally shaky breath and he placed the same hand that had clenched moments before on the surface of the tooth, rubbing his fingers against the surface and wiping away the pitch blood to get a feel for the texture of the bone beneath. Surprisingly to him, the tooth seemed to move fractionally; that was good, that meant it might be easier for him to pull. Quickly coming to the realization that his entire outfit was going to be effectively destroyed because of the thick black liquid that oozed from the gums of the leviathan, his clean hand reached for the needle-like daggers that were looped on his belt. He pulled all four of them out and bundled them up together. “I don’t know.” Parker replied bluntly at first and that was his honest answer; the reason behind his spontaneous, uncharacteristic act of kindness wasn’t immediately evident to the Warden. “...I’m emotionally unstable.” He admitted afterwards, opting out of any veiled comments or insinuations. Turning the cluster of daggers over briefly, he glanced up at the gum of the tooth, which was above his head but swollen enough that he would be able to get all of the daggers in. “I’m going to attempt the sedatives.” He announced then, without waiting for further thought to interrupt it, he reached up and plunged the four daggers into the inflamed flesh at the base of the tooth.

—

Emotionally unstable? Leviathan would have laughed, if not for the everything of this situation. What had spurred the upset, the ache in its jaw, the anger it felt over having to leave when it didn’t want to—these things did not lend themselves to a good sense of humor. Still, it appreciated the candid response.

I see. There was a pause and the sail on its back twitched at the feeling of the tooth being jostled, but the jaws did not move. I suppose I am feeling similarly. The human announced his intent to administer the sedatives, and Leviathan braced itself… but the blades were too small to really be felt. It was more like a pinch than anything.

Settling in, the demon wished it had found a boulder to set between its teeth so it did not have to hold its mouth open for so long.

Oh. If you require light… Spots along the roof of its mouth and down its throat suddenly illuminated on command, casting a blueish green glow that mirrored the color of its eyes. There was more on its outside that glowed as well, but that mattered not for the task at hand. If you have sedatives… do you have other tools on hand that will assist in the extraction? And for what purpose, it wondered, though it figured that question could come after the human was no longer standing upon its tongue.

—

It was easy for the mind to fill in the spaces where there was nothing for means of processing information. Likewise, Parker supposed the mind also did that when it came to relativity; he was anticipating a much larger reaction to four needles in the beast’s heated flesh but then again, his daggers were small even by “dagger” standards, not to mention he was literally standing in the mouth of Jormungandr. Standing. As a man over six feet tall. When the beast agreed, in a sense, Parker felt himself wondering what arcane horrors could serve as a rough equivalent to drive an ancient sea beast into emotional instability. …Of course, this was assuming that it was something that could even be comprehended by him. He realized how stupid he must’ve sounded and he had to pause in his observation for several moments that seemed impossibly long, breathing heavily through his mouth and squeezing his eyes shut to push the embarrassment out of his mind. “Seems like we’re both having bad days.” He said, knowing full well that their situations could hardly be compared but as he was between the jaws of a great serpent, feeling very human even with his emotions swinging out of control, he attempted to form some semblance of a connection. It was unusual for him. And he wasn’t good at it. But he could hear his mother’s gentle coaxing in his mind all the same and that seemed to push him more towards trying to help, get through the day ideally in one piece. The leviathan mentioned lights and no sooner had it than the cavern that served as its mouth was illuminated in a seafoam glow. Parker’s pupils shrunk to black pinpricks in the icy blue as he grimaced slightly from the change in brightness but he recovered quickly enough, giving himself just a moment to glance around at where he was standing - the rows of jagged teeth, the blood that oozed from the root, the massive, seal-like tongue that Parker lightly tread upon, and further in he could see an alien esophagus. ‘Do you have other tools that will assist in extraction?’ The serpent’s voice rumbled in Parker’s head as the latter got a better look at the cracked bone; it was loose and not entirely wedged up in the gum but still, he wasn’t sure if the demon’s physiology was closer to a gator’s or a human. How far up was the root? He sighed quietly, his shoulders visibly slumping. “I have a knife.” He replied. “I don’t think it’s going to help, though. I’m just going to pull.” As he spoke, the fear that lined his voice was still there but it took a back seat to conviction. If he was going to die in the mouth of the sea monster, at least he was going to die trying to make something less miserable, for whatever good that did him. And that was unusual coming from him. “Let me know when you’re ready.” He said as his eyes danced over the tooth, seeing where he could wedge his hands to get some leverage.

—

Bad week. Bad month? It’s a blur. Its tone had shifted somewhat, taking on the silhouette of something more conversational and less direct and demanding, but that shadow still very much belonged to a creature of unfathomable age, experience, and cruelty.

And in spite of this, it lay docile on the beach. In spite of this, it dug those flippers deeper into the sand, many eyes rolling up to look at the sky overhead as the man in its mouth informed it that he was going to pull until it came loose. Fantastic.

Ready. As it would ever be, it supposed. It could feel small nudges here and there, points of mild pressure as fingers pressed against gums, searching for a spot to grip. They found it near the back of the tooth, where it had been pushed out of alignment and popped slightly free of its home—painful as anything. The sedatives had helped a bit, but there was still a sharp stab of pain as the man found purchase and tugged as hard as he could. Leviathan growled, deep and instinctual and ferocious, but its jaws remained open and it let Parker continue with his work, eyes squinting shut again.

Blood seeped from the wound and the blackened tongue beneath Parker’s feet flexed in pain with each wretched tug. It was being vocal, that much was certain, but it was determined not to bite down, no matter how badly it wished to.

Parker pulled, Leviathan bellowed, and finally, finally the damn thing ripped free. The beast lifted its head and angled its dragon-like snout down toward the sand, depositing Parker and the broken tooth on the beach before it closed those jaws again, hissing out a long breath that sent blood splattering in every direction. It shook its head like a dog trying to rid itself of a bee sting, shifting its weight in the sand before craning that long neck around to splash its head down into the shallow water. This seemed to soothe it, and the beast stilled save for the heaving of its massive chest. The bioluminescent parts of it seemed to dim and brighten in tune with its breathing, mouth opening again to let the seawater in to rinse away the mess.

Thank you. It heaved a weary, trembling sigh, tail whipping through the air before splashing back in deeper water. Whoever you are.

—

It said it was ready and Parker didn’t hold himself back as his hands found as good of a grip as they were going to get given the circumstances, which he wasn’t sure he was either able or willing to explain to anyone; how would he? With them in position, he gulped starting pulling with every fiber of his being. Immediately, he felt it shift though it was obviously deep enough that it wasn’t going to be deterred in one fell motion. The serpent rumbled in a guttural growl that sent involuntary shivers through the Warden but he used that to his advantage; fear was a motivator and he told himself that if he stopped for any reason, he was going to die. So he coiled himself up and pulled again, virtually throwing himself down so intensely that he thought he was going to dislocate one or both of his arms. The growling turned into roaring, the sound pulsing and pounding in Parker’s deficient head and he felt a swirl of emotions that somehow, he managed to stave off. The ‘ground’ beneath him grew unsteady, his arms were becoming coated and slicked with thick black blood. The beast’s deep-throated bellows rang and the culmination of everything threatened to send the man into a shutdown but he didn’t. He couldn’t. ‘Just pull, boy. Wrights don’t freeze up.’

By the end of it, Parker had almost gotten into the position of someone doing pull-ups, using his weight, dangling from the tooth as the dragon’s tongue was moving too much under him for him to feel as though he were able to use an anchor. With a final heave, feeling the muscles rippling beneath his blood-smeared arms, the tooth was wrenched free with a root-snapping ‘clchk’ and he landed roughly on his back in the wet mouth of the demon, holding a cracked, bloodied tooth that was roughly the size of his torso. It was all he could do to curl around it as immediately the serpent moved with him in it and it dumped him onto the sand. For a few agonizingly long moments, he lay there on the beach among the blood, saliva and sand that clung to every part of him, his blackened arms tightly wrapped around the fang (though he knew better) and gasping for air. The leviathan hissed and Parker felt himself being sprayed with yet more pitch, taking each unpleasant fleck as confirmation that he wasn’t actually dead. The deafening expulsions of air from a monster in pain were drowned out by the droning of the aftermath of an explosion that now buzzed in his head. The creature moved, he remained still and soon enough it settled, leaving the two of them quiet, save their respective breathing.

It took the great serpent speaking in his head again for Parker to be yanked out of whatever coping dissociation he’d unintentionally fallen into to avoid the overwhelming conflict of textures and sensations he was experiencing. His eyes opened as he was pulled back to the present and he felt tears trailing down his temples, mixing with the inky blood as they got into his messy brown hair. And only adding to his whirlwind of emotions, the pendulum swinging wildly was the ancient beast, the creature he knew wasn’t from a perceptible reality that he could remotely recognize, thanked him. His expression softened. He went from looking bewilderingly up at the bright blue sky as though it were twisting and shifting before his very eyes in an apocalyptic endeavor to accepting what it was. It was just the sky. It was just the sky and he was just Parker and the leviathan just thanked him out of some human obligation. And that was fine. The Warden didn’t like thank-yous but he was so– ‘Overstimulated. That’s what it’s called sometimes, bro. We’ve talked about this.’ Parker loathed such terminology, especially when applied to him but perhaps… it held some truth to it sometimes. He gulped and his mouth lolled open for a second or two. “...You’re welcome.” The sentence had so rarely been uttered that it came out as a cracked mutter, unpracticed and uncertain. His eyes fluttered closed, his breathing falling more under control; deeper, more even, actually giving him oxygen. He still held the tooth in a deathgrip - he’d have to be killed before he’d relinquish such a treasure, even if Parker didn’t know what it belonged to. The Warden wasn’t sure what was keeping him conscious, feeling a lull wanting to pull him in a false sense of security, the safety of falling asleep after so many nights of not being granted such a luxury. Would he dream, at long last? Would he recognize the nightmare as the world-spanning serpent? He couldn’t know. “Whoever you are.”

—

It watched the man for a moment before sliding itself backward into deeper and deeper water, head held flush with the waves, mouth still agape to allow the rinsing to continue. The sail on its back rose high into the air as it flexed to its full height, shivering in the strong winds that gusted over the ocean water. It saw the way he clung to the tooth, and chuffed to itself. Enjoy your prize, Leviathan pressed into his mind, sinking itself beneath the water. And pray we do not meet again. And with that, it was gone. Off like a shot to its private little island to lurk in the cover of fog until it felt ready to come ashore once more.

#wickedswriting #writing // Aesop's Fables #writing with // Leviathan #teeth trauma tw

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cryptid-killjoy · 3 months

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Valentine's Day was always such a big deal day for Flotsam. It turned into the cliche of all supermarket cliches at one point. He hated that inside more than anything at one point in his life. His late wife was a sucker for all the cutesy stuff, so everything in Flotsam's heart tried to make everything bigger and grander for her, and as absolutely as sentimental and meaningful as his heart could possibly articulate with symbolism. He had to put it all out there in hopes something inside it all would sink in her dense head and actually get her to hang onto it. Get him. Understand something about how his heart beat, his love language as people say. If he could just get her to understand something she'd stop.... just...just stop... and stay home, enjoy him and their family.

It didn't work out and he went on hating the very idea of Valentine's Day after he'd destroyed it with memories of putting his heart into such events like elaborate proposals of marriage, even getting Jetsam involved, filling the entire swamp with pink and blue flowers, PINK yes PINK. Pushing pink on Valerie/Flotsam when the man went through all that was like mental torture for a long time because of this very day. It sure as fuck didn't really have to do with Barbie. It was because of where his broken heart came from.

But that was the key now wasn't it? It was long healed over and he hadn't even noticed. It was a strange year for Flotsam because when he realized Valentine's Day was coming he started planning for it for an entire week before he realized that was his ex-old-anniversary. He was too busy planning for Thomas. Cinderella wasn't even a blip for a whole WEEK. A whole WEEK. It was as he was getting all the final details of Valerie's outfit together a small memory flashed as memories do. They didn't linger there on it. They were far too shocked with themselves in the actualization of it. Valentine's Day hadn't tripped them up. The memory of the jar of reasons didn't piss him off this time. It only looked like an image. Like Oh, there's that memory and then poof, it was gone. It used to make them so angry that a person could seem so real and sincere and put that much effort into something and then be so cruel as to walk away and just leave their kids with not but a damn bag. But, this time he felt absolutely... nothing. It just felt empty to think about it. Just nothing. They weren't walking around all moody broody. They weren't stressing it with a smile-mask on pretending they were fine like they used to. They had actually been... fine for real.

Woah. Fuck. He whispered to himself, "He fixed that." Thomas would forever be the onion picker, his fix it man. Thomas stayed home. Flo wasn't a moron. He wasn't some patriarcal wives should stay at home person. Someone had to figure out how to get money to live. They had it. Cinderella left anyway with other aspirations. They had it and Thomas used that money as a reason to stay home and spend time. That was the miracle difference in mindset. Do fun shit together with the time they've got here. Share aspirations together not save the world. You save the world by saving each other. It was such a simple concept to live by. It made him giggle soft to himself as he ran his hand over the outfit as the memory of Thomas's Valentine's Day went through his head. It was a trail of roses through Lothorien out to the forest, Tree, and a little camp, and a very naked Thomas covered in dark rose petals. Oh, Savvy-on-a-Cracker. That image was blazed into his head in way that was never going away. Thank goodness. If anyone was looking from the outside Flotsam would be turning a red flush just in recollection of that man being that ballsy. He laughed a little more. He couldn't stop grinning.

Flotsam was pretty darn sure by next Valentine's Day he wasn't even going to be remembering to be shocked at himself anymore. Evolution was great. Growing felt good. Maybe there was a small phase right here where he needed to be proud of himself for the realization for a moment or two as it passed by. Maybe it wouldn't even be mentioned come V-Day next in his mind, not but a smile, too busy with the fun to slow down and notice. Right now he didn't mind the memory blast to feel the adrenaline to give the credit he wanted to Thomas for being the best fix it guy in the damn universe for taking a heart as broken as his and making it feel this good on a day like this. He felt like a new man. Fuck, new woman too for that matter.

Boom. A natural woman. Aretha was in Flo's head the rest of the time they were getting ready. She decided to fuck all those store bought Valentine colors, red or pink. She didn't even buy flowers. Her sweet tooth didn't allow her to not buy a little candy, that was Val and her twin spirit now, but she decided to take the reigns this year. If Thomas had his own thing planned, that was okay. They could combine them, but when she saw this fuzzy coat she needed it on her skin. The satin inner lining was to die for against her ribs. A little part of her was starting to get wolf minded. It might not have been wolf fur, but she was gearing up for time. She wasn't quite ready, but she was getting there.

She rode the coat tails of Thomas's past date and instead of putting out rose petals she put out tiny mirror pieces, the kind that would be stuck to a outside of a disco ball, little sticker slivers, not broken pieces. It was the kind of mirror pieces created for making arts and crafts. She littered them through the house to make her trail instead of outside since it wasn't so great for the environment otherwise. Yes, she'd gotten Scout and Dale to babysit for a few hours so they could have some time to themselves.

The trail would start with a text image of her. "What do you think of my new single's cover? Do you think it has a good feel? Should I use a different one?" The song Natural Woman would be playing in the background, but it wouldn't be Aretha's voice. It'd be Valerie's voice. Another text would come in as he was walking. "Do you like this one better?" It'd be a picture of her with a full disco ball like all the little squares he was following through the house.

When he'd arrive to the area she'd had set of where she'd done the shoot. She wouldn't have been nake like him. She chose to go another route, but she'd be sitting there at the end of her trail of disco ball mirrors. It sat in the background somewhere while she sat there in her wolfy fur old vibey look waiting for him, her voice in the air.

"Happy Valentine's Day, My Love. You inspired me to do an old cover. You gave me some kind of feeling." Then she popped a rich chocolate from a box in her mouth. "Want one?"

#valeriexthomas

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firespirited · 9 months

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10 hours of sleep undid whatever was scrambling my brain. What a relief. Slow day, still had pain but the difference when you aren't being swamped by the various thoughts and signals to it being separate tabs/windows so to speak is night and day.

It took me a full hour to get past the first five minutes of Malpertuis 1971. Kept getting distracted or forgetting. It was odd, atmospheric and, eh, not really for me. It started going somewhere with the American Gods style concept that gods fade without belief and then threw plot threads at the wall and left it all unfinished.

I often find myself enjoying films labelled boring if there's a lot of meaningful dialogue and emotion (In the mood for love, Dinner with André) but little action or if the slow moments are deliberate to allow you to mull over a concept (Solaryis) but films that are labelled boring because it's mostly about aesthetics or moodiness aren't my jam, I could see how that would be appealing, I just haven't found many yet that tap into mine, probably a woman or ND guy directing, gothic mundane (as opposed to rich people gothic) or being very aware of nature like the end of Black Rainbow or the start of Stoker.

For now I'm happy to keep watching cult films marked 'boring' and gamble on the chance of meeting a good one, though might switch off ones like this that tell you the male gaze is going to be a big deal. In this one it was 6 minutes in with the bar brothel scene - topless ladies and statues with light up nipples is kind of a giant red flag LOL. Don't let the protag's pretty androgyny fool you into thinking this might have gay sensibilities. There's a woman character with hypersexual compulsions. 3 sex scenes that come across as way over acted. Lots of murder victims found looking gruesome. Then they used the entire prop budget on the house so the smaller props look hilariously bad.

—---------------------

I managed to sort the fabric drawer and set up a few items to sew (30 minutes at a time no more). Maybe this injury is the ideal time to try the sewing machine. I've collected quite a bit of clothes hanging ribbons that would make closures without having to hand sew buttons or snaps. Something to consider in the weeks to come.

----------------

I'd really like to schedule a final cif wash for all the glue treated monsters and just list dolls that are ready and have been for almost a year but not listed for silly reasons like Moana doesn't have clothes or what if people would prefer i remove overpainting from vintage Skipper reroots or Purrsephones nose paint is damaged. Those little things that somehow mean unfinished and thus unlistable (???)

Don't want to get to ambitious and then regret not magically having energy but I do want to write these things down so they do eventually get done. For example BMR Pazette is taking many small sessions but she's finally coming together because of lists and keeping her visible. There's a cute yellow top planned for her.

—--------------

Thx to @dollsahoy, I passed on info about the meteor shower to the family and sis went out to watch for half hour and managed to see 14 shooting stars. She's delighted.

#dolls #saf #barbie #ooak #Movie reviews #Ramblings

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hazely-sims · 10 months

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📨 Random simblr question (for the ts3 simmers) of the day: What’s your favorite premade world?

Ooh, what a fun question! I actually really like all of them, but I think I would have to choose Twinbrook because I adore the moody, foggy swamp area. Thanks for asking!

#also I have actually never played Appaloosa Plains #is that embarrassing to admit? haha #I love fall vibes so I think I am really going to like it when I eventually get there #there are so many worlds I haven't properly played in. Which is why I'm doing a lepacy lol

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sevicia · 2 years

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tell us about ur ocs then

OK BUT YOU ASKED FOR THIS

((After i finished writing this i realized how long it is IM SO SORRY if anyone actually reads this i am kissing you so so very tenderly))

OK this is daría she is a swamp witch. She is veeery moody and has a dont care didnt ask type of attitude. She loves creachers and is able to talk to them, she also has vast knowledge of plants and natural remedies. She loves reading, and Aurora (her gf)! She's friends with Sammy (her cousin) and frenemies with Angel (she finds her annoying even though theyre very similar) <3 Also shes an nb lesbian, the shortest of the group and she's 16-17 I faghor to mention that

^ angel (left) and sammy (right)!!

Angel is a very orderly, serious girl, as well as as a nocturnal witch! She's able to see ghosts and talk to them (AKA order them around to do her chores LOL), and can see almost perfectly at nighttime. She has a tiny (huge) crush on Sammy, her only friend due to Angel's "rude" nature (in reality she is just blunt). She also loves to accesorize, and her favorite color is blue! She's pretty tall and lanky, and is #trans and a lesbian. Also, she finds Aurora annoying. She's 17-18!

Sammy is a caring, kind girl who is also a day witch! She has the ability to soothe and heal all lifeforms. She is also a great singer, having a deep love for music since childhood. She's very affectionate, esp. with Angel, and although she reciprocates her feelings she is too shy to ACTUALLY act on them. This infuriates Daria who just wants the two to quit pining and just kiss already. She likes summer the most, and has a good relationship with her and Darias grandma, who is the legal caretaker for them both. Sammy was adopted by Daría's uncles, who both passed away for Mysterious Reasons. Her relationship with Aurora is a good one, finding her cute and funny. She's tall, a little shorter than Angel, and is a cis lesbian. She's 17-18!

(I wanna redesign her but i still havent gotten around 2 it help)

This ^ is Aurora! She's not always in a swimsuit LOL this is just the only decent drawing of her i could find. She usually wears a school uniform with pink accents. She's bubbly, kind and puppy-like, getting excited REALLY easily. She loves fashion, sweets, animals, Daria and the color pink! She is not a witch in any capacity, but she still studies witchcraft in an attempt to become an artificial witch. She likes chasing Angel around and tries to actively become her friend! She's the second shortest of the group, and is a cis bisexual girl! Her age is 15-16; she's a year younger than Daria!

OK those are the witchy ocs now for the fruit ones 😏

(a note: The children in the fruitverse are born (hatched?) from flowers, which people who are looking for children go to in order to adopt. However, sometimes there's children that no one adopts, and they, along with children that got bad adopted by bad parents, get sent to the Fruit Basket, which is essentially an orphanage. Generally, people looking to adopt seek out the more mild-mannered fruit children, meaning they look for the sweetest fruits (AKA strawberries, bananas, apples, etc.) and other, more acidic fruits have a lower adoption rate due to them being known to be a bit more difficult to raise.)

This girl^ is Berry! I am the best at names I know. She's quiet and calm, and enjoys reading dates with her bff Nana. She lives with just her mom, Ms. Raspberry, and has a pet dog named Pinkie. She is often distressed because she gets roped into wild situations (mostly nana's fault TBH) when she would rather just chill all the time. Still, she's earnest and responsible. She's 13 years old!

This is Nana the man the myth the legend. As you can see, he is a banana. He's mischievious or however you spell that, and enjoys Berry's company mainly because she's 90% of his impulse control. He lives with his parents (Mr. and Ms. Blueberry), and his two siblings: Benjie (oldest) and Nadia (youngest). He loves them to death, and often teams up with Nadia (who is like 10) to stress out Benjie (who is 23). He is tall, and 14, a year older than Berry.

this is Ran! her ref sheet says pretty much everything, but ill talk abt her anyways cause i love her <3

Ran is an orange! She's a quick-tempered girl, but really sweet on the inside. She has trouble opening up to others due to her original parents neglecting her emotional needs while she grew up. When she was 6, her teacher caught onto the fact that her parents treated her badly, and she was sent to the Fruit Basket. At age 9, Lia (a lemon woman) adopted her from there. Ran feels as if she is indebted to Lia and needs to 'earn' her love by being as perfect as possible, so she puts a lot of pressure on herself. Meanhwile, Lia loves her unconditionally and is doing her best to make sure Ran knows that. Ran eventually becomes friends with Nana and Berry, and she is 15 years old.

These two right here are the Cherry sisters!

Mia (left) is the oldest at 22 years old, and she has a playful, happy personality. She likes fashion, and her main love language is signs of affection! She often tries to let her little sister Cher know she loves her, but she can get a bit TOO attentive to the point of overprotection. She is very popular with just about everyone due to her cheery personality and the fact that she's pretty (LOL), making Cher jealous. She is Benjie's girlfriend and loves him to death. Her main hobby is making him flustered!

Cher (right) is the youngest at 16 years old. Her personality is a bit more sour than Mia's, due to her feeling as if she's the shadow of her sister. She has a bit of an inferiority complex, and is often torn between wanting to be Exactly like her sister, or being her own person and being 'worse' than her sister her whole life. She is reclusive, easily annoyed and a bit bitter. She feels as if she is inferior to Mia due to not getting as much attention as her. Still, she likes fashion and is a horror movie fan. She eventually befriends Ran (and 'those two weird kids', by proxy).

OK now for the fruit ones that dont have drawings (yet)!:

Benjie: He's a tall, strong #transhet man, 23 years old, and he's a banana! He has a worrisome and anxious personality that he tries to hide by 'acting cool' (he just puts on sunglasses and hopes for the best). He is very kind, working at a dog shelter and always trying to pull his little siblings out of trouble. He has a soft spot for Berry due to her being a friend and a source of relaxation for Nana.

Monserrat: She is a lemon girl who has been in the Fruit Basket ever since she was born, and has a rivalry with Ran that stems for Lia adopting Ran instead of her. The rivalry consists of Monse being mean to Ran and Ran not letting herself be trampled over. She feels as if she deserves to be Lia's daughter more than Ran due to the fact that both her and Lia are lemons. In reality, she is just bitter about having never been adopted at the age of 15, and channels that bitterness towards other people. She likes romance novels and books, and eventually finds a friend in Cher after having a redemption arc in which she apologizes to Ran (and to Nana, Berry and Charlie, who she also enjoyed antagonizing).

Charlie: They are an apple kid who got pulled out of an abusive home, into the Fruit Basket, where they get ostracized and picked on by the other fruit children due to them being 'weird' (AKA not being able to communicate like everyone else; stuttering) and 'dumb' (AKA them struggling at school). Their peers at the Fruit Basket called them 'Rotten Apple'. This has made them defensive and reclusive, which just makes them get excluded even more. Their only friend at the beginning is their pet worm Alice, though later on they befriend Nana and Berry. They get along well with Ran, too, since they have a kind personality under those layers of defensiveness and aggression.

Agatha: Not a fruit, but a human! This girl is a 'mad scientist' type of character. She's a genius and enjoys programming, hence her creating the Fruitverse, an 'ecosystem' contained in a computer program that got out of hand; it was meant to be a simple game, but she kept adding and adding elements and details in her excitement until the 'characters' became able to think for themselves and altered her computer in the process, becoming a sort of virus for her. She comunicates with the 'characters' through a microphone that resounds in the town speakers, and while most of the adults are respectful and fearful of her, the children are... not, often taunting her and calling her 'stinky' and other names, which makes her basically ragequit and leave her computer (she leaves it running all the time. No matter what, she couldn't bear to know she'd be ending the fruit people's lives. She gets attached easily.)

OK NOW THE ROBOT STORY DW IT ONLY HAS A FEW CHARSCTERS SO FAR THIS IS ALMOST OVER I PROMMY!!

Alice: A 17 year old trans girl with a masculine voice that doesn't match her appearance living in a futuristic city where robots have become a commodity, and people who keep the robots running (AKA essential workers) are treated very, very badly. She lives in the poorer side of town with her parents, who are both maintainance workers, and her sister, a wannabe influencer. As the daughter of maintainance workers, she is bullied in school. One day, she isn't able to stand it any longer, so she skips school and wanders around town, eventually finding a hidden tunnel that leads to an underground system, where discontinued or 'faulty' robots are left until 'recollection' (AKA getting crushed and burned in a facility). Seeing this, she sets out to help the robots, feeling a connection to them. Her adventure leads her to the rotten core of the city.

Annie (short for Anastasia): She is a 20 year old girl, Alice's sister and a wannabe influencer. She worries very much about her little sister, trying to look out for her whenever possible. She is easily annoyed and follows trends as best as she can with her limited options. She has plenty of friends, though most of them talk about her behind her back. She knows this, but she's terrified of not being popular, so she sticks with them. Deep inside, she is a kind, caring girl who is scared of not being liked. Initially, she is against Alice going into her crusade alone, but warms up to the idea eventually, choosing to trust her and looking out for her in a more indirect way.

The Mother: This entity is the AI that rules the city. It doesn't take a single form, being able to choose its vessel from custom-made robot-suits. It is responsible for the unequality of the city, encouraging it as it allows it to keep itself on the top of the metal chain. Eventually, when Alice manages to find it with the help of her sister and robot friends, it tries bargaining for its existence by telling Alice it can give her the life she's always wanted. It promises Alice a future of being adored, of being accepted by her peers. Or something. Haven't decided on that yet!

OK THATS IT IM SO SORRY I GOT EXCITED.

#oc talk #long post #HELP ME JESUS I GOT CARRIED AWAY. IM SORRY #btw i imagien the first two as comics / shows and the third as a game #and i still have to make some other characters for all of these hehehehe #child abuse m #child neglect m

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