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science-lings · 2 years

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Fun Design Details and Random Facts about My Links

Sage (BotW): Conceptually post-botw2 so they have longer hair with a more gingery tinge and they may or may not have a prosthetic/ magic limb, when we get more info about botw2 I’ll probably figure it out lmao. Anyway they’re the magical guy bc they keep the Champions powers and was affected by dying so they can talk to ghosts and do other minor necromancy, also they’re a skilled elixir maker and food enchanter and general little witch guy. Color scheme is generally blues and teals and greens but they also wear a lot of pink and red bc in game they look pretty good in it. Has a big pretty green cloak that's heavily embroidered bc they seem like the type. What is a big cloak but a cool fantasy comfort hoodie.

Guardian (AoC): A major part of his design and backstory is that he’s half sheikah. He has patches of white hair and a section of red in one of his eyes. He generally wears the normal sheikah stealth armor or the sleeveless turtleneck body suit bc he likes to be flexible. He has a dark teal/ blue sheikah forehead tattoo, but in his original design I had the idea of putting the tattoo on his mouth. so that when he opened it the eye would open but it was too complicated so I decided against it. His color scheme is blues and purples and grays and that muted bronze of sheikah armor. This version of the champions garb is a scarf-cape ie LU Warriors. Doesn’t always wear it as it gets in the way an is kind of impractical. It looks pretty cool though.

Captain (WW): A big part of his design change is that I wanted to give him darker skin but keep his sun bleached blonde hair, as I feel like more people of the great sea should be less white. He spends so much time in the sun that it’s a mystery how he was supposed to be so pale. He also has a lot of freckles and subtle scars. He wears some of Tetra’s princess Zelda jewelry, like the little ear wings and anything else pretty. He turned his old green cap into a little scarf/ bandana because there’s no way he would fit in the outfit now. This guy is kinda tall, at least for a Link. I liked his little swirly belt buckle so I kept that and gave him Linebeck’s coat to add to the pirate aesthetic. His color scheme is greens and blues and golds and accents in jewel tones since he wears a lot of jewels. He also wears smudgy eyeliner and dark eyeshadow.

King (SkSw): You know that cool iridescent metal that SkSw Zelda has as the main material for her jewelry? Well King is absolutely decked in it. It’s what his loftwing shaped crown is made out of and he has jeweled rings and a necklace all made out of the stuff. He has a serious wing motif, there are wings on his clothes and new sword and that’s not to mention the crown. Hylia always had a bird thing going on so King is really playing into that. He has his loftwings feathers as a shoulder piece and his sailcloth was turned into more of a sash-cape. Looks very roman. Color scheme is reds and purples and humble warm browns. He doesn’t like looking too fancy all the time but he definitely dresses a little more extravagantly than the average Hylian.

Hunter (TP): He’s the type to wear a lot of leather armor, a good balance of protection and flexibility, as his job is literally monster hunting he decided to invest in something like that. Has a full wolf pelt tied around his waist and I kinda want to give him a skirt like that one concept art. Maybe that’s just what he wears whenever he isn’t in full armor lmao. His hair is gradually turning black due to the prolonged use of twili magic. He has the markings on his face and thighs that mirror his wolf form but they only show up at night and they glow because i think that would be cool. He has a kind of shaggy mullet and a grumpy vibe but has a surprisingly dadly quality about him. His color scheme is mostly neutral with blacks and browns and greys but with a bit of the classic forest green and bronze chainmail. Yes he has fangs, are you surprised?

Hero (OoT): Wow this guy almost looks normal, sure he wears a little more green than the average person and tends to wear tights while on horseback, but he’s not one for armor or anything too crazy. Okay, he wears his golden gauntlets when it’s convenient but is generally not too crazy with his design. His hair is long enough to be in a low ponytail and is nice and normal. I might add some white hair despite him being in his early twenties. That all changes when he puts on the FD mask though. I’m planning on making the markings that come from that be more complex than just thick lines and making them glow bc it should be unambiguous how powerful this guy is. I mean, it’s still the same guy, he just kicks more ass. It lowers his voice and makes him astronomically strong. It’s really hard to actually hurt him and he’s taller and generally pretty terrifying.

General (HW): I’m gonna be honest, his design is really giving me some trouble. I’m not sure exactly how to make him interesting while still staying true to the character. I could go full Camelot type medieval knight but I’m not sure that feels quite right. I could make his era more based around Elizabethan England, so I can give him funny hair and give the royal court some tutor type drama but I’m not quite sure. In any case, his life is full of hiding in the castle whenever he’s able to, to avoid stalkers, and doing his best to combat manipulative royal courtiers that he doesn’t tell the Queen about because he doesn’t want to become a problem. His color scheme is vibrant royal blues with orange accents. Bright colors are only for the fancy people and the General is nothing if not fancy.

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waywardfangirl · 3 years

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For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

#snowbaz fic #Purr-fect Strangers #a gift for a friend!#fuff #my fic

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powerful-niya · 3 years

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So I've been doing a lot of editing on my Naruhina stories, mainly on my Naruhina fanfic 'Enemies Or Lovers.' And so far, I truly like the result. It's wonderful!

Warning: Violence-Dark Themes. Supernatural/Vampires.

Before:

Hinata's P.O.V

"Mmm." I moaned out as I drunk from a young girl's neck, far into the woods, late at night.

I suck vigorously, my hunger getting the best of me.

My eyes closed tightly as my best friend stood beside me, monitoring me and watching out for werewolves..

Our arch enemy...

Vampires.. Arch enemy..

Her blood tasted so good, I just couldn't stop.. I knew I should but...

"Um Princess, I think that's enough." My best friend, Sakura warned me.

I didn't stop though, I couldn't stop.

Her screams were drowned out by me.. All I focused on was erasing my intense hunger for...

Blood.

My eyes shined a dark purple which was very different from my normal lavender.

I held the girls head tightly as my razor sharp fangs sunk into her neck, drinking up all of her blood, making her fall limp.

I finally removed myself from her neck, my teeth shrinking back to normal.

I breathed heavily and then backed away, my eyes now catching a glimpse of the now dead, innocent girl below me.

My eyes widen as I stared at the wide-eyed black haired girl that laid dead on the grass below.

Her neck bloody and completely torn out..

I, did that.

Oh no..

"O-Oh my goodness. I killed her. I killed her." I screamed and wiped my mouth that was covered with her blood.

Sakura sighed and shook her head "Damn. I knew I should've never brought you out here. You was just hungry Hinata. It's normal for us vampires." She informed and bend down and helped me up, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

I stumbled onto my feet, my red and black long dress following my movement.

I sighed sadly, the cool, night air blowing through my long midnight blue hair.

I looked down at my feet, feeling tears prick my eyelids "I'm so bad at being a Vampire, Sakura. My bloodlust just gets the best of me.. And I can't help it.." I admitted to her and then looked up at her concern expression "I'm so weak." I continued but she waved her hand at me, reassuring me.

Her pink, short hair swaying in the night wind also as her emerald eyes stared at me intently.

She shook her head at me, a smile etching her lips despite my terrible behavior "It's okay, Hinata. That's why I'm here to help you. It's just you're so innocent, My Princess, it just can't be helped." She said and guided me back to my Mother's palace.

I nodded slowly to her claim "Yeah, I guess. It's just, I'm still, so hungry." I said yearningly, my eyes turning back to a dark purple again, just thinking about getting my hands on some more blood.

Sakura frowned and rubbed my back, calming me back down.

I gasped quietly, my eyes turning back to my normal lavender.

I laughed nervously when Sakura shook her head at my behavior "Let's hurry, inside." She quickly instructed and nodded at the vampire guards who were standing watch.

They nodded back and opened the gates to the vampire palace.

I smiled and walked into the palace with Sakura by my side.

I sighed exaggeratedly and looked up at the same, old boring chandeliers and paintings that's been here ever since I was born..

I groaned and parted away from Sakura to go to my room, which was located, up a flight of stairs.

She waved at me and made her way to hers.

I sighed sadly and entered into the same room I've been seeing over the past 100 years.

I blinked wildly at the darkness and cut the light on, but dimmed it.

I sighed and decided to lay on my bed for now away from the drama that goes on outside.

I laid down gently on my freshly made bed and just stared up at the ceiling with sadness.

As I carry on through life.. I feel like, there's something.. missing.

Because I'm a little older now.. I just think the empty feeling in my heart is thirsty for someone to care for, to love.

It's more of a longing feeling and I've noticed it gets stronger and stronger by the days processes on...

After:

{Edited}

Hinata's P.O.V

"Mmm." I moaned out as I steadily drunk from a young girl's neck, far into the woods, late at night. I suck vigorously into the flesh of the human who had unfortunately wandered in the woods too far, entering the territory of the beasts; where we vampires lived.

With my razor-sharp teeth, I had torn two holes into the girl's neck, and from there, I drunk and drunk, drinking her blood in a daze. I didn't know what I was doing anymore, reality was not my own. All I wanted was to satisfy the aching hunger I felt. My eyes were shut off from the world, my arms wrapped tightly around the whimpering girl, my body huddling on the ground.

My best friend stood not too far from me, constantly monitoring me as well as watching out for werewolves. Our arch-enemy. Vampires, arch enemy.

I moaned once more, steadily taking more and more of the human girl's blood, unknowingly taking her life. The taste of her blood was divine on my tongue, to my taste buds, I just couldn't stop... The voice in my head continuously told me to but I chose to ignore it.

"Um Princess, I think that's enough." My best friend, Sakura warned me cautiously. But I didn't stop though, I couldn't stop.

The human girl's screams and desperate cries for help were drowned out by me. All I focused on was erasing my intense hunger for; Blood.

My usual innocent lavender eyes had now changed into a different color due to my body transforming because of the strong hunger I felt. Now in my feral state, my eyes were darkened, turning to a dimmed purple almost black color. Horrifying was the word to call me but at the moment, I didn't care about anything. Only when the girl fell limp in my arms did I come back to reality.

Finally regaining some sense of control, I removed my bloody canines from the black-haired girl's injured neck, my teeth shrinking back to their normal size which looked less frightening. I breathed heavily as I slowly came back down from my high, backing away but when I shifted in movement, my eyes, unfortunately, caught a glimpse of the now dead, innocent girl below me.

My eyes widened drastically, tears instantly forming in my eyes at the horrifying display before me. The young girl's neck was completely covered in blood, her eyes hooded and dull. Her frail body laid limply on the green grass. She was dead. Gone.

I, did that! It's all my fault! Oh no.

At that realization, I began to freak out, "O-Oh my goodness. I killed her! She's dead!" I screamed out into the cool night air, one of my pale hands moving up to wipe the blood from my mouth, cleaning it for my own sake.

Sakura sighed from where she stood, her light green eyes staring down at what I caused in regret. She shook her head, "Damn. I knew I should've never brought you out here. You were just hungry Hinata. This is normal for us vampires." She informed encouragingly, "You'll get the hang of it eventually." She added on, trying to cheer me up which slightly worked. But because I was quite selfless and innocent, I was still completely devastated by my actions. I couldn't believe it.

I whimpered shakily the entire time as Sakura worked to help me up, bending down to grab my hand. With it, she pulled it upward bringing my petite body to a stand. I stumbled on my feet, my wavy black dress following my unstable movement.

I sighed sadly, the cool, night air blowing through my long midnight blue hair rapidly.

I looked down at my feet, feeling tears prick my eyelids. The awful deed I had just committed kept running through my head like a broken record. A tear fell down my cheek, "Sakura, I-I don't know if I can do this. I'm so b-bad at being a vampire. I can't do anything right. I fail at everything and t-the bloodlust I feel is too much to handle. I-I... don't know if I can do this." I admitted to her, pouring my feelings out. They were words I always wished to say but never did. But now, I felt no reason to hold them back anymore. I had a right to feel this way. I am certainly a disappointment to the entire vampire species.

I looked up at the pink-haired vampire who had a very concerned expression on her pale face. I pouted, "I'm so weak." I continued dejectedly. But by my last self-loathing comment, she waved her hand at me, reassuring me. From where she stood, her short red dress flowed peacefully within the wind revealing her shiny pale legs. For her feet, she wore black flats, just like I did.

She gave her head a shake at me, a smile pulling at her pink lips despite my terrible behavior, "It's okay, Hinata. That's why I'm here to help you. It's just your nature is so innocent and virtuous, my princess. That's why it's so hard for you to grasp the techniques vampires have to commit. But, you're strong, you'll get through this." She said favorably, her hand diving around my neck to guide me forward, back to my Mother's kingdom.

I nodded slowly to her claim, a small smile slowly appearing on my slightly bloody face, "Y-Yeah. Maybe you're right. I need to have faith. B-But." I paused in my words, the lust for blood rushing back, calling for me. I growled underneath my breath, "I'm still, so hungry." I gritted out yearningly, my eyes turning right back to its purplish-blackish tinge again. Once again, I was losing the battle of control.

Sakura frowned upon that and began to rub the center of my back in circles to calm me down as we walked; which did the trick nicely. Her comforting action distracted me from the blood lust I felt. I gasped quietly, my eyes turning back to my normal lavender.

I laughed nervously when Sakura shook her head at my behavior, "Let's hurry and get you inside, girly." She said with uneasiness in her tone, our feet steady walking through green grass and tall trees. We didn't stop walking until we made it to a large but dark kingdom that stretched high into the sky, touching the clouds. The vampire kingdom could be seen from afar and we, walked straight towards the gates; the entrance of the grand kingdom, side by side.

Sakura nodded at the vampire guards who were standing watch in front of the colossal-sized double doors. They nodded back, receiving the memo from my friend, and with that, they opened the gates to the vampire palace for us. I smiled to see the doors of my home open up for me and with that, I walked into the palace with Sakura by my side.

As I entered, I couldn't help but groan. There was nothing but the same old, doddery furniture placed about, same dusty rooms, and the same boring chandeliers and paintings lying about which have been here ever since I was born. Actually, they've probably been here in the castle longer than that. Mother's taste was quite old-fashioned, after all.

I groaned but parted ways from Sakura, not before sending a quick wave in her direction.

"Bye Sakura! Thank you so much for the lesson!" I yelled out from afar which brought a joyous smile to her face. By revealing such gratitude it made my best friend feel very appreciated.

She waved back happily, walking to her own room which was located in a different part of the kingdom, "You're welcome, girly! We will definitely meet back up tomorrow night! Be ready!" She yelled back informing me that I had yet another lesson for tomorrow. I couldn't help but grimace but I gave her a nod, hiding the dread I felt.

"Okay!"

After I said my final goodbyes to my cherry bestie, I turned and went back on my journey to my room which was located up a flight of stairs. My smile instantly shifted into a frown upon arriving at the same room I've been seeing and lying in over 100 years. After seeing the same thing over and over again, you will surely get tired of it. That, is how I feel about everything.

I sighed sadly but approached my room in no time, turning left from the long flight of steps. One single black door greeted me, closed shut so none of the other vampires in the kingdom could lurk in. After all, we vampires live together and some do not believe in the word privacy or space.I rolled my eyes at such thoughts but moved to grab a hold of the handle of my door, throwing it open and instantly turning on the lights in my bedroom for it was mighty dark. But I made sure to dim it. See, the light switch in the castle works differently; it has three settings. You can turn the light switch to the right which will grant the room no light. Turn the light switch to the left, the room will light up brightly, and last but not least, if you leave the circular switch in the center, you will have a dimmed room. Because we vampires hate the light, hate the sun, we prefer our rooms dimmed.

That way it is not too light and it's not too dark. So that is the mode I set my room in. Dimmed.

Afterward, I closed my door and walked to my bed, deciding to lie down a bit to rest. Now, I was away from the drama; away from the chaos outside. I let out a delightful sigh once I plopped my small body down onto my large, plushy bed, my body cuddling involuntarily in its warmth. Silence took over my room as I just lied and allowed my brain to think. I had so much to think about anyhow.

I have to improve my skills as a vampire.

I have to make my Mother proud.

And I also, have to satisfy the void I feel within my heart.

As I carry on through my long, immortal life, I feel like, there's something, missing. Because I'm a little older now I just think the empty feeling in my heart is thirsty for someone to care for; To love. It's more of a longing, yearning feeling and I've noticed it gets stronger and stronger as the day's progress on.

I pouted to myself, my lavender eyes rooted on the ceiling above. I wonder.. What is this feeling? Why am I feeling it?

***

It's a big difference, isn't it? I like it so much! 💗

#Powerfulniya #Enemies Or Lovers #Naruhina #Chapter 1 #Edited #Writing #Vampire #dark themes #How'd I do?#You like?#Can you tell the difference?#Edited Version of the story is found on Fanfiction.net not Wattpad. Though the story is not completed.#Forbidden love #Mates #Darkwriter

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corishadowfang · 3 years

Text

ROYGBIV Tag Game

Tagged by @zmlorenz--thanks for the tag!

Rules: Find a section of your WIP that contains a mention of each color of the rainbow.

This tag game variation is very cool! As usual, doing this for On my Heart:

Red

James—the biggest of his classmates, a stocky boy with wild hair and wilder habits (known for breaking Familiars within a couple weeks of getting them, not that Aiden was paying attention)—gave him a critical side-eye, then turned pointedly towards the building. “So,” he said, “who’s going to go in?” The red of his Familiar swam underneath his skin; fire briefly ignited on his fingertips, and he played with it, eyeing the door.

Orange

The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange light across Turnstyle Park. A couple people ran along the trail, just past the bench that Aiden was sitting on. He’d come here immediately after school, sending a quick text to his parents to let them know he was meeting friends. He’d waited anxiously on the bench since then, his backpack slumped beside him. He’d talked to Kiru, then worked on homework until he got bored, his hopes waning with the day.

Yellow

A person stood on a make-shift stage, a heavy vest, armored pants, and a domed helmet obscuring most of their features. Their arms were the only things that were bare; though they lacked the typical staff and shield of most police officers, yellow still tinged the visible skin, Familiar relaxed but prepared to be used at a moment’s notice.

Green

Gertrude forced herself not to make a comment at the lack of control, her own Familiar responding to her frustration; green flickered through her skin, a hot-cold, disconcerting feeling flashing along her neck. “You’d turn a poor, defenseless kid over to the police? Dear, I didn’t think you were so heartless.”

Blue

“What’s this?” A video had been pulled up, paused at the beginning, and Aiden’s heartrate skyrocketed when he saw the blue, reptilian creature. “Is that a dragon?” The dragon was small, as most modern dragons were—about human sized, two small wings as forelimbs, scaleless, with whiskers on its muzzle, eye ridges, and chin. Its slitted blue eyes turned to stare at the camera.

Indigo

(Weren’t any instances)

Violet

(No instances of this, either, so here’s something for purple instead.)

The cityscape changed around them, transforming from well-kept apartment buildings and stores into run-down versions of the same. A faint, foul smell permeated the air. Plenty of people still brushed past them or sat on the streets, the bright colors of Familiars blazing beneath their skin. Some were the standard, single blue-red-yellow-green of traditional Familiars; others had multiple colors flickering underneath their skin, and some had the unique purple-orange-pink of a custom—likely illegal—Familiar.

I’ll tag @maple-writes, @siarven, @pens-swords-stuff, @thatsmybluefondue, and @gotchaocha, if any of you want to do this!

#tag game #roygbiv tag game #on my heart

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noodles-writing-sideblog · 4 years

Text

Stargazing and Supernovae

I have no explanation for this unedited self indulgent story except touch starved gay yearning. I’m not sorry.

Characters: OCs

Warnings: None :)

Word count: uhhhh short

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Remi slid into the passengers seat, smiling at Elli. It was, apparently, surprise date night, and she couldn't find it within herself to be disappointed.

They sat in peaceful silence in the car as Elli drove them... somewhere. Remi leaned her head on the cool glass of the window to watch as they left the city, watching building become trees and trees become fields.

They finally pulled over next to a wide open field, and Elli opened the door. Remi pushed open her door and watched Elli pull open the trunk, pulling out the dark blanket they kept in the car. It was dappled with stars, Remi could remember Elli picking it out.

Elli waved at her and grinned, calling “c'mon!” as she jogged out into the field, Remi quickly matching her pace. The sun was just starting to set as Elli led her to a small rise and laid out the blanket, settling on top of it.

Remi sat beside her, taking her hand gently. “It's nice out here, isn't it?” Elli gave her a light smile, and Remi felt her heart flutter. “It's amazing.”

The air was slowly cooling from the early summer heat to a chilly night. Elli lay back on the blanket, tilting her head back to bask in the cool air, and Remi copied her. It was amazing out.

She watched the sun slowly set, leaving red streaks in the sky even after it sank past the horizon. “Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailors warning” she recited the rhyme her mother had taught her. When the sky was pink in the evening, it usually meant it would be warm the next day, hence the 'sailors delight' part.

Once the pink had faded and the few clouds had been chased away by the wind, the sky became a soft blue, quickly darkening. Elli gave a small, contented sigh, and Remi turned her head to look at her.

She was gorgeous in the low light, the dark blue dress she'd chosen for the date falling softly around her, the loose silver belt matching her hair. Remi couldn't imagine being this in love with anyone else.

When she turned her head back to the night sky it had grown to a dark purple. She watched stars flicker to life, gently taking Elli's hand and giving a light squeeze. Elli squeezed back gently.

They sat in silence for a while, until Elli raised her free hand to trace a constellation. Remi recognized it as Cancer. Elli's star sign. Elli's hand drifted to trace Aries. Remi's sign. “We're not supposed to be compatible.” Elli breathed.

Remi shifted her head, following Elli's raised hand as it went back to Cancer. “Aries and Cancer are supposed to have low compatibility, but I can't imagine loving anyone as much as I love you.”

Remi turned her head to look at Elli again, and found her green eyes looking back. “Neither can I” she whispered back, her gaze drawn back to the sky by a burst of light.

She watched light dance in the far off distance, squinting as the colors shifted. “A star must be going supernova tonight!” Elli gasped, half sitting up on her elbows and dropping Remi's hand.

They watched light dance in the sky, a startling pop of color between the purple sky and glowing stars. Elli took Remi's hand again, lying flat on the blanket to watch.

Remi turned her head to watch Elli after a few minutes, entranced by her soft features lit up by the colors of the supernova, her face barely visible against the dark sky. She was running her free hand through her short silver hair, mouth half open as she gazed at the light. Remi shifted, lying on her left side and giving Elli's hand a small squeeze with her right hand.

Elli turned to look at her, green eyes widening when she saw Remi smiling at her. Her cheeks were faintly tinged pink, almost invisible in the darkness. She had goosebumps rising on her arms from the chilly air. She tilted her head, smiling, and Remi leaned in, silently closing the distance in a light kiss.

She broke the kiss after only a few moments, meeting Elli's eyes in the darkness. She could faintly see the green tint to them as the sky was lit by the rainbow of the supernova.

She suddenly couldn't imagine looking up again, there was nothing in the boundless universe that could have been prettier than her girlfriend.

Elli stared at her, face illuminated by the glowing sky, green eyes wide, and raised her free hand, brushing a wisp of purple hair out of Remi's face.

Remi could feel warmth in her cheeks as Elli leaned in to brush a soft kiss against her lips. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had, and she raised her own free hand to brush through Elli's silver hair, resting it gently on her shoulder. “I love you”

They stayed there all night, hand in hand watching the supernova, and, when the dying star had burned out, watching the stars and tracing constellations. The thought of leaving the field was bittersweet.

Remi couldn't imagine a day without Elli at her side. Her heart still fluttered whenever she looked at her, and she knew she was blushing when they finally got up in the morning and folded the blanket. “I love you, Elli.”

“I couldn't imagine loving you more than I do, Rem.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

As always, feedback and reblogs are more than appreciated!

#Writing #original writing #lgbt #my ocs!#Noodles wrote a thing!

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shipaholic · 3 years

Text

Omens Universe, Chapter 14, Part 1

Warnings! Asphyxiation, child endangerment.

Link to next part at the end. (From the beginning)

(last part)

(chrono)

---

Chapter 14

Oh.

Shit.

Zadkiel grabbed Adam. His hands engulfed the boy’s shoulders. Had he always been this tiny? Focus, focus -

“Adam, reality will listen to you. You are in control. Anything that you believe will come true.” Desperation tried to worm into his voice. He held it at bay. “Listen to me. You can hear me talking, right? That means there’s air. You can breathe, you just have to believe there’s air. Come on now.”

Spacedog was hollering. Adam clutched the dog to his chest, painfully tight. His arms were as pale as death.

Zadkiel made a strangled noise. He pulled Adam into a bear hug and dived.

Proxima Centauri B rushed up to meet him. He was breaking most laws of physics right now. He punched through the atmosphere, and didn’t bother to slow his descent as they streaked to the ground, miles of hard earth and marbled mud coming in fast -

Zadkiel burned through the alien sky, flaming like a meteor, and pasted himself on the rocky landscape.

His one safety protocol was to make sure Adam landed on top of him.

With a small explosion, Crowley and Aziraphale were flung apart like rag dolls.

Spacedog wriggled free and tried to lick Adam’s face. The space helmet got in the way. Spacedog pushed it into Adam’s cheek and frantically licked the glass. He whined, a piteous, unbroken sound.

The sprawled bodies did not move.

Then Adam’s face gave a twitch.

“Stop that, you silly Spacedog.”

Spacedog yapped his head off and ran around in circles.

Adam flexed his fingers, experimentally. They still held the Book.

Crowley and Aziraphale realised they had escaped being discorporated. To their dismay, this meant they had to move. They managed to roll over and flop towards Adam and each other. Sitting up could wait.

“You alright, Adam?” Crowley said without moving his lips.

Adam got the gist, even with none of the consonants. “Yeah. Thanks. It’s cool that you did that without being in a rocket.”

“Hell yeah,” Crowley managed.

“I’m so sorry, my dear boy,” Aziraphale said to Adam, just slightly more coherently than Crowley. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“He’s fine, children bounce,” Crowley said, his eyes closed.

Aziraphale tutted. “You’re incorrigible,” he said. Or tried to. It proved a little too difficult in his current state.

Crowley cracked an eye open. “Did you say I’m ineffable?”

“In. Corri. Gible.”

“Good. We don’t use that kind of language in front of the kid.”

Adam sat up, wincing. Spacedog leapt into his arms and tried once more to mash the fishbowl helmet into his face.

~*~

When they’d all recovered a bit, they took in their surroundings.

Crowley had been to the Grand Canyon. Proxima Centauri B was like that, but stranger. Its winding rock tunnels and quarries were an odd, half-melted brown. The sun was low in the sky, either setting or rising, no-one was sure. It was a shockingly pinkish-red, in a night sky tinged a deeper, richer purple than any twilight on Earth.

Crowley tried to appreciate it. It was home, now. And presumably, forever.

Perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood. They were all a bit on-edge. Aziraphale kept sneaking glances at Adam to check he was still breathing. The damn green dog seemed perfectly at home, but that just put Crowley in a worse mood.

He skulked at the back of the group, hands in his pockets. Aziraphale fell back and stood beside him.

“You changed back,” he said, nodding to Crowley’s outfit.

“Eh, yeah. White was never my colour.”

“I suspect it isn’t mine, either,” Aziraphale said, softly.

Crowley’s gaze slipped over the brown and blue and gold of him.

“No. You’ve a bit more character than that,” he said.

Aziraphale smiled up at him from under his lashes. There was a flicker of intent to that look. Heat crawled up Crowley’s neck.

Adam giggled nearby as Spacedog swam laps around his head. They turned to watch him.

“Do you think he’s still the Antichrist, out here?” Aziraphale said.

“Is that a, strand the King of Spain in outer space, is he still a King, kind of thing?”

“I suppose that’s an interesting question. Although I meant it more in a, does he still have his powers out here, kind of thing.”

Crowley’s eyes lingered on the frolicking dog. He sighed. “I think he probably does.”

Aziraphale looked grim. “Poor old Earth,” he murmured.

Crowley shook his head. “If we’d just got on the portal and not let him yammer on about the dog…”

“I didn’t think,” Aziraphale said, sadly.

“Me neither. And I’ve got no excuse. Beelzebub briefed us on that hellhound for an entire Thursday afternoon.”

They watched the boy and dog in silence.

“I suppose it is the Earth that will still - ahm. Be affected by his powers?”

“How do you mean?”

“There’s no chance he’s brought Armageddon with him?”

They stared at each other. They peered at the sky. No sudden rains of blood or other omens appeared.

“Nah, reckon it’s probably still going to happen on Earth.”

Aziraphale looked miserable.

Crowley put a hand on his arm. “Hey. All we could do was get out.”

“I know.”

“Don’t torture yourself.”

Aziraphale mustered a weak smile.

They watched Adam rooting around for a stick to throw for Spacedog. He found a sturdy one right at his feet that was the right size and hurled it across the marsh. Spacedog took off after it, yipping. It was unclear how, in the helmet, he was going to bring it back.

“There isn’t any wood on this planet,” Aziraphale said, carefully.

Crowley nodded glumly. “Guess that confirms it. Reality still bends to his will.” He thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, I doubt this planet has much of an atmosphere.”

“Mmm, yes. That should have been our first clue.”[1]

“I think a regular child would have frozen to death while he was floating in space.” And/or exploded. Crowley felt he’d seen something like that in a film once.

“...This wasn’t a very child-friendly plan, was it?”

“You’re just noticing this now? We kidnapped an eleven-year-old from his parents.”

“You talked me into it.”

“Of course I did. Demon.”

“A temptation worthy of a commendation,” Aziraphale said, with only a trace of a scolding.

Crowley turned and slipped his arms around Aziraphale’s neck.

“They’ll have to put it in a cannon and fire it into space. Hope it reaches me in a few thousand years.”

Aziraphale chuckled. It was a wonderfully warm, wry sound. It always sounded like he knew he was getting away with something. Crowley watched the tips of his hair stain pink in the alien sun.

Suddenly, Aziraphale’s face fell.

“Crowley, we don’t have to teach him maths, do we?”

~*~

Half an hour later, the euphoria wore off.

Adam trudged across the squishy, marshy ground, investigating his new territory. Spacedog trotted at his heels. Aziraphale and Crowley stood and kept an eye on him from a distance. It was nice, like an amiable family walk across a muddy field in late September.

And then, like an amiable family walk across a muddy field in late September, the mood soured. The mud that had been fun to tromp through sunk through the soles of the walking shoes that were supposed to be waterproof. The rustic landscape grew dreary. That cow had a mean look in its eye.

In other words, it dawned on Adam that he hadn’t eaten for hours, the alien planet all looked the same for miles around, there was a shocking dearth of cinemas, sweet shops or comic books in this area of the galaxy, he would never see his family again, and he had very recently almost died. Also, he forgot to bring snacks.

A suspicion had brewed at the back of his mind for a few hours now. It bubbled away, growing, gaining certainty. Now, grubby, cold and hungry, it was time to ask.

“Are you two actually aliens?”

Aziraphale and Crowley were having a murmured grown-up conversation behind him. They stopped. Their faces went blank in the way grown-up’s faces went when they were thinking how to lie to him.

“Perhaps it’s time to drop the pretence,” Aziraphale whispered.

Crowley frowned. “It’s not like the truth is any less weird.”

“I dislike lying, on general principle.”

“I’m in favour of lying, on general principle. Let’s compromise and say nothing.”

“You know full well that would be a lie of omission. Don’t think I’m going to start falling for tricks like that after six thousand years -”

“Would you both just stop talking?” Adam said loudly.

They shut up.

“You’re always talking rubbish and I don’t understand it.”

Adam frowned. He held the Book under one arm. For a moment, he heard its pages rustle.

“My whole life is just everyone talking rubbish at me, all the time. Nothing anyone’s ever told me made any sense. Like the stuff about how I was going to destroy the world. And then you two, with the alien stuff. I just believed it because everything was so weird, it’s not like aliens could be any weirder. The only person I’ve ever met who seemed like they properly knew what was going on was that woman back in the car. She’s the one who left me this.” He hefted the Book in his arms. “I’ve got more proper answers from this than I’ve got from anyone, ever.”

“What is that?”

Aziraphale took a step towards him.

Adam’s arms tightened around the Book. Spacedog leapt in front of him and growled.

Aziraphale blinked and halted. Crowley held out an arm.

A chill wind picked up.

“That woman was the only person who seemed like she wanted to help me and tell me what was really going on, and she said I shouldn’t leave. She said it was a mistake to leave. And I didn’t listen. And you zapped her away.” Adam pointed at Crowley.

Crowley inched backwards. “Hang on, I was under a lot of stress…”

“And you grew wings and flew around that bookshop. Aliens don’t do that. You didn’t look like an alien, back then, you looked more like…”

Adam stopped.

“I shouldn’t have come with you,” he muttered.

Aziraphale and Crowley stared at each other.

“You remember you forced us to bring you, right?” Crowley pointed out. “Just saying.”

Aziraphale frowned and nudged him.

The wind whipped at them. Adam was only in a t-shirt. He wasn’t cold.

“I want to go home,” he said.

It was not the lament of a lost child. The words resonated around the landscape. Aziraphale and Crowley felt them down to the bones.

A whirring pulse sounded from high above them, faintly. Nobody glanced up, but a prickle of warning ran up their necks.

“I don’t have to be here. You said reality will listen to me. She said the same thing. In this book.”

An emerald-green spotlight shone down on Adam. The wind became a roaring gale. It whipped Adam’s t-shirt. He stared down Aziraphale and Crowley through eyes that were suddenly dark under the livid green light.

Crowley squinted into the sky.

He said, “What.”

Aziraphale kept his eyes on Adam. Carefully, as though the boy were a skittish animal, he raised his hands towards him.

“Adam, we were not honest with you. I apologise. It is our fault you are in this mess. There are forces at work that it was too difficult to explain to you. You see -”

“Angel, you should take a look at this,” Crowley interrupted.

“Not now, Crowley!”

“Aziraphale, it’s a goddamned flying saucer.”

Aziraphale looked up.

A round, whirring alien spacecraft hovered in the sky above them.

“What,” he said.

Adam stood in the disco-glow of the green spotlight. Furious pulses of wind flapped down on him. He met Crowley’s eyes with a long, hard stare. Spacedog’s hackles rose.

Crowley blinked first. He edged back, one hand on Aziraphale’s arm.

The flying saucer whirred and spun. In a series of loops, it meandered down to the surface of Proxima Centauri B. It let out a gust of steam as it settled like a soggy cake.

A door opened in its side with a hiss.

A ramp descended, and three aliens got out. Two of them were green. The third was a small hump with wheels and an egg-whisker sticking out of it. It quickly got stuck in a marshy patch and made some angry distress noises that the other two ignored.

Adam stood like a king greeting foreign dignitaries as the remaining two aliens walked over to him.

“Hello,” he said.

The alien leader, who had a face like a duck,[2] approached first. “Adam Dowling?”

Adam squinted up at her. The spotlight was still blinding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“All right, sir. I believe you called for a taxi service.” The alien looked slightly put out to be used as such, but she hid it well. “We’re here to take you back to Earth.”

“Erm,” Crowley said. “Hang on.”

Everyone ignored him, to his relief. He had no idea what he would have said next.

Adam followed the aliens back to their saucer. The slightly taller alien helped the pepper-pot alien back up from where it had tipped over in the mud.

“Wait - Adam -” Aziraphale called.

Crowley put an arm around him. Neither moved to follow. Without speaking, they conceded that this was going to happen whether or not they found it plausible.

The three aliens shuffled back up the gangplank. The round, beeping alien left a long streak of mud as it trundled inside the spaceship. Adam and Spacedog walked behind them.

A scrap of paper flapped loose from inside the Book. The wind carried it directly to Aziraphale. He caught it reflexively.

Adam reached the top of the gangplank and vanished without a backward glance. The spaceship door sealed shut.

The spaceship made a Whomm Whomm Whomm noise and floated into the air. It wobbled a bit, and then streaked into the stratosphere, leaving a green comet trail behind it.

The howling gale abruptly blew itself out. The planet’s surface was deafeningly quiet.

Nothing broke the calm but a tiny green speck in the sky, already winking out of sight.

---

[1] When you only breathe out of habit, you stop thinking about things like oxygen.

[2] “Ducks,” Crowley almost blurted, as a Pavlovian response.

(Link to next part)

#omens universe fic #omens universe #good omens fic #good omens #ineffable husbands #steven universe #ahhhhh the most batshit chapter of all #bless #I enjoy those aliens #the Dalek-y one is from Book Omens #I'm pretty sure I stole all the jokes about it from there but it's been a little while since I read it #I'm sorry about how hard I went with the cartoon physics I don't know how space works and none of these idiots do either

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manage-mischief · 4 years

Text

Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows: Chapter 12

Read on AO3 or FF.net

Summary: Regulus learns a little bit about Muggle culture.

Author’s Note: Sorry this is a day late! I’ve been so busy with school! But, I hope you like this chapter. I had some difficulty writing it, but I hope it turned out ok! Thank you all so so much for your reviews. I love each and every one! If you want more content, follow my tumblr @manage-mischief. Enjoy! P.S. JK Rowling is trash :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter 12: If You Like Pina Coladas

February 7th, 1979

Saturday morning arrived, and Regulus’s nervous system was electrified. He woke up early in order to prepare himself—physically and mentally, for his trip with Des. As Regulus coated his hands with Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion and ran his fingers through his black hair, he felt like a fool. This trip to Hogsmeade was not a date, it was a mission. Regulus couldn’t afford to reflect on his potential interest in Des until after he discovered Voldemort’s secret plans. He refused to think about the way her thick walnut curls brushed his cheek whenever she whispered to him, or about the way her big grey-blue eyes sparkled with delight whenever she learned something new, or about the way her Muggle jeans accentuated her waist and hugged her…Merlin. He’d let himself get distracted again.

Regulus took one last look at himself in the mirror. Though he had tried to achieve his brother’s signature “effortlessly cool” look, he didn’t pull it off quite as well as Sirius had. Still, satisfied that he looked decent enough, he marched out of the Slytherin Dorms towards the dining hall.

Des was already waiting for him when he arrived. The first thing Regulus noticed was that—for one of the only times since he had known her—the witch looked nervous. She kept fidgeting and fussing with her clothing, pulling on her top every few seconds. She changed position ever few seconds, first leaning against the wall, then standing upright, then shifting her weight to one leg with her hip stuck out.

The second thing Regulus noticed was that Des looked fantastic. She wore high waisted jeans and a tucked-in, tight blue sweater. Her signature clear plastic glasses magnified her eyes and thick eyelashes. Her hair was pulled back in a bun by a red, polka dot bandana like that Muggle poster girl—what was her name…Rosie the Ribbiter? No that wasn’t it…Well, whatever it was, Regulus liked it that way. Des’s eyes darted around the corridor before landing on Regulus. she jumped a little when she saw him. Immediately, she broke into a wide grin, burying any previous nerves Regulus had observed. “Ah, the hermit has left the library!”

Regulus shook his head, smiling. “I thought Miss Ravenclaw of all people would approve of my new studying habits.”

Des laughed. “Come on, nerd, let’s grab some food and go!” Des led him to a table, where Woodrow and Wilhelmina were already sitting, whispering back and forth to each other:

“…bet you five galleons,” Regulus heard Wilhelmina say in a hushed tone. When Des and Regulus arrived to join them, the pair abruptly stopped their conversation. Wilhelmina smiled slyly. “Hello you two. Lovely day for a Hogsmeade trip, isn’t it?” The table jerked violently, and Wilhelmina winced.

“Whoopsie,” Des said unapologetically, reaching for the pumpkin juice. “Terribly sorry, I must have kicked you under the table by mistake.”

Wilhelmina was not deterred. “Don’t worry about it, Dezzie, I’m sure it was an accident” said Wilhelmina, before turning her attention to Regulus. “Well now, doesn’t someone look nice today?” Regulus flushed, and Wilhelmina quickly tucked her legs up onto the bench, avoiding another well-aimed kick from Des.

“Are you two coming out to the town today, too?” Regulus changed the subject.

“After what happened the last time we went to Hogsmeade? No way, mate,” McDrew said.

“Aw, poor Woody’s scared,” Wilhelmina teased. “I’d go, but I’ve got detention. I may or may not have set off a dung bomb in the library to get back at my ex and his new girlfriend.”

“Nice,” Des remarked, her mouth full of toast.

“I’m sure you’ll run into some of the others, though. But remember not to bother Marlene and Dorcas if you see them in Madame Puddifoot’s…or be prepared to deal with the consequences.” McDrew, Des, and Wilhelmina all shuddered at her words. “You two crazy kids had better get going. A line’s starting to form. Have fun,” she chirped.

Des rolled her eyes and stood. “And you have fun in detention, Willy. C’mon Reg.” Regulus obeyed and followed Des out of the Great Hall. As he left, he heard Wilhelmina begin to laugh.

“I still don’t see it, Wil. I don’t think it’s a date. I mean, Des and Reg hated each other up until a few months ago,”Regulus heard McDrew’s not-so-subtle whisper to his friend.

“You’re so thick, Woodrow. They’re obviously into each other! Marlene agrees with me. Ah I can’t wait to hear what happens! Rivals to friends to lovers! Just like all of the best books! How romantic!”

Regulus resisted the urge to go back and kick Wilhelmina in the shin himself. If she only knew the true purpose of their trip to Hogsmeade. He couldn’t think of anything less romantic or “cute” than Lord Voldemort’s plans for world domination.

---

Des and Regulus signed out of the castle with the care taker, and set off upon the familiar path to Hogsmeade. A light blanket of pearly-white snow covered the bare tree branches. The morning was grey and overcast, but enjoyably so. The sun could be seen trying to break through the cloud-covered sky. The cold was refreshing, but not biting. Des’s cheeks and nose were rosy from the crisp air.

Des and Regulus kept a few inches distance between each other. Neither one spoke. Regulus thought that this must be the first time in her life that Des was at a loss for words. “So…” Regulus tried to begin a sentence. The words died in his throat. He really didn’t know how to engage in small talk. He’d never really had to worry about speaking when he was with Ginger, and, recently, so much of his life had been devoted to his multiple existential and moral crises, that he seemed to have forgotten how to have a conversation that didn’t involve his family, Death Eaters, or Voldemort. Regulus pleaded with himself to say something, anything. But, his brain obstinately refused to comply.

Des regarded him curiously. “So…I know a place where you can tell me about…your little problem…without any chance of being overheard. I don’t think we should discuss it out in the open like this.”

Of course. Des was focused on their mission—to discuss Regulus’s Voldemort problem. He should be focused on that, too. “You’re absolutely right,” Regulus said, nodding vigorously.

“You know,” said Des after another awkward beat of silence, “just because we can’t talk about whatever it is you want to tell me out in the open, doesn’t mean we can’t talk at all.” She looked up at the trees, in the opposite direction of Regulus. She bit her bottom lip.

Regulus’s cheeks tinged pink. “I-I know. Um. What would you like to talk about?”

Des considered his question. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What? Why?”

“Why? Because I’m trying to get to know you better, Regulus! Now, what’s your favorite color?”

Regulus thought about it for a moment. “Green.”

“Aw, what a good Slytherin,” Des teased him.

“No,” he said, “not Slytherin green. Green like the ocean. When I was younger, Mum and Dad would always take us somewhere warm for the winter. We sat on the beach, and Sirius and I would make sandcastles. It was nice.”

“That sounds nice, spending time with your family…doing normal ‘family’ things. Before they messed with your mind and you joined an evil cult,” she mused.

“That about sums it up,” he agreed, trying to hold onto the memory of the warmth and the sun and the sand. Oh, how things had changed. “How about you?”

“Purple. Royal purple, like kings and queens wear,” she stated immediately. Regulus raised a questioning eyebrow, silently asking her to explain. “I’ve always liked it. Though, I guess it’s also kind of related to a memory. But, just a flash of one—from when I lived in New Orleans with my parents. Right before Dad died, when I was almost four, he brought me to the Mardi Gras parade. I can’t recall the details, but I remember flashes of color: green and purple and gold. And when I close my eyes, I can see his smiling face as he held me and put a purple strand of beads around my neck because he knew it was my favorite.” Des sighed. “Merlin, aren’t we a dramatic pair? We start off at our favorite colors, and end up at the sob stories of our broken families.” She laughed uncomfortably and began playing with the cuffs of her sleeves.

Regulus considered the comment she had made in passing. He thought about his life the past few months. The conversations he’d had, the danger he’d put himself in. Then, he began to laugh. Almost hysterically. He had to stop walking as he doubled over, hands on his knees. She looked a bit concerned. “Regulus? You alright?”

Between gasping breaths, Regulus managed to say, “You-you’re absolutely right! I am so. Fucking. Dramatic!” He lost the ability to speak once again. This time, Des joined in. Together, they stood there, smack in the middle of the trail, laughing. Onlookers passed by and shot them odd looks. But Regulus didn’t care. He felt invigorated—lighter-than-air—like he was forcing out the worries, the darkness that had consumed him for the past years. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed this hard for no reason. He felt free. His lungs burned, his stomach muscles ached, yet, he felt alive.

“Do you…do you maybe want to grab a butterbeer like normal people before we go off to your secret dramatic place to talk about my secret, dramatic news?” Regulus asked, before he could think better of it, still high off of his semi-hysterical breakdown.

Des grinned. “I reckon that’d be a nice change of pace.”

---

“You’re mental! There is no way that Potions is better than Transfiguration!”

“You asked my opinion,” Regulus insisted, spreading his hands out in front of himself defensively. He chuckled at Des’s indignation. “You asked what I preferred! I’m just telling you!”

Regulus and Des were seated at a cozy corner table in The Three Broomsticks, sipping their butterbeer and asking each other trivial questions. Regulus almost felt normal.

Des rolled her eyes. “Merlin, I know, but I thought you’d have the right opinion. I don’t know if we can even be friends anymore, Reg,” she said seriously. Regulus stared back, playing along with her faux aggravation.

“Fine,” he said, matter-of-factly. “We’re not friends anymore. Then I guess I’ll just go off and find some other boisterous Ravenclaw to tell all my secrets to. One who appreciates the subtle art of potion making.” Regulus pretended to get up to leave.

Des tilted her head to the side. “Aw, Reg, it’s sweet you think you’d ever find anyone as ‘boisterous’—as you so delicately put it— as me.” Her façade broke, and she began laughing. Regulus joined in.

“You’re absolutely right,” he joked. “You’re one of a kind.” An awkward silence fell over the table. Regulus averted his eyes. “Ok, my turn. Hm… let me think of a good one…Alright, alright. I’ve got it. Favorite vacation?” He asked.

“Oooooh that’s a tough one, Black. I’ll have to think on it. You go first.”

“Greece,” Regulus replied immediately. “I went to see the Quidditch World Cup there when I was ten. England lost, but it was a great game.”

“Merlin, you went to Greece and all you can talk about is a Quidditch match? Not the ruins or the history?” Des chided.

“Listen, I’m from an ancient line of pureblood wizards. I can look at fancy old stuff whenever I want. But Quidditch,” he sighed dreamily. They both laughed.

“Alright, fair point,” Des conceded. “Quidditch. What a good little pureblood wizarding boy,” she teased.

“Hey, you say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ll have you know I’m one of the most eligible bachelors in pureblood society. As we speak, families are throwing themselves at my parents in the hopes of getting their daughters a piece of all this,” he gestured to himself seductively. Des cracked up. Regulus had never felt so at ease bantering with anyone before.

“Oh my, I must have forgotten! I’m in the presence of wizarding royalty! Lord Black! Please accept my deepest admirations! I kneel down at your feet! I exalt you! I envy the woman who traps your arse!”

“Your turn, Lewis,” Regulus demanded, after their laughter died down. Regulus’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“My turn, right. Okay. The best vacation I’ve ever been on would probably have to be…oh I got it! Our family trip to Cozumel. Uncle Thad was doing some research in Mexico, but Aunt Eliza wanted some time off, so while he worked, she and I went to a resort. I know you can’t really get to know a place just by being in a resort, but I just felt so relaxed. I’d never really bonded in that way with my aunt before—if you couldn’t tell, she’s usually a bit uptight.”

“No, your aunt? Uptight? Preposterous!” Regulus interjected sarcastically.

“I know, what a shocker. But, really, on this trip, we had so much fun together. We sat poolside drinking Piña Coladas and singing that Piña Colada song loudly whenever it came on the radio. It was brilliant.”

“Pee-nya Cold-latas?” Regulus questioned, now seriously. “Song?” Des’s eye widened with glee.

“Merlin’s balls, I forgot all you purebloods aren’t exposed to Muggle culture. Well, let me tell you: Piña Coladas—” Des sounded it out for Regulus “—are by far the best beverage money can buy. They’re made of rum and pineapple and coconut and it’s a rule that you must have one when you are on vacation at the beach,” Des spoke a mile a minute, rambling about her love of the strange-sounding Muggle beverage. Regulus laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Well, if I ever get to the beach again, I’ll have to try one. And there’s a song about them?” Regulus asked, highly amused. Muggles were quite strange.

“Yes! The Piña Colada Song is a musical masterpiece of the modern era,” she waved her hands dramatically. “Oh, my goodness!” She clapped her hands together loudly. “I’m so excited! I get to be the one who introduces you to the Piña Colada Song! Ugh, maybe Aunt Eliza will send me her record and I can borrow Flitwick’s turntable…I’ll tell him it’s an emergency…why are you looking at me like that? Have I got a butterbeer moustache or something? Because if I did, it would be extremely un-gentleman-like not to tell me!”

Regulus was staring at her, his mouth stretched in an uncontrollable grin. “No, no! Nothing like that. I was just thinking about how…fascinating you are, Des. You really are one of a kind.”

Des looked taken aback. She averted her eyes shyly. “Well,” she said, regaining her usual air of confidence “it’s just… I really like the Piña Colada Song.” A breathy laugh escaped her. Cautiously, Regulus placed a hand outstretched on the table. He tried to act casual about it. Did Regulus really have to talk to her about the Dark Lord? Did he really have to think about the impending doom that awaited everyone he loved if he didn’t figure out Voldemort’s plan? Couldn’t he just leave it to someone else and enjoy his afternoon in peace, like a normal teenage wizard?

Des’s hand twitched, moving slightly towards his own. Before she took it, however, she looked up at the clock beside them. She sighed. “I reckon we’d better go,” she said, draining the last sip of butterbeer from her mug. He frowned, but nodded. She was right.

“Come on then, Reg, time for us to have a chat.”

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al-n-cartoons · 4 years

Text

The Multiverse in a Blender, Chapter 2 Part 1

The room was of a fairly large size, looking to have been designed with formal business meetings in mind. In the center of the room was a large, empty space, although the difference of faint dirt on the ground seemed to indicate that a large table had been recently moved for what might have been the first time since the building was first opened.

Beside the wall nearest to the door was the table, long enough for a family of twenty to sit comfortably and with an oval top, on which various food items had been set precariously, every item seemed to be store bought. In place of the table at the room's center was a karaoke set, although it was currently unoccupied.

"Wow", said a boy with snow-white hair and murky, greenish skin, having just phased through the unlocked door, "Is this a meeting of heroes, or some eight year-old's birthday party?" He looked around, eyeing each person.

"We thought it would be best to break the ice and have some fun before anything crazy happened." Remarked a slightly older teen with olive skin, black sleek-back hair, and dark brown eyes. He wore a red biker jacket and orange-lensed goggles. He offered out a hand, "Hi, my name's Rex. This building is part of, well, what was my reality. Kind of glad to see the change, but moving that thing was a pain." He gestured towards the snack table with his other hand, internally cringing at how cold the undead boy's hand felt in his own, even through the gloves.

The white-haired teen smiled. A ringlet of light passed over him, leaving behind a lean-built, slightly slender person in its wake. His hair changed to black and eyes, once a chemical green, were now a light blue. His skin was light and lively. "I'm Danny, pleased to meet you."

"Oh, Phantom!" Called a voice Danny somewhat recognized. Both turned to see Ben, who'd been conversing with a bronze-skinned, aquamarine haired girl who looked older and more toned than even Rex. She eyed both of them, smiling a few seconds too late for it to have been her default. "That leaves Steven, Dexter, and the girls..." Ben muttered, more to himself then to anyone else.

"My sisters are carrying Dexter, they shouldn't be too long now." The virile-bodied girl assured.

The boy with goggles gave a hearty laugh, "The first non-charity party you've thrown, and only three guests show. Wow, Ben, you're worse then Six."

Ben gapped like an earthbound fish, "You did not just say that!" The mock-offense in Ben's voice only made Rex laugh harder, pleased with himself.

"Preeeetty sure I did."

The door opened, gently, politely, as though the newcomer were slightly bashful. "Sorry if I'm late." A teen as old as Rex and almost as tall voiced, "Lion was having some difficulty teleporting, considering..."

"Yeah, I'd imagine teleporting would be a bit difficult after the 'retcon'." Ben remarked, assuringly. He noticed the box the other person held, "Whatcha got there?" He queried. "Oh, guys, this is Steven." A pause, filled with a curious glance by each person. "...You can let go of the door now." Ben eventually said after Steven remained attached to the entrance.

Steven cleared his throat, "I know you said to come alone, but that wouldn't be fair...I wasn't the only one to remember." He explained, widening the doorway. "This is my girlfriend, Connie, and my best bud, Lion."

"Oh." Came Ben's clever response. Danny stiffened, feeling exposed; Rex waved uncaringly; and the eldest simply stared. Lion, unaffected by anything or one, brushed passed the couple and made a beeline for the snacks, before flopping gracelessly into a sleeping pile by the end of the table.

"Welcome to the party." Rex said boldly, "Just know that no one'll believe you if you go and spout stuff about the 'retcon'."

Connie furrowed her brow, "You're calling it the 'retcon'?" She asked, almost in disbelief.

"Not my idea." Rex answered with a casual shrug.

Ben passed his gaze around the room, "Well, it's not like we didn't consider the possibility of someone bringing an extra. I just thought it would be Rex or Buttercup."

"Is it really that big of a deal?" Connie asked, slightly annoyed at their reactions.

"It's just that some of us are still trying to keep our identities on the down-low." Rex assured, nodding to the youngest currently present, "Namely ghost-boy over here."

"Ah." She locked eyes with Danny, "Alright. I swear on my grandma's grave that I won't tell."

"Oh, my god!" Groaned a voice from behind the door, making the duo jump. "Are we just going to stare at each other, or are we going to DO something?!" Her voice was boisterous and utterly impatient.

"Buttercup!" Chided another voice. Connie and Steven moved aside, allowing for four others to enter the room. The tallest was the second speaker, with silky ribbons of hair extending to her waist and a definite theme of pink and red in her attire. The first speaker was a boyish girl, nearly as tall, with short black hair and uncanny green eyes. She was dressed with green and black, punk-like in style. The last girl had bright blond hair in pigtails, blue eyes with matching clothes, and a definite spring to her step. The fourth person, shorter then the rest and quietly fuming to himself, was a teen boy with rather normal ginger hair-contrasting the other three by a lack of unnatural vibrancy-purple gloves and boots, black turtle neck and pants, and a lab coat which reached his thighs. He either hadn't gotten word that the event would be of a more laid back nature, or he simply didn't care.

"Don't be so rude! We're trying to make a good impression, for once." The redhead exasperated.

"Hey, Dexter, did you enjoy your trip? I hear you took the scenic route." Ben teased to the far shorter teen, whose scowl only deepened and cheeks tinged a slight pink.

"Your question, Mr. Tennyson, is unappreciated. Likewise with my sister, Buttercup, in that SHE KEPT SWINGING ME!!" Dexter monotoned, before ascending into an accusatory shout.

The blond and redhead laughed at their brother's expense, Rex giving a guffaw. Ben, on his part, was at least trying to stifle his amusement.

"So, that makes everyone." The first girl noted.

"Not everyone." Ben interjected, "But Zak met a...complication. I don't think he'll be coming."

"I made a cake." Steven commented, holding up the box.

"Sweet! Buttercup cried, ecstatic, "Finally a desert that actually tastes good for a change." She cast a disproving look to the party dish the second sister held.

Blossom gave a huff, "I'll have you know that my confections are a healthful delight, unlike the cavity-inducing blobs of sugar you scarf down!"

"Alright, alright, settle down." The eldest sister remarked. "Oh, by the way, my name is Bliss, and those are my siblings Blossom, Buttercup, Bubbles,–and Dexter."

"One of these things aren't like the other." Rex whispered to Ben.

"Neither are you compared to Six or Holiday." Ben returned, giving the taller teen an amused look. Rex raised a brow, taking a moment before finally comprehending, making an 'O' shape with his mouth.

"Did someone say 'karaoke machine'?" Steven suddenly asked.

"Literally no one said that." Connie responded. Undeterred, the stout gem neared the microphone, making quick work of the music selections.

"Hm, I'm not really seeing any songs I like here." Steven hummed while scrolling.

"Have you tried sorting by genre?" Blossom asked, setting up her powdery cookies among the other snacks, her sisters cringing behind her but Dexter simply taking up a plate and various food-items.

"It doesn't come with that option."

"How about some music roulette?" Ben offered. Upon receiving little more than bemusement flash across their collective countenance, he gave a quick description, "We set the music to randomize, turn on an auto-reset timer, then take turns singing the songs. If a person drops the beat on their turn, they lose."

"Is it like multiple songs, multiple bits of different songs, or just one song?" Steven asked, liking the idea of the game.

"That's the beauty of it; we don't know. This thing has whole songs, mixed vocals, and more! Zak and I play it sometimes, but my cousin, Lucy, came up with it."

Steven beamed, giving an excited little clap, "Ah! Cool, sign me up, then."

"Just so we're clear..." Connie said, slowly, "All we have to do is keep the beat up, not necessarily follow the lyrics, right?"

Ben frowned thoughtfully, "Well, we've always tried to keep to the original, but there's nothing saying that we can't mess around with the words." He mused.

Ben moved swiftly, setting up a timer on his phone before taping the screen of the karaoke machine, allowing it to play at random. The beat that came was pop, easily, and slightly formulaic in its repetition. Ben waved a hand to an empty bottle, spun it, then pointed to Connie upon its landing neck-wards at her.

"Hey, so, we're off to flee,

so, come 'n take me,

so, it could be fun.~" She sang, the music quick and disallowing for much breath.

#ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 #rex x ben #Rex Salazar #Steven Universe #Danny Phantom #Zak Saturday #Dipper and Mabel #Mabel Pines #Dipper Pines #singing #Connie #The Multiverse in a Blender

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kd-holloman · 4 years

Text

Eisoptrophobia

I’m back with a short story based on the fear of your reflection! It was beta read by the wonderful @andrewminyardd!

Warnings: Blood, gore, and self-harm.

The worst part about the mall wasn’t the crowds of people or the double-takes I received when I spoke and my voice contradicted my masculine appearance. It wasn’t the way my feet ached after browsing through racks of clothing or the way the overpowering scent spilling from the fragrance store gave me a headache. It wasn’t browsing the racks, finding clothes in my size, or waiting for Ashley to finish trying on her sixth pair of jeans that day.

It was the mirrors.

I remember the first time my reflection waved at me. I’d been standing on the sidewalk in front of a glass storefront while my mother admired an antique china set, my hand clasped in hers. I could see my reflection watching me back, dark sullen eyes, and a disinterested expression. Then, she moved on her own. She pressed her hands against the glass and whispered, Free me.

I never understood how people could spend hours sitting in front of the mirror, putting on layers of makeup or curling their hair so it laid just so. Weren’t they afraid of the face looking back at them? Didn’t they hear the sinister words it whispered to them?

Judging from the way Ashley admired her butt in the mirror, the answer was no. “Millie, what do you think?” She asked, twisting so the jewels on the pockets winked under the store’s harsh lighting. “I think they’re cute. Though, they might be too nice to wear to the carnival.”

“I like them,” I replied, picking at the chipping black nail polish on my fingernails.

“You’re not even looking.”

I let out a resigned sigh and looked, “Yeah, they’re great.”

In the mirror, my reflection stared back at me, dark circles beneath tired eyes. She smiled at me, even though I was far from cracking even the smallest grin.

Don’t look, I told myself. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.

What’s the matter? My reflection asked. Are you afraid?

Terrified.

“Are you okay?” Ashley asked.

I kept my eyes on my sneakers. “Fine.”

The carnival was the most exciting thing to happen in Winston. For just a few dollars college students could take their girlfriends on dates, eat until they felt sick, and woo their lovers with cheap prizes from the ring toss.

I liked the carnival. There was something nostalgic about the scent of fryer grease floating through the air, mingling with buoyant music cut with the shrieks of ecstatic children.

I sat with Cole on Super Loop. I would never admit it to him, but I thought he was cute with his bright smile and muscles from playing on the lacrosse team.

“The last time I rode this, I was with my ex and her hair got in my mouth.”

I smiled back at him and said, “You don’t have to worry about that with me.”

He chuckled and ran his hand over the top of my shaved head. “Yeah, you’re right. Why do you shave it, anyway?”

I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him that I was too afraid to look in the mirror long enough to brush my hair and it had ended up so knotted that I’d snapped the handle off of my hairbrush in my attempt to detangle it. “It’s easier.”

“That’s a good point.”

The car hissed and lurched forward so fast that it pressed me into the back of my seat. I gripped the handle and let out a delighted shriek.

“You gotta put your hands up!” He encouraged me. He put his arms up in the air to demonstrate.

“What if we fall out?”

“At least you get to say you died in a fun way.”

My face hurt from smiling so hard. “Okay, but if I fall out I’m going to haunt your ass.”

“Deal.”

I put my arms in the air.

When we got off we stumbled around until we found Ashley and Doug waiting outside of a funhouse.

“Hey, do you guys want to go through the funhouse with us?” Ashley asked.

I stared up at the funhouse. It was painted in swaths of bright yellows, blues, and reds. The entrance was a sinister clown with its mouth wide open like it would swallow anyone brave enough to enter whole.

I’d never been in a “funhouse” before, but I’d seen enough scary movies to know that there were mirrors inside.

“No,” I said quickly. “I-I don’t want to go inside. I’ll wait for you out here.”

“Oh, come on!” Cole said. He put an arm around me. “It’ll be fun. It’s not scary inside, you know.”

I stepped out of his reach. “I don’t want to go in.”

“Please?” Ashley begged. “It’ll be fun!” She curled her fingers around my wrist. I could feel her bright pink nails digging into the pale underside of my arm.

I planted my heels. Fear tasted metallic on my tongue. I couldn’t find the words to argue.

“I got this,” Cole said. He reached down and picked me up, throwing me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I demanded, trying to kick free. “Cole, I’m serious! I don’t want to go in!” Fear was scraping its jagged talons through my insides, clawing its way up the back of my throat.

He carried me through the entryway and set me down. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you get lost.”

I wasn’t afraid of getting lost.

Ashley and Doug were right behind me.

I couldn’t move.

“Hey!” The carnie snapped, peeking his head inside. “You can’t stop inside the doorway. You have to keep moving.”

“Sorry!” Ashley said. She gave him an apologetic smile and squeezed past me. “Come on, Millie.”

I had no choice but to follow them.

I managed to navigate the rollers on the floor without falling. I crawled through a plastic tube that smelled like sweat, but I lost them when I had to feel my way, unseeing, through a pitch-black room.

I fumbled blindly through the room until I found the door. I pushed through it and it swung shut behind me. I froze, unable to make my feet move. Everywhere I looked I was surrounded by my reflection.

It was my worst nightmare and she knew it.

My reflection threw her head back and laughed, her teeth white and perfectly straight from years of braces. Did you really think you could hide from me? She asked, her words a whisper in my head.

“Don’t,” I hissed, hands covering my ears.

Do you think you can silence me?

“I just have to get through the maze and I’ll be free. Everything is going to be okay.” I told myself, voice quivering with fear. I didn’t sound convincing, even to my ears. The only way I was going to get out was if I put one foot in front of the other.

I did.

She followed.

Do you think you can run from me? She asked. She seemed thrilled by the prospect of me running. Her smirk was dimpling the corner of her mouth, her eyes manic and bright. When are you going to learn that you can never escape me?

“Don’t listen. Don’t listen.”

She smacked her hands against the glass and I swore it shivered beneath her palms. She leaned in close enough that the mirror should have fogged with the heat of her breath but it remained clear. I am you, Amelia.

I stumbled back, hitting the mirror behind me. It quivered under my weight. “You’re wrong!”

I’m not and you know it. You’re afraid of me because you’re afraid of yourself. I am the darkest parts of you. Do you remember that time you thought about squeezing Anna Smalley’s neck until her face turned purple and her eyes popped out of her head? That was me.

“Stop!”

My reflection smiled. It was a twisted and gruesome expression that was unnatural on my face. When will you stop being afraid and embrace what we can be?

There was no we. There would never be a we.

“Millie?” Cole called. “Are you okay?”

Relief made me feel weak at the knees. “Cole? Thank god! I’m lost!” I called out, my eyes never leaving my reflection. She didn’t speak when I did. Her mouth never moved.

“Hold on,” He shouted, “I’m coming.”

We stared at each other, my reflection and I. Each beat of my heart seemed to drag on forever and ever.

Cole’s reflection appeared beside mine as he came up beside me.

She reached for his reflection like she was going to caress his face. Then, she dragged her nails across his face, gouging into his flesh, leaving it hanging in shredded, bloody, ruins. She did it again and again. I am you. I am you. I am you.

“Are you okay?” Cole asked. When he spoke, his reflection did as well, the bloody tendons and muscles moving beneath his ruined skin to make his jaw move. I could see a bit of bone, blinding white, tinged with pink.

I am you. I am you. I am you. I am you.

“Millie?”

I blinked and looked at him. His face wasn’t torn to bits. There was no blood, thick and bright, running down his neck and staining his shirt. He looked fine. I closed my eyes and kept them shut. “Get me out of here.”

I couldn’t get her voice out of my head.

I am you. I am you. I am you.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I never wanted to see her again.

I picked up the clay chisel from my desk. It still had pieces of grey modeling clay stuck to the end from one of my sculpting projects. It was sharp enough. It would do just fine.

I went down the hall to the bathroom. I didn’t want to do it without being able to see. I wanted to see her face when she realized what I was doing.

I am you. I am you.

The bathroom was empty this late at night, which was surprising. College kids functioned on odd schedules.

I stood at the sink, gripping the cool edges. I wouldn’t let myself avoid this. It had to be done. I was tired of living my life afraid of catching glimpses of my reflection. I took a deep breath in, counted to ten, and then I lifted my gaze to the mirror.

She stared back at me, gaunt face blank, eyes dark. She didn’t seem to be afraid. I know what you’re going to do.

I held the chisel in my hand. “You should be afraid.”

You won’t. You’re a coward.

“I’m not.”

She threw back her head and laughed. You think you’re brave enough to do it? Yeah, right! You? Please, you’re the one that took down your mirror when you moved into your dorm. You’re the one that won’t get a smartphone because you’re afraid of seeing me. You won’t even sit in the front seat of the car if you can help it. You are a coward.

“I’m not!”

You are. Do you know how I know? Because I am you.

The chisel shook in my hand. I didn’t break eye contact as I held it up, just millimeters away from my eye.

I am you. I am you. I am you.

I took a deep breath in and let it out fast, the way I had when I’d gotten my ears pierced, and shoved the chisel into my eye.

The pain doubled me over. My eye throbbed as wet, hot, fluid ran in rivulets down my face. The white of the sink beneath me was spattered with red droplets.

I let out a pained wail and let the chisel clatter into the basin. The end of it was red with blood. Tears dripped down my cheek from my good eye. A sob broke its way free from my chest. It hurt, it hurt so much.

With blurred vision, I lifted my head and looked at myself.

My reflection was still staring back at me. Vitreous fluid and blood poured from her eye socket, staining the skin on her face. Her expression was blank.

I ignored the way my eye throbbed with each beat of my heart and with a shaking hand I picked the chisel up again. “You have to do this,” I sniffed. “J-Just one more and you can be free.” One more. I could do it. I held it up in front of my eye.

Don’t forget, my reflection whispered, I am you.

I jammed the chisel into my eye.

#horror #short story #writers of tumblr #writerblr #writeblr #writing #horror short story #tw blood #tw gore #tw self harm

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cwriteshistorysortof · 4 years

Text

Bones - A Creepypasta

A/N: Wrote this for Mrcreeps on reddit, figured I'd post it here cuz why not.

When I was young I’d loved nature, camping, fishing, playing in creeks and climbing trees. Growing up in central California there was lots of great camping sites that were never too far of a drive for my family, so we went on woodland excursions often. Especially in the summer when the weather was nice.

Love of the outdoors runs in my family, and that meant we were aptly prepared for all of our trips in terms of supplies and knowledge of surrounding areas. In short, we never had a bad camping trip that was caused by our own ill-preparedness. Though we’d had a few ruined by unexpected weather, freak rainstorms in the middle of summer that kept us holed up in a tent or RV for days.

I thoroughly enjoyed trips to one place in particular, a private campground, that’s been in my family for generations, and is on the border of a Native American reservation, and used to contain cattle. It is very large and very wild, still containing patches of rusted barbed wire fence and littered with old cow bones depending on where you go. Most of the cow things of course are in the old pasture, which is also scattered with old cabin parts: gas stoves that don’t work, beds and tables rotted or half eaten by termites.

Though those fences, and a few old cabins, most no longer usable, are the most permanently human thing about the place. There are no trails, besides the rode to reach the camp. If you want to hike, you have to drive quite a bit to get to trails, otherwise you can explore the vast campground without a path. There are sprawling meadows, wet and marshy, squelching beneath your every footstep, sucking you deep into the mud. Then the creek, surrounding by willows and all sorts of little greens, crawling with insects and chock full of lively fish, snatching the bugs from the air, disappearing beneath the murky surface once more. The creek bed is deep, and isn’t full in the summer so there’s a wall of stacked granite rocks before the tree lined banks, terrible to climb.

Finally there is the true woods, densely packed, towering sequoias. My mother always told me with a childlike awe, how some of them could be thousands of years old. I was already short, still am for my age, but these trees made me feel small and insignificant, like I had been dwarfed by them in a way that nothing else ever could. Though there had been fires in this area, the large trees had recovered, sporting a shell like look near there roots where they had been damaged and regrown. It was ominous to me, yet simultaneously beautiful.

It’s also got beautiful wildflowers, so many, everywhere, i thought it was weird that they were in the pasture too, but my mom says the cow pies fertilized them. I found the idea a little gross, but I loved the flowers. There were little purple ones that looked like shooting stars, mini white ones that grew in clumps like some strange broccoli, ones with long, thin red petals that looked like feathers. And of course there were little red and yellowish orange lily’s that had black spots on them, the rarest and most beautiful that I’d spend hours hunting for, only to come up with three wilted flowers and scraped knees and elbows from trying to climb the slippery rocks of the creek bank.

This place is really, truly, special. I can’t emphasize enough the wildness of it. Maybe it’s got some kind of special eldritch enchantment that kept drawing me deeper, always revealing, even though I’d been coming there every year for almost my entire life. There was something new around every corner. Even now, especially now, as I am older, I realize how unique that place is because I’ve never been anywhere that’s come close to making me feel the same way. At once curious, enchanted, comforted, even scared.

There was only one occasion where that fear was truly justified, and the strangeness I felt of that place proven to be true.

Based on what I’ve told you, you can guess I liked to explore, to go further than I’d gone before and find something new and novel, even if it felt a tad odd. This... I don’t know what to call it. Encounter? Happened when I was ten, and it all started with those flowers.

You see the best part about exploring was that strange chilling, enchanted feeling I got, but that only ever seemed to happen when I was alone, and we always went camping as a family: me, my mom, my dad, and three older sisters. This meant in most previous trips i had a gaggle of siblings, or at least on to accompany me on adventures. Don’t get me wrong I love my siblings, and playing with them was fun, but i never got to go far on my own because of them.

But that trip, when I was ten, they were all more than thirteen, and reaching the point where they no longer wanted to play in the woods. All they wanted to do was sit in the RV and play on their phones. I still wanted to go down to the creek, or something that wasn’t being cooped up inside so I asked my mom if I could go play by myself.

Of course neither of my parents liked the idea of any of their children going into the woods alone, even if we were the only people for miles I could run into a bear or simply fall off a too-tall rock and injure myself. So I promised them I would stay close by, and said I would just be looking for flowers. I told myself it would be enough to keep me entertained.

But i wanted the red and yellowish-orange flowers with the black spots, or Tiger Lilies I think they were called, and I couldn’t seem to find any of them near me. I was on the opposite side of the creek from my campsite. I’d had to wade through the shallow part of the creek to get across, and now my jeans were wet up to my knees, the heavy denim weighing me down as I trudged alone the creek bank. Suddenly I heard chittering to my left, in the opposite direction of the campground.

I quickly whipped my head around, thinking it was a large insect and preparing to run as those were really the only thing out here that bothered me. But when I looked I saw nothing, for a moment, then I noticed one of the flowers I had been hunting for. I began hopping happily towards it

The air was warm and heavy, humid as the summer sun evaporated water in the plants and creek. Clouds of mosquitoes filled the air, and I had coated myself in bug spray to keep them from biting me. It’s strange wet-dry feeling bothering my skin as it melded with my sweat, burning the little nicks on my skin from tree branches and thistles. It’s pungent alcohol scent invaded my nostrils.

But I was elated as I plucked the flower from the ground, holding it up triumphantly, peeking the sunset sky through the trees, the same color as the flower through the trees. For a moment everything seemed cast in warm shades, red, pink, orange, brown. Everything except the needles of the evergreen trees. I closed my eyes, feeling hot sweat running onto my eyelashes, as those same warm colors appeared behind my eyelids.

When I opened my eyes I could see another Tiger Lily, some fifty feet ahead, and I dashed towards it, adding it to my collection. There was another one ahead still, just at the limit of my vision, and I went for that one too, not thinking about how far I was straying from camp as it became, three, four, five, ten flowers. I’d never found this many before. All of them roughly the same distance apart, still far but closer than i’d ever seen them.

When i finally stopped seeing the flowers the last tinges of pink were beginning to fade from the sky and I was panting but elated. I was next to a large tree with a little cave in it, hollowed out near the roots, maybe with animal help. I crawled inside to count my haul, and catch my breathe, enchanted by this little woodland hut, getting that curious chill up my spine.

From the outside it seemed just barely big enough to fit me. But when I slipped inside I tripped on something, falling further inside than should have been possible. I felt something crawling on my skin. I closed my eyes, yelping and wiping it off, shaking myself a bit. When I opened my eyes everything was dark in the little hole, except for the opening, about four feet away from the bottom. I figured I had underestimated how deep it was, pulling myself up so I could crawl out. When I noticed something.

There was a Tiger Lily, right in front of the opening. I stood, poised to pull myself up, transfixed by this flower for a moment. How could I have missed this one? It was large and vibrant, beautiful. But my eyes stung with sweat, feeling heavier with each passing second. I figured I must’ve missed this one. When I plucked it from the tender earth, I noticed something else strange.

The air outside was suddenly cool and dry, and it hit me in a sudden burst, waking me from a hot summer daze as I pulled myself out of the tree and stood up. As I took inventory of the forest around me it was...wrong. Too quiet, too dry, the trees were, they where white, not without tinges of gray and brown as though they were dirty or scraped. I looked up for their needles, they had none, only long, white slender branches. They looked like hands with too many fingers.

I felt that chill up my spine, I felt the urge to explore that came from somewhere other than my own mind. I wanted to go home, and I shivered, my clothes rustling, no longer wet with sweat or creek water. They seemed to have dried instantly. Even my mouth, my nose, my eyes felt...dry. Like I’d been living in a desert for weeks without a drop of water.

As I shuffled forward it seemed light, a watery gray dawn with no sunrise colors, not even blue. A thick, heavy fog covered everything. I could only see about ten feet ahead of me and there seemed to be dead, white trees everywhere. How they hadn’t fallen down I didn’t know, still don’t.

They reminded me of dog feces that had been left in our backyard for two long, the way it shriveled and became white, and was brittle when you scooped it up to dispose of it. I tried not to think of other similarities. I thought I saw faces in the trees, cold, unforgiving faces that would curse me and my family if i crossed them. So I kept my eyes trained to the finger like branches up high, just barely visible on shorter trees. I had to step over branches and dead bushes that made me stumble more than once.

After a little while I reached a clearing. I didn’t realize how silent it had been until I heard a noise. A strange chittering or clacking you would hear from an insect or beetle, but deeper, much deeper. It reminded me of the sound I heard that lead me to the first flower. I shivered. Yet I felt some numb calming focus overcome me as I followed the treeline, until discovering it made a tightly packed circle around this clearing that must’ve been a hundred yards across.

I heard the chittering again, something that sounded like two sticks tapped together, over and over in rapid succession, but somehow heavier. And I felt eyes on me, more than one pair of eyes. It was like everywhere was watching me.

Suddenly the thick fog dropped, not a gradually thinning. It seemed to sink into the ground and vanish altogether. And I looked around, coming to a horrible realization as I stepped on something hard and long, and it snapped beneath my weight. What I thought had been tree limbs and bare bushes on the ground, were bones.

Right behind me. It didn’t touch me, didn’t move, but I could feel it. It didn’t dare turn around. I stood there for agonizing minutes, trying to convince myself to move. It wasn’t until it trilled in my left ear, revealing a brassy-brown appendage I saw in my periphery that i was finally able to run.k inside of an organism. It looked like all of these creatures has extra bones. Like reverse ostio-perosis. They were cracked in some places, scattered with teeth marks of some kind.

Any semblance of calm fled from my body as I heard the chittering again, this time sounding closer. But I didn’t move, my stupid animal brain thinking if I could just stay still enough, whatever was out there, wouldn’t see me. Wouldn’t do god knows what to me. But I heard it a third time.

I’d never ran that fast and I know I will never do it again. The cold scraped against the insides of my lungs and it hurt so bad I thought I’d breathed in broken glass, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t know where I was going, the only thing I knew was that I would rather run so hard it killed me than let that thing get ahold of me.

But it wasn’t my choice. I tripped on something, stumbling long enough I had to use a tree for balance, and I heard the chittering right behind me again. This time I couldn’t help it, as I turned around and saw the worst thing I couldn’t have imagined if I spent a thousand years trying.

It was almost like a centipede, if those were eight feet tall. It was wide too, brassy-brown segmented shell, long mandibles and too many spindly limbs that were not proportionate at all. It chittered, multiple sets of beedy black eyes staring at me. Yet it didn’t come closer. And that’s when I caught sigh of the larvae.

It’s lower half was almost a chasm, full of the little things, wriggling, squirming. One of them starting coming towards me, and I took a step back, but the bigger creature used one of it’s too-long arms to hold me in place as it climbed up my shoe and up my pant leg. When it reached my waist, it burrowed into my skin and I screamed, and thrashed for minutes as it settled itself beneath a layer of my flesh.

I still had one free hand, and I managed to snap of a bit of the larger creature’s spindly arm. I screamed again, this time to rally my courage as I stabbed it in the eye. It finally released me. I turned and ran once more, barreling through the trees. Within a minute I felt a sharp pain where the creature’s larvae had burrowed into me. If this place hadn’t been so dry I would have been crying, instead I dry sobbed, feeling the shard of bone already sticking two inches out of my abdomen, twice as thick as my thumb.

I don’t know how long I ran, but I remember finding that tree, through sheer luck. I don’t know if it was the same one but it had the same hollow bottom and I shoved myself into it, hiding at the bottom as I heard the creature chittering outside.

I dry sobbed, wrapping my arms around my knees and rocking back and forth, trying not to disturb the bloodied bit of bone protruding from my abdomen. It was six inches long by the time the chattering stopped. I don’t know what possessed me, adrenaline, the knowledge I needed to get help fast, but i looked over the edge, out of the hole.

I was never so relieved to see the familiar forest. It was dark, but it was a full moon, and I heard flies buzzing and saw mosquitoes. The warm summer air I was used to had returned, though I still felt dry. The trees were normal, reddish-brown.

As soon as I was able to stand up I sprinted towards the camp ground, the humid air a blessing on my frayed lungs.

When I got to the camp ground my parents looked frustrated and worried, but once they saw the bone sticking out of me they immediately had my sisters packing the truck and they huddled around me as my dad drove us to the nearest hospital. It looked like a stick to them, now it was dirty, looking more brown and red than white. They assumed I had impaled myself, but could tell how shaken I was.

At the hospital they said it was a stick, but I know what I saw after they removed it, why they had to put me under sedation. They’d showed me the ‘stick’ It had fused to my other bones, but they didn’t know how to explain it so they probably assumed I didn’t know. I don’t know what they made of the larvae, but I know it was real. It felt so real.

As for the air, they’d pronounced me severely dehydrated, one more hour and I could have died. It was a miracle I was able to run as far, and as fast as I did.

I’m so glad I found my way out because I can’t imagine a more painful way to die. I can’t believe all that creature’s victims went through it. I saw how malformed they were, and it must’ve taken them a long time to die that slow, painful death. I shudder now, just thinking about it.

I haven’t gone back to that campground or any since, and I don’t think I will, even if that place is special.

#creepypasta #horror #short story #bones #body horror tw #body horror #eldritch #scary story #violetvineyard

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bribe-the-door · 4 years

Note

If every song from hs2 was a color, what would they be?

[Track 1] Golden

so.... this is “pretty much on the nose” for what color it should be but I see it as sunset golden... except it’s the shadows of the sunset. you know how you try to take pictures on the beach at sunset and it’s all silhouettes? exactly. it’s bright and warm and golden but ALSO dark and an outline of what you’re trying to capture. your [person] is outlined in golden hues and a slight baby pink or bright orange if the sun hits the water just right on the beach... but you can’t see the faces of those in the picture.

[Track 2] Watermelon Sugar

care-free and bright pink. you’re on a beach [again.... sorry] and you’re sleepy in the sun. you have a pink drink in hand [a strawberry daiquiri maybe?] and are dulling the sunlight by way of huge sunglasses because the ocean in front of you is insanely bright blue like the ‘electric blue’ Crayola marker. it’s a song that feels drunk and dizzy and tastes sweet even on the darkest and moody of days. fight me on this. this is my happy song. it is laced with vodka or tequila and only to be thought of as a sunset song. NEXT PLEASE

[Track 3] Adore You

this one is all earth tones... a mossy green, a deep inland lake blue, some rich soil brown, all things to make up a spring-time island. there are slivers of grey and deep heather gray and an occasional metallic gold of sea life below the waters, but also hues of deep red-brown and turquoise (easily confused with black or gray under the ripples of water). it’s grainy like a vintage-film reel and smells of old books.

[Track 4] Lights Up

lights up? it’s dark, y’all. all of the colors are muted and murky, kind of like you’re drunk and trying to make out what is in front of you. it’s a deep green again, a very deep yellow or beige, despite the boldness of the sounds heard. it’s as if you’re trying to fight your way out of murky lake water and as the harmonies grow to be stronger, you’re reaching closer to the top [of the lake/pond/ocean/water]. you can finally take a deep breath of clear air once you come to the top... and it’s a clear pale blue. you made it, babe.

[Track 5] Cherry

this song screams early fall morning to me. it’s foggy, there is a hue over a big field of grey and a slight pink, but it’s too early to tell. soft colors; lilac, an olive green, so many hues of pink and white and the slightest tinge of ice blue. kind of like the most stereotypical farm/field-based Nicholas Sparks movie you can think of, but made it slow-motion and sad and also probably post-rainstorm. there is most definitely a cherry blossom tree in the background and also a small white farmhouse, too.

[Track 6] Falling

periwinkle. violet. a tiny bit of a mustard yellow. the cool hues outweigh the bright character of the yellow without fail but the yellow tries to peak out every so often, clearly outweighed by the darkness of blues and purples. it feels like the morning dew and sticks to you like the humidity of a late summer night before a storm rolls in. you feel clouded by the weight of the world but see an ounce of hope in the peaks of the harmonies, that goddamn yellow peeking though again.

[Track 7] To Be So Lonely

baby blue ONLY for the “little boy” mention. i will not take notes on this. also... this song screams groovy and crunchy colors like burnt orange and a vivid gold color, and also a nice cheery blue. kind of the sky blue you see in cartoons but also a navy blue, too. this isn’t color related but the diversity in instrumentals here is incredible, this song feels like a goddam rainbow, but muted. like a jewel-toned rainbow with some glitter. only because of the use of the phrase “an arrogant son of a bitch”. case closed.

[Track 8] She

smokey and deep red embers of a flame, somehow kept alive by a force unknown. there is a deep purple vibe to this song, too, almost confused by a black or the complete absence of color in the dark of night. there isn’t a single bright thing of this song, save for maybe a spark or fleeting ember from the fire in a blazing orange or yellow. maybe even a white [if things are hot enough]. this song is pink in nature but red in execution, only shown in the light with a deep hue of maroon and gold.

[Track 9] Sunflower Vol. 6

YELLOW! YELLOW! YELLOW! is this even an arguable POINT! it is yellow and orange and bright pink and all things HAPPY because sunflowers are warm and remind me of summer when things are okay and fine and LOVELY. also there is definitely a hint of bright green and blue and a little bit of rainbow sparkle.... but only a little. kind of like only around 1:28-:1:35... you know? it’s sparkly. get out of here if you say it’s not. the “boop boops” are also translucent like bubbles and that’s a FACT

[Track 10] Canyon Moon

transition of afternoon sun to a sunset... like dusk, but a color. oranges and yellows and the preparation that goes into a bonfire. also the golden perfection of a perfectly toasted marshmallow? crisp like the evening breeze... teal and purple with darkness but kept warm by the flames of the lasting embers of the flames in front of you.

[Track 11] Treat People With Kindness (THIS IS MY FAV)

it’s rainbow. don’t even try to fight me on this. this song can only be described as confetti cannons going off at all times. i wish i had more to say but i had too much fun jamming out to this song!!!!! it’s absolute madness!!!! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!! IT’S SO BRIGHT AND NEON AND HAPPY AND I LOVE IT!!!!!!

[Track 12] Fine Line

this one starts as a very, very dark green. it stays that hue for a while but slowly transitions into a brighter blue-green as the song progresses. little glimpses into the future of the melody show itself with golden and pink rays but they’re drowned out by the green-blue until the peak of the song when things transition into “we’ll be alright” over and over and over. it’s like a sunrise after fighting your way through the foliage of a dark night and not sure where you’ll end up. but you make it though it all and finally find the sun... golden and shadowy like this album started as. the change between dark and like are so obvious during this song.

#harry styles #harry styles fine line #fine line #fine line album #harry styles music #music review #synthasia

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omnigawker · 4 years

Text

The Traveling Hashery: Pick-Me-Up Flapjacks

There was a pair of children who slept huddled together upon a thick tree branch within a verdant forest whose nightly blue shade began to fade into a waning violet with growing tinges of a warm orange as rays of sunlight crawled in from the eastern horizon.

One of the children was a small ginger haired girl who clutched a small wooden hammer in one hand while clinging tightly onto a raven haired boy whose head’s entire left side was wrapped in clumsy bandages that had a drying red stain over the eye.

The rays managed to peek though the tree’s branches and leaves and gently caressed the girl’s left cheek causing her to woozily flutter her light blue eyes open. She slowly sat up and widely opened her mouth to give out a long yawn as she stretched before smacking her lips.

She looked at the boy who was still sleeping and felt the corners of her mouth droop. It was bad enough that the village was lost and if she had spotted that beetle in time then perhaps he wouldn’t be hurting so much. Right?

Sadly all she could do was to give the boy’s hand a soft squeeze.

That sadness however took a small hit when a warm and sugary smell struck her nose and out of habit she took in a few deep breaths and felt her mouth water immediately.

Her sadness now slightly dimmed and her stomach letting out a guiding growl, the girl shook the boy awake who then drowsily looked at her with a confused pink eye.

The girl waved the warm smell towards the boy who, after taking in a few whiffs himself, nodded in understanding and soon the two of them were carefully yet quickly climbing down the tree with every motion towards the ground making the smell warmer and its sweetness stronger.

The two children quickly turned their heads for any signs of danger before they went off after the smell which became more defined with a tinge of tarty blueberry mixed with tracings of crispy apples and tingly cinnamon.

Then they came into an opening in the forest, where the smell was the strongest, and what they saw in the middle of it was…odd.

There was a lone man standing in a small open air diner of sorts who shook his head at a stove with a closed pot before looking down at a simmering pan next to it with an oily spatula in hand. Next to the stove top was a pile of steaming purple dotted pancakes on the side that had another one added to the top. He wore a black fur collared blue jacket and a Mistralian style straw hat adorned with a small headpiece of sorts at the front most part of its frayed edge that covered his eyes.

What was most striking however was the thick bandana that draped over the lower half of his face. Stitched cleanly upon it was a wide toothy smile which was framed with a small pointed goatee and a thick mustache that wouldn’t look out of place upon the face of a cowboy.

The small girl made to step forward but the bandaged boy put a hand in front of her, pushing her back slightly. She looked at him confused as to why but the boy only shook his head in response.

The boy looked back at the man and stared warily at his nonchalance for being in what’s seemingly the middle of Grimm territory. That didn’t add up to the boy so he motioned to the girl to step away despite the alluring smell that emanated from the man’s stand.

The girl looked back and forth between the forest and the masked man with hesitation before her stomach let out another guiding growl prompting her to drag the boy towards the man.

The boy was a tad off put by the small girl’s strength as she dragged him forward with barely a struggle.

And so the girl dragged the boy to the front of the food stand and behind one of the chairs that were conveniently there and just big enough to hide them.

The two of them stood there apprehensively although the girl was certainly less so as she stood on her tiptoes and slowly reached over the counter for the pancakes at the beck and call of her stomach.

Only for a spatula to smack down between her little fingers and the savory smelling pile.

The girl froze when she looked up to the spatula wielder’s face while the boy made to yank her away only for him to freeze up as well when he looked up.

What little they could make out of the man's face was a pair of black pits with seemingly glowing green irises that glared that the children with thick furrowed eyebrows.

Those pits kept the children frozen in place and they flinched when the masked man slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out…a packet of wipes?

The man then beckoned the confused children to take a seat, which they took with a small air of awkwardness, and plopped down the opened packet onto the countertop before them and then proceeded to clean the spatula with one of the wipes.

When the children cleaned their hands they turned their heads to the rattling closed pot on the stove as the lid began to lift as scratching and hisses were heard from within. Those noises were then settled down when the masked man flicked in some pepper powder and slammed the lid shut.

Next, the man simply knelt down and opened a hidden hatch revealing a long flight of stairs and walked down its many steps. The children, particularly the girl, couldn’t help but gawk at how deep into the ground the stairs went.

The boy did however look at a hanging rack of spices and herbs amongst which was a rather familiar pink flower that brought a small sense of nostalgia and a small pile of pots whose insides were stained black with clumps of gods knows what though the once again rattling pot made him look back at it with a perturbed face.

Then a pair of ceramic plates that twice the size of the man’s hands and mugs that were big as their heads clattered in front of them and already the masked man piled on a few of the pancakes onto the plates and was pouring a neon blue liquid from a new glass pitcher hand that was coated with cool condensation into the mugs.

The children were rather hesitant as they gawked at the savory piles of fluff though the girl had a small trail of drool in the corner of her mouth and the boy slowly held a hand in front of the girl while looking warily at the cook.

The masked cook simply placed a couple forks on the counter, pushed the plates and mugs forward and stood back with clasped hands.

The boy still looked at the man with a wary eye while the girl slowly inched closer to the pancakes due to their sweet and crispy aroma that was tinged with a hint of tarty blueberries.

In response to their hesitation, the cook poured himself a small shot glass of the blue liquid which he brought beneath his mask. What came next were drips of the drink spilling onto his coat as he sloppily slurped it down.

Nothing else happened yet the boy still looked at him wary.

With a slight slump, the man grabbed a hanging fork to cut off a small piece of the boy’s pile of food to put underneath his mask and once more there was slurping as bits of food speckled out from underneath.

And still nothing happened to the man and he once again beckoned the children to dig into the flapjack before them.

At this, the boy reluctantly lowered his hand and the girl began to dig in as she took one bite and immediately began to stuff her as much as she could until her cheeks puffed out. She even hefted up the mug and gulped down all that she could in one breath though she did spill a little more than she drank.

The boy eyed the pancakes which were fluffs of golden-brown with spots of purple and yellow before he hesitantly cut himself a small piece, popped it in his mouth to chew away and his taste buds were met with the sweet crispy juiciness of apples. Tinged with the sharp tartness of blueberries and was that a pinch of cinnamon?

He proceeded to dig in. With gusto.

The boy took a small sip of blue liquid then another and another and then he began to drank it whole heartily, its sweet taste left behind a tingly sensation as it danced its way down his gullet. Couldn’t get enough of it.

The masked man hummed as he clasped his hands and his inky eyes shut, his stitched upon smile upturned even more at the children’s satisfaction at their meal.

And not even fifteen minutes later, the plates were clean with nary a golden crumb left and the mugs had nary an azure droplet. The girl let out a burp and slumped onto the stand’s countertop with a smile and the boy leaned back in his seat and patted his stomach in contentment.

Then the masked man held out a hand to the children expectedly.

The girl let out a small eep and the boy flinched before they searched their pockets for anything worth of value until the girl brought up her wooden hammer and the boy felt a familiar hilt in his back pocket and unsheathed a green dagger whose sleek blade was marred by the many minute cracks and chips covering it.

The man leaned slightly forward to the boy and instinctively the child clutched the dagger close to his chest.

The man seemed taken aback by the boy’s only to then shake his head and waved away the dagger to the boy’s confusion.

What happened next was the man gently pulling the boy closer by the arm and placed a hand on his forehead and a brief yet bright flash of purple light overcame the two.

The flash left the boy drowsy tilted to the side before being gingerly held up by the girl while the masked man, after blinking a few times and a quick head shake, twiddled with the bottom of his mask with an inspired look in his inky eyes.

He immediately went back down the stairs and sounds of clanging, clattering, chopping and some sort of clicking could be heard for a few quick minutes before he popped right up holding a pair of bento boxes with a few small cubes of literally blue cheese and some cured beef cuts on top in one hand and a small pack in the other.

Simply put, the masked man loaded the boxes with a few of the still warm pancakes, the blue cheese, the beef cuts, and even a few pouches of the blue liquid and water.

The girl brought out a roll of paper from the pack that, to her surprise when it unfurled, self-drew a road map to the nearest place of civilization. The boy, when his drowsiness waned a tad bit, couldn’t help but tilt his head curiously.

However, the masked man simply yanked the pack out of the girl’s hand to place the boxes in them and handed it back packed and zipped up with a couple of filled hanging water skins off the sides to the now lucid boy. Though he nearly fell out of his seat with the suddenly added weight.

The girl held up the self-drawing map to the masked man who simply waved it off as he gently pushed it back to the girl and waved the two children off and away from his diner.

This confused the children though the boy held his head high as he adjusted the pack’s straps while the girl, after one last look at the masked man, held up the map that drew out detailed paths in the forest to civilization.

And with that and one last wave to the man, the two children went off into the forest with warm filled bellies, bento boxes in hand and a renewed hope in their hearts for their future.

When the children were out of sight, the masked man clapped his hands and let out a content sigh as he knew what to do now and so turned back to the steaming pot in front of him that had the tapping from within weakly begin anew.

With a new mallet in hand, the man lifted the pot's lid as steam went up to show a tar black crow up to its chest in bubbling water with a chipped white mask as its severed wings and chopped vegetables of varying shades of red and blue floated on by. It let out a small shrill cry as it attempted to rise out of the water and fling itself into the man’s throat.

Its cry somehow became indignant when the man squeezed out nectar from a handful of pink flowers onto its head before it let out a squawk when the mallet struck it cracking its skull and making the crow go limp beneath the bubbling water.

The man went still as he looked at the bubbling waters expecting them to go tar black and belch out smoke to ruin yet another pot but to his surprise and delight the pot water simply went a simple dark purple.

The masked man let out a satisfied hum as his stitched on smile went up even more and not a moment too soon as the stand and the man were slowly covered by a humming aura that shifted from blue to purple to red and back again all while becoming translucent.

Now to see what the next stop will offer.

#writing #fanfic #rwby #lie ren #nora valkyrie #OC - The Hasherer #food stand #food #odd

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musingmycelium · 6 years

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fictober day seventeen “you should have seen it”

fanfiction for dragon age origins - zevwarden - gen -cw for referenced/past character death. based on @remington-zero ‘s beautiful zevwarden piece here

The sky is bright above him, clear brilliant blue with clouds perfect for gazing. A bottle of fine wine in his hand, a bouquet in the other. Carnations blooming pink, dark purple chrysanthemums, a single red rose. Dawning sunlight, gold and dusty pink air as Zevran walks down the street, still too early for anyone except bakers to be awake. And no one really walks this street except for pilgrims anyway.

It has been years since he was here last. Six of them, in fact. Each one a lifetime, each one a counted in a series of heartbeats. A smile on Zevran's face as he continues his treck, it has been far too long since he was here last. Finally able to make his way back, to accept the truth of the place here once he leaves once more. A visit and homecoming.

Ahead of him, the dawn touches a garden, caresses the green leaves and the white petals. Greets the large statue raised in the garden's middle. It's back is to him, a face he knows better than his own looking towards the rising sun. For the first time, Zevran falters. His steps halting on the cobblestones as inside his chest the heart he thought healed enough shatters all over again.

It's a different kind of ache now. Time mending the ragged edges of him, smoothing them, turning them from the all-consuming grief into a tender acceptance. He can still see it, sometimes, when the nights are long and his sheets are too cold on the other side of his bed. The way Ellanis would smile right before he kissed him, or how his fingers fit between Zevran's like they were made to, or in his infuriating, damning selflessness and desire to protect those he could at any cost.

The last time he told Zevran he loved him, right before breaking away and charging the archdemon by himself -fury and power and enough but not quite.

Zevran's smile wavers, a hiccup in his breath. Thinks instead of the first time Ellanis told him he loves him, in a moment fueled with recklessness and confusion and maybe hope he wouldn't be alone. The way his laughter leaked into their first kiss. Finds it in the mended shards of his heart to keep moving forward.

He's nearly there now, the shadow cast by the statue in the middle of the garden hiding him from the golden dawn. Drags his fingertips through the lilies surrounding it, protecting it. Their soft white petals glowing as he takes a deep breath of the sweet air. Holds that breath in his chest -six years, six lifetimes since he's been here and not once has he looked at the face of the statue they raised in honor.

But he does now.

Stone features, heroic expression. Hands gripped around a cane that doubles as a mage's staff. His amor stipped of all the things Zevran loves about him. There is no smile, no light in his carved eyes. The life of him, the vibrancy, those were lost six years ago when Zevran held Ellanis in his arms for the last time. Somehow, it makes it easier.

To know his Ellanis is not trapped here, to know his amor is kept only in his memories now loosens something lodged in the depths of his chest. An aching grief he's carried for so long lifts, and Zevran laughs. Maybe too high, and maybe too rough, but laughter all the same.

Places his wine and his bouquet on the statue's base, jumps up to sit and lean back against the legs of it. The tip of his head not even reaching the top of the statue's boots, but Zevran simply closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool stone.

"It's been a long time no? You must have missed me terribly." Sunlight turning the inside of his eyelids burnt gold, a light he can't ignore. "It is a long way from Antiva City you know, and I am a busy man these days. Did you hear the Crows are looking for some mystery assassin taking them down?" Zevran chuckles around the burn in his throat and in the back of his eyes. "You're talking to the one and only Black Shadow, they are terrified. You should have seen it."

Doesn't try to stop the tears welling, opens his eyes to the dawn and pops open the wine. Pours some of the rich red out to the ground to mingle with the salt of his tears as they fall together. "You should have seen it."

"I have missed you so much, my love."

Looks to the sky, to the clear expanse of blue which reaches and stretches forever. Clouds blurred, tinged pink and Zevran thinks of the time Ellanis pulled him into a meadow and told him of all the shapes he could see in the clouds above them. Smiles even though his hands tremble.

Zevran watches as the sun rises over Denerim fully, sits at the feet of his amor until he can no longer feel his legs. He cannon linger here, should not want to dwell where Ellanis would tell him to move on. Tells himself one day of rememberence will not hurt.

#zevwarden #fictober #fictober 2018 #zevran arainai #dragon age #dao #so apparently i've been tagging zevran as zevrain this whole time and didn't notice because im fucking blind #it always popped up as the most popular tag and i never really looked at it until i was looking for something today and i was like #hot diggity shit im a fucking dumbass #so!#lkjllkjlkjklj #anyway i hope this hurt you as much as it hurt me bc im crying in the club #<3 #my writing #i'm gonna go ahead and tag ellanis too #ellanis tabris

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arplis · 4 years

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Arplis - News: 20 Secret Staycation Swaps That Look Like They’re Abroad

We’re here to guide you through the coronavirus lockdown. Sign up to the Life newsletter for daily tips, advice, how-tos and escapism.

It’s safe to say our summer holidays are going to look decidedly different this year with quarantine travel restrictions in place, but that doesn’t mean you can’t dream about your next staycation getaway for life after lockdown.

The UK is filled with stunning landscapes, idyllic beaches, and quaint villages – it’s amazing how a few hours’ drive really does feel like you’re getting away from it all.

We swapped some popular overseas destinations with some strikingly similar UK equivalents. Enjoy.

Related...

Are Staycations The Way Forward For Your Holiday This Year?

1. Visit West Voe Beach, Shetlands, Scotland instead of Yyteri Beach, Finland

This crescent-shaped white sandy beach of West Voe beach is sheltered by steep dunes covered in marram grass and looks out onto turquoise waters. It reminds me of Yyteri beach on Finland’s west coast.

Yyteri has a magnificent 6km stretch of golden sands that has a wild feel and is backed by extensive sand dunes, wispy beach grass, and nearby woodlands.

The Shetlands has the upper hand with almost 1,700 miles of coastline and West Voe beach is one of five spots to receive a Seaside Award from Keep Scotland Beautiful. It might not be the piña colada-sipping kind of beach holiday, but you can almost imagine breathing in that fresh sea breeze.

2. Visit Observatory Gully, Ben Nevis, Scotland instead of Mont Blanc, the Alps, France

Gasping for a slice of the piste? Trade your usual ski holiday in the Alps for Scotland’s Ben Nevis, which is the UK’s highest mountain. Standing tall at 1345m, the Scottish slopes have had peak snow conditions for years where skiers, climbers, and snowboarders can tear up the slopes and take in the stunning views at the same time.

The Alps might be the more popular choice for a ski session because of its huge alpine ski region that stretches almost one thousand miles across five countries and houses thousands of ski resorts, but when flying is out of the question, sometimes you’ve got to bring powder to the people right at home. We don’t make the mountain rules.

3. Visit Elegug Stacks, Pembrokeshire, Wales instead of Nusa Penida, Bali

Elegug Stacks’ dramatic natural rock formations will rock your world. Pembrokeshire is famed for its secluded rugged cliffs, sandy beaches and untouched woodland, which some say resembles Nusa Penida in Bali.

The largest of three exotic Nusa islands off from mainland Bali, this crystal clear bay boasts picturesque cliffs and lagoons, but it can get too busy during peak season, so take the road less travelled and opt for Wales. It might lack in infrastructure (and guaranteed sunshine), but makes up for with unspoiled natural beauty.

4. Visit High Force Waterfalls, Durham, England instead of Nauyaca Waterfalls, Costa Rica

Maybe TLC were wrong. We should go chasing waterfalls, especially when they’re this beautiful. Fall for Durham’s High Force Waterfalls, which is one of the most spectacular cascades in Britain and enjoy the soothing sounds of continuous water flow.

To match the roaring force of nature it’s been compared to Nauyaca Waterfall in Costa Rica, which sits in a wide canyon that’s covered in lush greenery and offers a deep natural pool at the base where you can dive right in. You might not be able to swim at High Force Waterfalls, but the rocks are far more ancient – with origins dating back over 300 million years!

5. Visit Langamull Beach, Isle of Mull, Scotland instead of Crane Beach, Barbados

Langamull beach is home to glistening white shell sand, hidden coves and clear blue waters, which often gets mixed up with Crane Beach in Barbados. Can you spot the difference?

Voted one of the ‘Top 25 Sexiest Beaches in the World’ by The Travel Channel, the Barbados strip of powder-soft, pink-tinged sand is known for its luxury nearby resorts and villas.

But who needs the nine-hour flight to the Caribbean when we have ‘The Mull of the Caribbeans’ right here on British soil? It’s one of the island’ best-kept secrets, steeped in rich history, bountiful wildlife and iconic scenery.

6. Norfolk Lavender Fields, Heacham, England instead of Provence, France

Wake up and smell the lavender. Surround yourself with acres upon acres of dusky purple-hued flowers in Norfolk’s lavender fields. They might not be as famous as their French counterpart in Provence, but you can still get your fill of calming, delicate fragrance right here in the UK.

Provence does trump Norfolk on the stunning mountain and stone backdrop, but you can always visit another year. It’s cutting it fine, but we may catch the tail end of the season just before the lavender is harvested in September.

7. Visit Mealtfalls, Isle of Skye, Scotland instead of Háifoss Waterfall, Iceland

Prepare to be entranced by Mealtfalls’s powerful stream of water that plunges straight off a cliff and down into the turquoise clear waters below. On second glance it looks just like Háifoss Waterfall in Iceland.

Háifoss is one of the tallest waterfalls in Iceland and comes in at a whopping 122m high and well worth a visit once you’re able. If you’re lucky enough, you might be able to see rainbows within the mist of the main falls.

However, the good thing about Scotland is that there’s minimal hiking required if you’re not feeling up to it and want to get straight in seeing the stunning ancient cliffs. Result.

8. Bidean nam Bian, Scotland instead of the Asian Himalayas

Take in the breathtaking views of the majestic range of Bidean nam Bian mountains on the south side of Glen Coe. The higher you hike the more dramatic crags, ridges and summits you’ll spot along the way.

It draws similarities to the lush, verdant green mountains of the Himalayas. Travel seekers looking for adventure across the other side of the globe can chase similar thrills in Scotland.

9. Visit Cockington Village, Devon, England instead of Veules-les-Roses, France

Jokes about the name aside, Cockington is a picturesque thatched-roof village hidden away just outside of Torquay, originally founded in the Iron Age. It’s worth taking a walk back in time along this UNESCO geopark site’s narrow lanes and the nearby Cockington Country Park, which has bagged a Green Flag Award for the last 23 years in a row.

Cockington looks the spitting image of the lovely Veules-les-Roses village in France. A small, quaint town in the Normandy region dotted with watermills, Norman houses, and flower gardens. Lush.

10. Visit Sgwd yr Eira Waterfall, Brecon Beacons, Wales instead of Tad Mork Waterfall, Chiang Mai, Thailand

Hidden deep within the Welsh valleys of the Brecon Beacons is waterfall country where you’ll be treated to towering falls left, right and centre, but the highlight is the beautiful Sgwd yr Eira’s classic rectangular drop.

It’s the same shape as the Tad Mork Waterfall in Chiang Mai Thailand, which looks every bit as breathtaking and serene as the photo looks. But who needs Thailand when you have an area of outstanding beauty right on our doorsteps? It’s a 2.5-mile walk to get to the falls from the nearest village, but you’ll be rewarded with magnificent falls in full flow.

11. Visit Gaping Gill, North Yorkshire, England instead of Son Doong, Vietnam

Fall in love with Gaping Gill’s 98-metre deep pothole and have a rock-solid good time. This Northern Yorkshire rocky landmark is only open twice a year, get a glimpse of one of the most complex cave systems in the UK.

Speaking of large caves, you’re going to dig Son Doong cave in Vietnam. It’s the world’s biggest cave measuring 1.35bn cubic feet long, it’s so big that it has its own weather system and can comfortably fit a Boeing 747 in its largest passage. Yeah, that big.

For now, all the geology lovers out there can get their fix by appreciating some of the wonders we have right here in Britain.

12. Visit Lunan Bay, Scotland instead of Cape Cod, Massachusetts

Seeing double? Don’t worry it’s not your eyes deceiving you, Lunan Bay in Scotland looks exactly like Massachusetts’s Cape Cod. This British beach was originally built for King William of Scotland to defend against Viking invaders and really does have it all: a magnificent sweep of sand, a cave with an arch at its northern end, and even a ruined castle.

Its American hook-shaped counterpart can be just as beautiful, with its quaint fishing villages, kitschy tourist traps, and marram grass backed beaches dotted throughout. However, Scotland edges in the lead with its cool Viking history.

13. Visit Sandwood Bay Beach, Sutherland, Scotland instead of Skallerup Strand Beach, Lønstrup, Denmark

Secluded long coastal stretch facing the ocean? Check. Huge beautiful pink sand dunes? Check. Crystal clear freshwater blue lake? Check. Hit the holiday jackpot at the picture-perfect Sandwood Bay Beach in Scotland.

And for the lottery rollover, Denmark’s family-friendly Skallerup Strand Beach is also a winner. There are tons of activities to do here including hiking and beach fishing.

14. Visit Achmelvich Beach, Lochinver, Scotland instead of Saleccia Beach, Corsica, France

Enjoy your one-way ticket to relax town at Achmelvich Beach. Sprinkled with sandy white beaches, a ruined old mill, and a hidden cove, who would have guessed that all this was in Scotland? With its tranquil deep blue waters, it echoes something you would find in the south of France.

Do a double-take of its doppelgänger at the secluded Selaccia Beach on Corsica Island. This dazzling flash of white sand is actually on a desert part of a protected area near dense scrubland, but head north of that and you’ll be rewarded with the same turquoise seas as Scotland.

15. Visit Castell Coch, Wales instead of Bran Castle, Transylvania, Romania

Magic by name, magic by nature. Castell Coch or ‘Red Castle’ near Cardiff in Wales towers high above the surrounding ancient beech woods. This 19th-century Gothic Revival castle was built upon the ruins of a medieval fortress and it’s almost impossible to tell apart from Bran Castle in Transylvania.

Perched dramatically on a hill and you’ll be able to see its distinctive orange-tiled turrets and steeples rise high above the trees. Both castles have mystical properties attached to it. One is associated with wizards and witches, and the other with vampires. We’ll let you decide which is which.

16. Visit Smoo Cave, Sutherland, Scotland instead of Phra Nang cave, Krabi, Thailand

Go deeper underground to see Scotland’s Smoo Cave. Its limestone scenery dominates the Sutherland region and offers a fascinating network of cave systems.

For more stalagmites and stalactite formation action, cast your eye to Phra Nang cave in Krabi. Legend says that an Indian princess was killed in a shipwreck offshore and her ghost occupied the cave, which is why it’s sometime’s known as Princess cave. Whatever the tales are, one story that’s set straight is that this boat access-only cave underneath a cliff surrounded by alluring white-sand beaches is legendary around Thailand.

17. Visit Barafundle Bay, Pembrokeshire, Wales instead of Ithaca, Ionian, Greece

It’s not surprising that Barafundle Bay in Wales scooped up the Seaside and Green Coast Awards for one of Britain’s best beaches. From scenic walks along the impressive rocky cliffs to dramatic rock arches and rolling sand dunes, this golden half-mile crescent-shaped stretch is worth its weight in gold.

You may have visited Barafundle’s Greek twin: the island of Ithaca just off the northeast coast of Kefalonia. Ithaca is a mythical Greek island that’s home to Odysseus and glorious views across the Ionian Sea.

18. Visit Kynance Cove, Cornwall, England instead of Costa Paradiso, Sardinia, Italy

Kynance Cove in Cornwall is known as the Jewel of the Lizard Peninsula and it’s easy to see why. From its brilliant turquoise seas, pale sandy beaches and rocky coastline, it’ll soon be the jewel of your eye, too.

But don’t get confused with Costa Paradiso in Sardinia. Both share a similar craggily shore, but Italy’s beach resort offers a secluded beach with panoramic views of the Mediterranean rocky terrain. We’ll take both, thanks.

19. Visit Durdle Door, Dorset, England instead of Anacapa Island, California, US

Dorset holds the key to a chilled out break in the sun. Make your way down to Jurassic Coast and peep through the stunning natural wonder of Durdle Door that defines the dramatic coastline.

Once we can travel again, 5,000 miles west of Durdle Door lies the volcanic Anacapa Island off mainland California. Here, you’ll score another hole in one with another almost identical natural formation. It’s one of the most undeveloped, but utterly magical national parks in the US.

20. Visit Portmeirion, Gwynedd, Wales instead of Loro Ciuffenna village, Tuscany, Italy

Modelled on an Italianate-style village – it’s no wonder that Portmeirion on the coast of North Wales takes after its enchanting Tuscan twin. Take a walk through this fairytale technicolour pastel village that overlooks the beautiful Dywryd estuary, woodlands and mountains.

Portmeirion looks like the charming medieval village Loro Ciuffenna, where you’ll see familar rainbow-coloured buildings sitting high above the Ciuffenna river.

Related...

What The New Coronavirus Quarantine Rule Means For Your Summer Holiday

Experts Predict How Coronavirus May Change Hotel Stays

Will Coronavirus Put An End To Boozy 'Brits Abroad' Culture?

Arplis - News source http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/Arplis-News/~3/ntw3Rs9A7gI/20-secret-staycation-swaps-that-look-like-they-re-abroad

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solarine · 7 years

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Character Perfumes!

I have been battling severe depression and creative doldrums lately, but I AM GOING TO FORCE MYSELF TO WRITE A THING TONIGHT. It’s a little silly, but I’m going to make all my characters into BPAL-like perfumes. I did this for a few of them a long time ago, but now I have a better idea about many of them, and a better sense of what certain things smell like. I also have a LOT more characters than I did last time, not all played in-game, but all with their own stories and personalities. So, here we go!

Solarine Fairlight - Holy resins scenting the air of an ancient temple, and a golden shaft of sunlight falling upon the face of a contemplative Priestess, the rest of her shrouded in shadow. Frankincense, myrrh, and holy balsam, golden amber, sweet vanilla cream and honey musk with a touch of white peach, wisps of blackened cacao, and ebony wood.

Aeloren “Lori” Lasthanel - A mischievous, pixie-like warrior woman whose big, loud mouth is only eclipsed by the size of her heart of gold. Soft hay and vanilla-tinged sandalwood with soft white musk, a clatter of oiled steel, the gentle creaking of worn leather, a spicy little drop of cinnamon whiskey, and a foaming tankard of ale.

Firalaine Lasthanel - A Paladin as mischievous, loudmouthed, and good-hearted as his older sister, and by far the more feminine of the Lasthanel siblings. Golden, honeyed amber over soft white musk, a clatter of oiled steel, the gentle creaking of worn leather, and a spicy carnation acting as the “umbrella” in a coconut rum cocktail.

Vianthas Nightrunner - Cold and aloof in his ivory tower, far above Dalaran, the Mage pores over arcane tomes. The scent of dusty teak and oak bookshelves, leather bindings, and ancient, brittle paper. An ozonic, nostril-chilling anise-and-mint sparkle of arcane magic, and a cup of jasmine green tea growing cold on a nearby desk.

Lhys Nightrunner - Housed in plush luxury at home, she nevertheless leaves it behind and eagerly gets her hands dirty as she learns to wield the nature magics that could one day repair the ruin of the Dead Scar. Plush, incensed silks, a sip of pinot noir, and deep red roses grounded by earthy patchouli, smoky vetiver, and the resinous leaves and woods of ancient oaks and pine trees.

Zarayna Sunwhisper - Hidden away from the outside world in her mist-shrouded manor, the albino makes for a ghostly figure as she peers out the windows, lonely but yet unwilling to risk a return to the outside world. Pale, mist-shrouded moonflower and night-blooming cereus, a veil of vanilla-tinged lace and linen, smoky, singed violets, and the eerie crimson gleam of dragon’s blood resin.

Hynyssea Blackmoon - Brought into existence by Zarayna, she has no memory of the life led by the previous mind inhabiting her body. A fragment of Zarayna’s soul combined with the base personality half-preserved by previously comatose and memory-erased neurons, but her predilection for Shadow magics seems natural to the body itself. A lush, exotic blend of red roses and black jasmine, nutmeg, cardamom-infused coffee, cocoa liqueur, pipe tobacco, black amber, and aged patchouli.

Aurelis Duskflame - The wild Huntress sunbathed nude atop the rocks rimming a woodland pond, civilization only distant echoes on the gentle breeze that shivered the leaves of the trees above. Coffee freckles on smooth, rich caramel, teak and ebony wood, aged patchouli, soft brown leather, fuzzy brown musk, and dry bone, and the scent of an ancient forest of pine, oak, birch, and wildflowers wafting upon a warm breeze.

Saleirin - He claimed to be a pirate, but the only thing more obnoxious than his obvious tall-tale-telling was his carrot-orange hair. They thought he was a he, anyway, but it was hard to be entirely certain if he was a handsome woman or a pretty man. He might have been genuinely charming, if he wasn’t mouthy-drunk. Bright saffron and mandarin orange, cassia, and red musk, deceptively smooth tonka, red leather, flashes of precious metals, and a charmingly obnoxious shot of bay rum.

Kaiar Ashwind - A broken man, down on his luck, with only fragments of memories of a haunted past that had begun to etch itself into lines on his handsome, tired face. Smoky whiskey and dark beer, cold black coffee dregs, sweet tobacco, clove, grey amber, worn black leather, the memory of polished gold, and blood musk.

Halindis Riftstrider - Once a talented caster, now a talented Demon Hunter. He consumed a succubus, among other things. None of them were ugly demons, because why sacrifice form for function when you can have both? A lilac fougere over black amber, burgundy musk, and red velvet cake.

Islaen - The mysterious, gentle spiritualist and scholar never stayed in one place for too long. His sinister robes and shy mannerisms kept most outsiders from approaching him, though he didn’t mind answering their questions when they gathered enough courage to ask them. Curls of purple incense smoke, a cup of lavender green tea, and soft wisteria flowers blooming under a night sky of indigo musk.

Andrisia Blazewind - A fiery redheaded Mage, her ongoing battle with depression and alcoholism has taken a toll on her once-promising research and development into magical crystalline technology and weaponry. Fiery clove and cinnamon, saffron, creamy vanilla, and red wine over a base of fireplace ash and charred mahogany.

Veshai - This Draenei has long wanted to teach the Azerothian natives of the magical healing properties of their elemental waters, but often finds herself sitting in solitude at the edges of the Stormwind canals. Cool, pure water, a splash of salty sea spray, hyacinth blossoms, ambergris, and crystalline blue musk.

Kiréa - Her engineering accomplishments--including acting as the Warp-Engineer for various Draenic ships--and razor-sharp accuracy with projectile weapons are often lost in translation, due to her thick accent and imperfect grasp of the colloquialisms and dialectical nuances of spoken Common. Gunpowder and magically-charged ozone, oil-spotted leather, blueberry musk, and a comically out of place whiff of Fizzy Faire Drink (cola).

Yaaru - Rendered psychologically unstable by the disaster that killed most of her fellow Auchenai, this odd Draenei relies on her lover, Kiréa, to provide stability in this strange, alien world. A puff of white snow, luminous white musk, smooth coconut and vanilla, and a wide-eyed shock of blueberry-tinged mint.

Elechia Sin’alar - Beautiful, statuesque, and stoic, this man strives to be a picture-perfect and just-hearted Champion of the Argent Crusade. Soothing myrrh and clove streaked with rich amber and copal, white-hot steel, and the righteous fury of spicy dragon’s blood and smoldering ashes.

Lydal Omarus - Cultured and poised at first glance, he is a vicious and skilled martial artist, having learned and honed his own personal fighting style over many decades. He will rarely start a fight without good reason, preferring to act with overt violence only when retreat or diplomacy are impossible. White leather and oudh, white tobacco, smooth black musk, sugared black tea, and a fading bruise of plum with a droplet of bloody red musk.

Avarinde Mournglory - Bloodmage-turned-librarian-turned-Bloodmage, the power that once nearly destroyed her crackles once again at her fingertips. She pours into it all the destructive fury left behind by a decade of mis-shelved and missing books, loudly-chattering students, and the irritating new invention they call ‘bubble gum’. Earl Grey tea, vanilla musk, dry cedar, benzoin, powerful lime and scorched clove, and a tiny vial of anise-dark venous blood.

Aristolochia Fal’anare - Cute, classy, and calculating. Born into nobility, she takes the family business very seriously, and isn’t opposed to a bit of stealthy corporate espionage when the situation calls for it. Cheery, playful honeymint tea with sugar and cream, gingerbread cookies, and a whisper of form-fitting black leather.

Laurian Fireflower - Being permanently stuck in Elven form doesn’t seem to bother this former Bronze drake, who has developed a taste for the finer things in life. Hot, dusty desert sand and red amber, a gentle breeze of saffron, long strands of cool, creamy vanilla, a glass of white wine, and rich, warm, honeyed spice cake.

Shaurindris Ravensfeather - An ancient denizen of Val’sharah, once a Priestess of Elune and now a Druid of Cenarius. This Kaldorei is more mellow and lazily-curious than many of her Kalimdor-inhabiting kin, but shares deeply in the desire to protect the forests in which their people dwell. Carnation-pink skin, watery hyacinths, and night-blooming jasmine dot the earthy patchouli and green grasses of the fern-covered forest floor, while magnificent fir, pine, ash, elm, and oak trees tower overhead.

#character development #perfume #bpal #inspired by #Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab #World of Warcraft #Wyrmrest Accord

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