#torment the librarian some more for the people
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Heya!
@bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan
I've got another life update for everyone. Per suggestions, I was able to ask the Ultramarine how I should dress when meeting with the person in charge, and dressed accordingly, which was semi-formal. I had to run out real quick to get an appropriate pair of dress shoes before the meeting, but I managed alright.
I was rather surprised that Stalker did, in fact, show up to the meeting, but it'd definitely possible that they contacted him via Mysterious Astartes Methods. He accused me of a number of things, and here are the list of "charges"
1) aiding and abetting a "Fallen" Dark Angel
2) refusing to allow an Interrogator Chaplain to complete his sanctioned duties
3) defacing astartes armor (Jerk is still covered in glitter. I have the paint and glitter bombs on my person right now in case be pulls some more nonsense)
4) Colluding willingly with an Alpha Legionnaire to torment a Loyal Astartes
5) Distracting A Dark Angel during the course of his duties.
Now, I'm no law expert, but I figured he might pull some letitigous bullshit and have been doing some research on my own. I wasn't entirely sure what the Ultramarine Base Commander was going to say in response, but I pointed out that;
1) In the country that I am living in and so are they, the lawful government does not, to my knowledge, recognize the authority of Astartes Chaplains when it comes to crimes accused or actual committed by an astartes BEFORE THEY CAME TO EARTH
2) they did not involve local law enforcement before attempting to take the Fallen in question who has been the primary caretaker for a chronically ill and weakened human in good faith for the better part of a decade. I also got statements from both the human and their neighbors about the character of the Fallen and his daily activities, as well as from my patient's family
3) he has been harassing and willfully intimidating me with the intent to scare - which are both actual crimes - for over two months now. I have been keeping as accurate an account of each instance and brought a copy of that journal with me to the meeting (I have several copies of all the information I brought with me, in case Jerk tries anything. I also left this Intel with both Fallen and the Alpharii) for the base commander or whoever to read through at their convenience.
4) talking with other people who he's also deliberately antagonizing to try and get him to stop is not a crime, and the Alpha Legionnaire (I did not reveal that I know for a fact there are at least three of them in that house - more about the third Alpharius later) is concerned for the long term effects the stress of Jerk tormenting me will have on the care I'm able to provide to his sickly patient, and had suggestions on how to get Jerk to back off when I asked for them.
5) I JUST WANT HIM TO LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE AND STOP HARASSING FAMILY OF MY PATIENTS! JUST FUCK OFF!
Noooot that I deliberately cursed Jerk in front of the base commander. I almost cussed him out several times though. The giant fucker is tapdancing on my last nerve.
The base commander was quiet and seemed thoughtful at the gathered evidence I had provided for him. He began talking in a language I don't understand, and Jerk periodically answered back. He started getting agitated the longer the Mystery Talk went on.
A half hour of conversation I did not understand later and the base commander said that he was going to be restricting Ghaliel (Jerk's Actual Name, apparently) to base for the next month, and to report him if he breaks his restriction.
That was two days ago. So far, Jerk hasn't been trying to scare me... I was also able to speak with one of the Librarians after the meeting with the base commander.
Apparently, I have a weak bond with an astartes. I really hope it's with one of the Alpharii. They're fun, playful and caring.
Oh right! The third Alpharius!
I happened to stumble across all three of them whispering to each other, the day before I was gonna meet with the base commander, during my shift with their human family member. I'm pretty sure they did that on purpose, as alpharius number 3 handed me the last of the character testimonies I was hoping to get for Fallen in exchange for two glitter-paint bombs.
I don't want to k ow what he plans on doing with them, his cackling was terrifying.
#stalker the jerk#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#warhammer 40k#alpha legion#dark angels 40k#pen-thief alpharius
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cleric n fighter for the asks?
OOooohhh gonna do two posts for this because my extra ass is gonna look into magic items for cleric real quick, but let's do fighter for now!
fighter - npc you think deserves more screen time?
Give the people what they NEED and what they NEED is Yulaquarei I think this poor librarian. Literal waves in their eyes like let's be real here. Plus a triton? I know these fuckers should be going wild for this.
#rent is due#gillion tidestrider btw#if you even care#torment the librarian some more for the people#also throwback to seth looking up what dark magic was about early in the campaign honestly studious king
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Unwanted Soul _ Part 5 = Requested
[Yandere!Alastor x Owner of his Soul!Reader]
The Request
Part 1 — Part 2 — Part 2.5 (ask) — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 (here)
How you had such a depressing life was beyond Alastor. He didn’t understand it. Can’t comprehend it! But he pushed these questions back to tend to your sadden mood, tucking you in and lulling you to sleep
Alastor sat next to your sleeping form, the room pitch black save for his glowing red eyes that pierced through the darkness. His staff played soft music to calm you down and fill the silence of the room. The only tears you should be shredding are ones of joy and happiness
The people you’ve mentioned, surely they were in Hell as well. They can’t be in Heaven for causing you such torment. He can’t let you see them, any of them. He needs to get to them first. However, for now, he can’t leave you alone in such a state
His eyes closed as he thought out how he’d torture them. Perhaps skinning them till they beg for mercy and your forgiveness? Pulling out their limbs and draining their blood? Letting the cannibals partake in a feast? No, no, he had to enjoy this. They were your tormentors when you were alive, he’ll show you that he can and will be your protector, even a guarddog if he must
But his heinous thoughts were put to a hold when you shifted in your sleep. He pushed away his thoughts while he watched your serene form rest. He put away his monocle, laying beside you and gently pull you closer to him so he was hugging you to his chest. His eyes drooped close. Perhaps he should let those unfortunate souls enjoy Hell a bit longer. If they crossed his path or yours, their voice will be on his everlasting broadcast
When things got slow for you, you found yourself hanging out with the hotel residents at times. They were an interesting bunch to say the least
Charlie was always happy to see you and would invite you on her little activities and exercises to redeem sinners. Though you’d mostly decline unless it catches your interest in some way. On the rare chance you join, she was very appreciative of your presence and wasn’t shy to thank you for joining in front of everyone. Her cheerful attitude was a bit of a hit and miss for you
There was one exercise that got you sharing something you’ve almost forgot
“Okay! Last two to share! Who’s going first?” Charlie beamed
“I’ll go first, My Darling needs all the time to recall!” Alastor directed the attention to him. “My joy in my hay day is my murders. Oh how I felt the rush when chasing my victims, hunting them like prey in the woods. The warmth of their body fading the moment I repeated stabbed my trusty blade into their weak bodies. The—”
“Okay, okay, you can shut it with the creepy killing. Sheesh.” Vaggie interrupted with a groan. She turned to you who was still in a daze, completely unfazed with what Alastor said. “You ready to go?”
“Huh? Oh, okay.” You snapped out of your daydream, unconsciously, your hand patted on your book that was strapped to your hip. “My joy when I was alive… I barely remember it, but I loved going to the library and read all the books I can.”
“That’s surprisingly cute considering you’re with that freaky smil—” Angel’s mouth was immediately shut with the slap of Alastor’s staff
You continued without flinching, this was all a normal banter between the two already now that you were hanging out with the crew more. “I frequent the library, borrowing and finishing a stack of books everyday. The librarian would recommend me new books or save me my favourite corner. I can even eat and drink in the library just because.”
Charlie’s head tilted, “So you love reading.”
“Not just reading. I love books of all kinds. Sometimes I rad that book just cause I liked the texture or the shape of it. I collect books and keep it like treasures. I hate lending books to other because they don’t care for it like I do.” You fondly smiled at the memory, “Then I got a bunch of notebooks too, because I love the design or the cover.”
Lucifer leaned back into his chair, “No wonder your powers are centered around books.”
“Better call you bookworm now! Hahahaa—” Angel was hit by two cranes, one from Alastor and another from Lucifer. Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk flinched with a face twisted to pain as if they felt that. Niffty was living in the moment, wanting one too
Husk gulped some alcohol, “You better shut that loud mouth of yours if you know what’s good for you.”
Everyone laughed and chuckled, Charlie concluding that it was a good exercise and bonding time since everyone was in attendance. Alastor got up and offered you his hand, bringing you two back to your room. You stayed out of it, being in a daze again
When Alastor asked if you were fine, you smiled and said you were fine, if you needed anything, he would be the first you’d call for. So he left you alone
You didn’t tell them. You were that absorbed into reading that you didn’t realize you were being bullied, you were used. You shared your dream of wanting to be a writer that people would love to read what you wrote and share it with friends, to entertain others. You shared your ideas with your friend but your ideas were stolen from you
The moment you handed in your writing, the publishing company said they had one already and that yours was not up-to-date. They rejected your writing. Days later, you saw the newest novel on sell. The title was so similar to yours that you checked the summary at the back. That was your story idea. But your work was rejected so how was it published?
Your nightmare came to life. A betrayal so painful and chilling. Your friend’s name was on the cover. You remember your hands shaking. It wasn’t rage you felt, it was disbelief and sadness. The trust you gave, the care you gave, and the attention you gave. It was all to stab you in the back
You watched from behind the screens at the achievement and success that should have been yours. All of it, it should have been yours to smile upon. But then you were crying and shutting yourself behind the world of fantasy, an escape from reality
Why? Why? Why!
Closing your eyes for a moment, you locked up those memories. They don’t mean much to you now. Not when you had Alastor with you and an unlikely friendship with Lucifer the King of Hell himself, then there was the silly demons of this hotel. Ironic how you found true friends in demons
That’s why when you saw Mimzy again in the hotel, you were skeptical and burning with rage. She had someone as amazing and caring as Alastor to call as a friend, but she’s abusing it without a care. How she has the guts to come back and ask for Alastor, you have no idea, though you’ve seen her kind when you were alive
“You’re a new soul!” Mimzy’s voice made you want to throw glass or grip something until it broke. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”
“What do you want?” You eyed down at Mimzy with a bored expression
She let out a sound akin to ‘uww’ with a face of disgust. “You’re never gonna get your lucky someone with that attitude.”
Your eye twitched, “I never said I was.”
Mimzy gave you a fake shocked look, “Really? I thought you were going for Alastor!”
You groaned, heading over to the bar to ask Husk for something to drink (not alcohol) because you didn’t want this annoyance to follow you to your room
“Hey,” Mimzy sat next to you without asking, “You know what Alastor’s like when he’s upstairs?”
You ignored her, but your face of silent rage was enough to get her to continue
“You don’t know. He’s a realy lady’s killer! Not literally, but you get what I mean. Girls and ladies throw themselves at him and he doesn’t even bat them an eye. A nice wave and a dashing smile, then he leaves them high and dry! Oh, the broken hearts he had was definitely more than his body count and that’s something!” Mimzy laughed at the end
What’s that got to do with you? You thought to yourself as you aggressive sipped on your drink. Husk eyed you two while cleaning some glass to appear like he was busy. You’ll maybe admit, you were a bit envious of Mimzy that she got to see Alastor when he was alive, you wonder how he looked. Not like you were going to ask
Mimzy endlessly talked bad about Alastor behind his back. What happened to trying to apologise and wanting to make up? No idea, down the drain at this point. As the others around you wonder why you were still humouring the chatty demon, you were wondering the same. Why are you just sitting here and listening to all this?
“You should shut it, can’t you see you’re the only one talking here?” Husk spoke up, indirectly telling Mimzy to just leave you alone
“Aww, and you should do your job, bar cat.” Mimzy teased back. “I’m given this poor soul some attention cause Alastor’s too high of a standard to give some.”
“Ha! Jokes on you. This hot stu— I mean, cutie here’s always got smile’s attention.” Angel inserted himself into the conversation, climbing over the bar to stand next to Husk
You got up, “This is a waste of time.”
Mimzy faked another gasp, “No way. You poor poor thing. You actually fell for him of all people of this hellhole?” She got so close in your face and not to mention your personal space, “I understand why, but! Ha! That’s just bad luck! You’re bound to get your heart broken like all those poor ladies before you.”
Before you said anything, Husk’s wing separated Mimzy from you, “You really need to shut the hell up before you regret it.”
“You shut it fur ball! I ain’t talkin’ to you.” Mimzy snapped at Husk
Deciding that it was not worth your time, you started walking away. This was drama you didn’t want to be involved in and you didn’t want Alastor catching this happening since he sees Mimzy as a friend still
“The hotel won’t allow this.” Charlie tried to establish order and break things off
“Alastor will leave you in the dirt worse than whatever you were before once he’s had his fun with you! You might think you’re on cloud 9 now, but you’re going to be in a world of pain and hurt soon enough.” Mimzy continued, completely ignoring Charlie and Husk’s words
With each step you took, she continued as if singing a song, “Alastor only like things that entertains him. He never commits. He never cares. He doesn’t even have a heart to care! He’s so powerful because he has no room for ridicious things like love. The love he has is only for himself. Alastor is just a selfish heartless motherf—”
“Shut up!” You turned to her, a deep scowl on your face
“This is gonna be good.” Lucifer whispered to the others watching, “But bad for her. Yeah.”
“Shut you annoying f- mouth.” You snapped, unaware that your hair leviated a bit from your rage. “You don’t know how lucky you are to have a friend like Alastor. Alive and dead. But what do you do? You use Alastor’s name just for the fun of it and for your benefit. You just use it! How can you use your friendship with him like this! What’s wrong with your stupid tiny head?! In Hell, you’re supposed to treasure what you have. Not abuse it.”
Mimzy scoffed, “You think you’re so good? So righteous. Well, you would have been up there, now wouldn’t you. Don’t think you’re any better.” She smirked, “In Hell, we use everything and anything to our advantage.” Another gasp came and she covered her mouth, “Oh wait, could it be?” She got close to you, “Haha, you being so defensive and triggered by all this. You really actually did fall for him.”
“I love him.”
“Wait? Couldn’t hear you, sugar—”
“I love Alastor.” You repeated firmly and loudly
“What was that?”
Getting annoyed, you turned to the direction where the question came from. Perhaps it was all this anger in your system that made you slow to realize, “I said,” That you were now face to face with Alastor. “I love you!”
Note: This part's major focus has been mentioned in an ask already. And since it's confirmed that you and Alastor are dating in the latest asks and requests, I'm putting this scene in more detail since asks are trivia for the story
P.S. There's something new planned for future chapters~ Remember that lover and friend mentioned? OCs might be appearing cause I can't do rando short forms. Still thinking... You're thoughts? Or should I just end this series?
Circe Y.
Other Works: MASTERLIST
Taglist:
@aconfusedwonderland
@crowleysthings
@donustellaron
@mistpurpl3
@nevermore-ramblings
@justboredforreal
@youroneandonlysimp
@falsemain
@scenteddelusion5
@anni1600
@readergirlstuff
@salutations-demonsanddappers
@mistpurpl3
@haruskrd
@biadoll21
@speedycoffeedelight
@wendds
@paninibit
#Circe's Nighty Writings#Circe's requested writings#alastor imagine#alastor x reader#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor#hazbin hotel oneshots#yandere alastor#yandere alastor x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel imagines#Unwanted Soul
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So, I changed the pictures a little. They look better now.
Still my Hank the Librarian AU.
Suppose he was tired of working in the police even before the revolution and decided to quit, retrained and became a librarian. He knows about the events of the revolution only from Fowler's stories and from the news on TV.
By this time it is already spring of 2039, Hank has healed a little, although he is still tormented by nightmares and drinks from time to time but not as often as before. He sometimes still helps Fowler at the DPD, advising newcomers or when some difficult cases come across and the advice of an experienced cop is needed, but overall Hank is almost happy with his life, and then Connor comes to the library.
(this could be a human AU too with a similar plot, in which Connor is either a student studying criminology, or a journalist, or someone else who just loves to read).
Why does Connor, if he is an android, need a library, if he is an android and can find any information in a matter of seconds in his head? I think that after the revolution he now more or less has his own life, but sometimes he likes to go to such places, and not all books can be found on the Internet. He likes to walk among the shelves and compare editions of books that are in the library with those that he finds on the Internet. He often comes to the library late in the evening, at closing time, when there are not so many people and he can sit with a book in his corner for several hours, enjoying the silence, broken only by the rustling of the pages.
And then he notices Hank. And he falls in love at first sight, realizing that this man is the one he had all chances to work during the revolution, even when he was a Cyberlife android, but this man had quit just a few months before it began.
He studies all the available information about Hank, talks with him in the library, and realizes that he was not mistaken in his choice: Hank is a wonderful person. That’s why Connor regrets that they didn’t meet earlier, but he doesn’t get upset and, a couple of days after they met, he invites Hank on a date.
#detroit: become human#dbh rk800#hank anderson#dbh connor#dbh#connor x hank#dbh hank#hankcon#detroitbecomehuman#detroit become human#rk800connor#connor rk800#rk800#conhank#hannor#connorhank#hank x connor#true love#au#hank is the definition of perfection
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Circus Freaks
LA Buggy x Fem Reader
Young reader (20’s), slight nsfw, dark themes (small mention of suicide)
Previous Chapters- Part 1, Part 3
Next Chapter- Part 5
Previously: In attempt to retrieve the lost necklace, y/n accidentally eavesdrops on the Buggy Pirates’ master plan. Not wanting to kill the woman, Buggy decides to use her in his scheme. He admits his attraction to y/n, but does not trust her. The misunderstanding causes a tension between the two.
Part 4: The Missing Details
A couple of days passed by after the "deal" with Buggy. Her family noticed a change in her behavior. Y/n was always reserved, but not like this. It's like she's hiding something. The last few days would consist of a new routine: waking up in the morning to eat a quick breakfast, leave the house to return at dusk, and spending the rest of the day enclosed in her room.
Every time her parents or sister asked where'd she go, she simply said something along the lines of "research."
They knew she's always been a strange girl. Since she was introduced into their family, death called out to her. The Ti's figured it had to do with her biological parents' passing. The young girl would often space out and asked if they could see the person in front of her. Of course, there was nothing there. Mr. and Mrs. Ti excused it as her imagination, but as she aged, it did not stop.
They tried to explain to her that it was all a part of her imagination. There's no person, ghost, or spirit— it does not exist. It was frustrating to the young girl. Her nightmares would consist of vivid images of her mother and father, with tormenting screams of the dead. People in her cohort would accuse her as an attention seeker, but that was not true. She hated that she could see and hear these dead souls, she wished it was all made up.
Shortly, her bullying at school made her distance herself from people, including her adoptive family. Lyla was the only one who tried to understand her, even so she failed. Y/n began to visit her parent's grave. That's when she found out that the spirits could be gentle— only wishing comfort from the living. It dawned her that this was not a curse, but a gift.
She kept this to herself, and this defiance of her gift allowed her to return as a “normal” member of her community. Still, she never forgets those nasty comments and the townspeople continued to avoid her. Depression hit her, the solitude caused her to reject color, seeking safety in the dark. She longed for a colorful world, but those vibrant colors died out a long time ago.
Despite her outcast status, she wished no one harm. The Ti’s treated her well and the pirates’ presence posed harm to the people who raised her. It’s imperative that she follows the captain’s orders. It’s a good thing she’s able to access records; after all, she’s a book worm.
The time she spent alone focused on literature. Books allowed her to escape reality. She would spend hours reading under an oak tree or in the town hall’s library. Each book opens a world of imagination, knowledge, and expression. She would read the vast information about the islands of the four seas. Each more unique than the last. Y/n wondered about the possibilities, could she explore the world? That thought was pushed away, her future is sealed on this island.
Page after page, she spent the last few days reading any piece of information about the island’s political figures. The time is ticking and she’s not able to find anything. The town’s records are kept in a back room of the library, the librarian has granted her a key to it. Criminal records, birth and death certificates are some archives stored in the locked room.
Y/n searched, but most of the documents contained information of past generations. In defeat, she returned back home empty handed. It’s later than usual, her parents have gone to bed already. She made her way through the dark kitchen and went straight to the bedroom. The bed awaits her as she plops face down on it.
“You’re back. Took you long enough.”
She quickly rolls over at the sound of the voice. A figure comes out of the bathroom, there’s no light to see it. The ominous person flicks the bathroom light on. It’s Buggy, he leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. His gaze let a look of boredom.
She sat up at his unexpected arrival, gripping at her bedsheets. “How did you get in my house?”
A sly smirk accompanied with a light chuckle were let out. He walks away from the bathroom entrance and starts to look around her room. Frames of floral skeletons along with other gothic decor fill the room. The elegant bed frame adds a vampy look.
“Huh, are you a vampire?” he scoffs.
“No and you ignored my question.” It’s rare that someone mentions vampire, people are quick to call her a witch. Buggy’s eyes continue to observe the room, it’s very different to what he’s used to. “Hello, are you going to answer me?”
The pirate turns to look at the woman. His eyes landed at the only vibrant item in the room. Without giving it a second thought, he reached behind her and grabs the object.
“Hey! Give that back!”
He looked at the object in his hand, it’s almost a spitting image of himself.
“A clown. . .” he looks back at y/n, who’s clearly agitated.
She jumps at him, trying to snatch the rag doll away from. He raised his left arm up, keeping the doll at a distance she couldn’t reach. His eyebrows furrow at the sudden act of aggression.
“What are you doing with an old crappy doll?” he laughs at her.
“It’s not crappy. Now give it back!”
She managed to get a hold of the doll’s leg, it almost slipped from Buggy’s hand. The two commence in a game of tug of war, each pulling a limb. He grins, enjoying the little game and y/n pulls in desperation. A ripping sound came from the doll before y/n fell back with it. A good chunk of its side tore off, leaving its stuffing all over the floor.
Tears flow down her cheek as she held the rag doll in disbelief. It’s bemusing to the pirate, to see a young woman cry over a dusty doll. He holds the other portion of the torn clown and throws it at her.
“Why are you crying? It’s just a doll.”
It’s now two things he’s taken from her. Both sentimental gifts from her dead parents. She looks at the doll and back at Buggy. The real version is vastly different.
“I thought clowns were supposed to be fun. . .” she sobs, hugging what remained.
He walks up to her and crouched to her eye level. “I hate to break your fantasy, but I’m a pirate before I am a clown,”— he grips her jaw— “I am not your pathetic little doll.”
“I hate you,” she spat out with despise.
His grip becomes tighter on her face, tears drip down from his glove. He’s used to hearing those words, but it’s different this time. The woman who looked at him with adoration is gone. He hastily let's go of her jaw and stands over her.
“I don’t care if you hate me. You’re just a pawn in my plan,” he masked his true emotions. It bothered him that his visit did not work to his favor, but his treasure comes first.
“I gave you time to seek intel and I do hope you found something.”
She wipes the tears off her cheeks and began to pick up the stuffing off the floor. Buggy clenched his jaw in annoyance. He stomps on the remains to gain her attention. Out of spite she ignores him, not daring to look up. He absolutely hated being ignored, his hand grabs a fistful of her hair. She yelps at the pain.
He taunts her, pulling her hair with slight force, "Oh y/n, don't play me as a fool."
Buggy's gaze darkens, staring into her redden eyes. "Remember our terms, if you don't give me what I want, I will hurt those you love the most."
"You're a despicable mother fucker," she spits at him.
Fueled by rage, he takes out a blade, but the sound of footsteps approached the room. He grabs y/n and shoves her in the bathroom, closing the door.
"Y/n dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Ti asked, opening the bedroom door.
Buggy shows off his blade and tilts his head in amusement, waiting for her response. She sniffs and speaks, "I-I'm okay. . . I just knocked something over in the bathroom."
"Be careful dear, we don't want you drowning in the bathtub," she jokingly laughs.
"Ha ha. . . yeah I don't want to drown either. . ." she cringes at her statement.
"Well goodnight, if you want to talk about something, you know I'm here for you."
"Okay, goodnight."
The door closes and the woman leaves. Silence fills the room, Buggy leans on the sink. "Damn, even the bathroom is dark. Where are the colors in this shitty place?"
Y/n rolls her eyes. “I like darker colors. It’s comfy if it makes sense. . .”
“That’s depressing, but let’s get back to business,”— he holds her wrist with great force— “that was bold of you, I’ll let that sign of disrespect slide.”
“Ow, let go!” she tries to budge out his grip.
“Do you or do you not have information?”
She stayed silent.
“Answer me!”
“No!”
He lets go of her wrist. “You must know something. That Yasi kid clearly has eyes for you and to have someone that important after you is a detail I can’t ignore.”
“Look you stupid clown, I know nothing. Yasi just happens to like me.”
“Tsk, my men tell me you spent your days at the town hall. Clearly there’s a reason why you’re able to be there all day.”
Y/n pulls a key out her pocket and throws at him.
“This is the key to the town’s personal archives. I couldn’t find anything on these people. I don’t know what you’re looking for, so do it yourself.”
Buggy picked up the key and glanced at her. “Yeah right, you’re coming with me.”
“Huh? Why?”
He grabs her by the waist and forces her out the bathroom. She stumbles and falls to the floor. “Can you be gentler?” she groans.
“If you would oblige, maybe I would be.”
Y/n stays on the cold floor, throwing a tantrum like a toddler. She would not make it easy for him. He throws her body over his shoulder; her weight is nothing to him.
“I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”
She hits and punches his back. “Let me down!”
“I would stop if I were you, or do you want your mother to meet my blade?” he teased.
He felt her tense at the threat and chuckles at her defeat. He made his way to the window, the same entrance he used to get in. It surprised him that it wasn’t locked either way he would’ve smashed the glass.
The pirate is careful not to harm the woman any further. The drop out the window imposes no risk; he can easily step out. The cold breeze hits them, making y/n shiver.
“I would give you my coat, but you’ve been a bad girl tonight."
A small pat to y/n's thigh triggers another outburst.
"You can't treat me like this, I'm not a little girl!"
Buggy rolls his eyes. "You act like one, so you'll be treated as one." He proceeds his exit, pinching her thigh at every resistance.
It will be a long night for the two.
.°˖✧.°˖✧
The walk to the town hall is longer than anticipated, the pirate stayed close to the shadows. The cold wind made it unbearable, and he had no choice, but to give in. Buggy had switched y/n’s position. He held her with both arms as she wrapped herself around his neck. Y/n was hesitant at first, she wanted no contact with the man, but his warmth was tempting. In the end, she allowed herself to be swaddled in his coat.
Once they reached town hall, y/n guides him to the back entrance and enter their location. The library is dark, it’s an old building and the electricity is faulty. Lanterns illuminate the vicinity, giving an eerie atmosphere. Shadows of red light cover the never-ending bookshelves. The flames flicker with might, adding movement to the area.
“Why am I not surprised. This totally fits your theme.”
She ignores the comment and takes in the slight heat from the nearby lanterns. The sensation is blissful, her body pressed against Buggy’s. It made her drowsy, taking in the coziness of his embrace. The moment ended shortly, she snaps out of her trance, remembering what he did earlier.
“Let me down.”
He hesitates, he too enjoyed the sweet hold. Disregarding the tension, she nudges the pirate to the back of the library. The place smelled of dust, a small whiff would be enough to make one sneeze. The aroma of aged paper disguised it slightly. Buggy's eyes trail to the ceiling, stacks of books and the tall shelves were overwhelming.
He stops his tracks. "I'm starting to think that this is a trap." Y/n turns to look at him and scoffs at the accusation. "What makes you think that?"
Buggy glares at her, crossing his arms. "Are you telling me that you couldn't find a single piece of information on these bastards? Come on, this place is jacked with books."
"Wow, you really are a stupid clown."
A pair of hands gripped the collar of y/n's shirt, yanking her towards the pirate. His nose barely touched hers, she felt his hot breath blow down her neck. The anger is visible in his beaming eyes. "I'm done with the name-calling."
"You should know that libraries don't publicly display personal records of civilians," she remarked as she pushed his hands off her stretched shirt.
He stayed silent.
"The room is right in front us. . . you'll see that I'm not lying to you."
Obliging, he follows behind the woman. She pulls out the copper key from her pocket and unlocks the black door. The tiny room is the only area to have functional lights, she walks inside and turns on the switch. She points at one of the bookshelves. "That one carries recent records. Suit yourself to them, I had no luck finding anything."
Each collection he read contained nothing. Y/n watched him desperately flip through each book, making Buggy rage inside. He hated being wrong and having the woman next to him smile at this, made it embarrassing.
He slams his fists at the nearby desk, making y/n flinch. Buggy throws the books the ground. This was supposed to be the break in the mystery. His crew is stuck, the location of the treasure is nowhere to be found. All of his time on the worthless island would be for nothing.
“I didn’t want to mention this to you, but you have to know something.”
Perplexed by this, she furrowed her eyebrows. The sudden desperation in his voice intrigued her.
“I assume you must know about this island’s treasure.”
She nodded. “Of course, everyone does. The founder, Kisha Febe, hid a great item long ago. No one has a clue to where it might be, to us it’s a myth.”
“It’s not a myth,”— he pulled a scroll out his coat— “this map came from a reliable source of mine. I know for a fact it’s real.”
“If you have the map, why do you need me or anything on the Abask’s?”
He hands the worn-down map to her. “There’s no ‘X’ or marking on it.”
The map outlines the small island. It seems to contain the old geography based on the landmarks. Smudges and scribbles obscure potential hints. Words cover the margins of the paper; the incoherent phrases made it confusing. Her eyes skimmed to the corner of the map, in small faint letters, “Abask,” is written.
“Abask? How can that be?”
Her thoughts were paused as the lights flicker. The light bulb goes out, leaving them in complete darkness. Y/n goes to open the door to get a lantern, but her foot trips on a loosen board. Buggy catches her from her fall. She gets up and hurries to retrieve the light source.
The light illuminates the room once more and in the middle of the room, a hidden space is revealed.
“There’s something inside.”
She gets on her knees and takes the board off the floor. Inside the space laid a stack of documents and reports. She pulls them out and hands a stack to Buggy. A file catches her eye— a death report. Y/n examines it and to her disbelief, a familiar name is written on it.
It’s her father’s, Zimik.
Her hands tremble, clenching the sides of the paper. The shaking made it impossible to read, she recomposed herself and noticed something odd. His last name is scratched off. Her parents never married, and she kept her mother's name. She hoped to finally uncover his name as no seemed to mention it to her. Now it makes her question it.
Y/n continues to skim the report, more and more questions filled her mind. White outs and corrections cover the whole paper. Most importantly, his cause of death is the most peculiar. The line is covered in a cheap white paint and over it spells the word, suicide.
This information is not new to her, but something made her feel uneasy. Down at the authorization signature, signed Dr. Hans, the Abask’s personal physician.
Buggy could sense a change in her demeanor. Her skin turned pale as her breathing became unstable.
“Is something wrong?”
Y/n handed the paper to Buggy, who looked at it in confusion.
“It’s my father’s death report. . .”
His eyes widen at the revelation. “Why was it hidden? You can’t tell me that’s not suspicious.”
“The doctor. . . he works for the Abask family.”
The two did not utter another word. It's clear to them that they share a common interest. An idea popped in Buggy's head, y/n has knowledge about the island's lore, her research skills will come in handy.
"I might've been wrong about you." He sets the sheet on the desk and bends down to meet her gaze. Y/n, still in a state of dismay, avoids contact with the pirate. "Come on, let's work together." His gloved hand reaches out, she looks at it and back at him. Buggy has done an awful deed to her, his switch up is only for convenience.
"Whether you like it or not, the Abask is the root of our problems. I need you as much as you need me."
The man is convincing, she takes a deep breath weighing the options. Yasi's father is a powerful person, he's always scared her. After her parent's passing, Mr. Abask's eyes would pinpoint in her direction. Could it tie to this hidden report? Either way, it is near impossible to infiltrate in their manor. Man-muscle is necessary, and Buggy the solution.
Their hands meet, signaling a mutual agreement between them. There's a change in his face, it is softer.
"We're heading to my tent, there's more to discuss on the matter."
"What, now? It's late and I have to head back home."
He scoffs, "How old are you again? Don't tell me you still have a curfew."
"I don't want my parents to worry about me."
This detail confused him. Parents, with an 'S.'
"Is your father not dead?"
"Oh, I'm adopted. . . my biological parents are both dead."
The atmosphere turns awkward. "Well, the more you know," he breaks the silence.
"Please, what do I say to them?" she says, putting the board back in place.
"Just tell them geezers to mind their own damn business."
"Like you're not one," she mutters, taking the stack of documents with her.
Offended, he gasps, "I heard that puny prick!"
A small laughter comes out y/n's mouth, the first positive emotion towards the pirate. The sweet melody rings through his ears. Nothing brings him more delight than the sound of laughter. Being a clown has its perks and he plays the role well. His hand grips his scarf, thinking about the necklace. He's a fool indeed, to take a piece that belonged to her father. Buggy is about to mention it but decides not to. It's the only thing keeping her under his command.
There's an ill connection between them and he's willing to start from ground zero. He clutches the scarf one last time and continues to take lead out the run-down library. They step out to the chilly weather, the air freezing their exposed skin. Y/n feels his hand on her waist, this time she does not resist his touch. Buggy reels her in and uses his coat to shield the cool winds blowing their way.
.°˖✧.°˖✧
The large tent beholds their view. A sense of worry crosses y/n's mind, last visit to the circus grounds did not end well. She's afraid of Buggy. His character changes drastically, he’s a wild card to say the least. It's too late to leave and most importantly, she wants to investigate the odd report.
They enter inside, the warm moist air hits them. It's a pleasant relief to their skin, despite the humidity. The ring is dark and empty. She pleads to not encounter anyone from his crew, they attacked her the other night. That is quickly jinxed as the lights above were turned on.
"Captain, you're back!"
A furry muscular man appeared out from the backstage. His eyes smile, he's clearly appeased at the arrival of Buggy. That moment ends shortly after seeing y/n. His head turns sideways in confusion. Following behind him is another crewmember— the acrobat. His eyes darken at the sight. Buggy felt y/n tense as her hand gripped his side.
"What's she doing here?" the acrobat states, crossing his arms.
Buggy wraps his arm around her shoulder, slightly leaning against her body. "She will be our guest tonight, so treat her kindly," he voices with a stern tone.
"He's my chief of staff, Cabaji. I know you had a little tumble with him, but that's all in the past."
Cabaji scoffs and blows on his side bangs, looking away in annoyance.
"And this is Mohji, my first mate."
Mohji's attitude is nicer than the acrobat's, his face beams up and gives a little wave. Y/n shyly waves back at the man and avoids further interaction.
"Cabaji and Mohji meet y/n, it will be your duty to make her feel at home."
"Will do captain," Mohji replies and Cabaji only nods.
After the proper introduction, Buggy grabs y/n’s hand and takes her to his quarters. No one wonders the back; the dim lights show the empty space they trail.
He opens the door, allowing his guest to enter first. A bed is situated in the middle of the room. Candles lit the area; the red light beams everywhere it touches. The door closes and Buggy leans his back at the nearby wall.
“You can take a seat on the bed.”
Taking slow steps, she goes near it and sits on the edge. Her hands twine together on her lap. Unaware of what to do, she faces down at the awkwardness. She’s alone in a dim-lit space with a man. A dangerous man, who’s much older than her and knows nothing about. Y/n thinks to herself about the given situation, it does not look good— she’s an idiot.
“I-” Buggy takes a pause, his heart races at the sudden shut of confidence. He groans and palms his face. Taking in consideration that’s she’s not the enemy, a different viewpoint opens— a gushing feeling runs through his blood, the exact sensation when they first met.
The big bad wolf act is completely thrown at the window. He cannot let this advantage be drown by the male instinct inside of him. Sweat forms on his forehead as he tries to find a way to break the silence. He sticks to his objective and blocks the raging hormones running through his vessels.
“There’s a lot we have to consider. Where do we even start?” Uncrossing his arms, he raised them at the question. “Obviously our issues are connected by one thing. The only way to advance is getting inside their manor.”
“How will we do that? The place has a high-level security system guarding the perimeter 24/7.”
“I figured that. So, it occurred to me that you have a vital entryway.”
“No. I know what you’re going to say.”
“Hm, think about it. Do you know how easy it is to infiltrate if they invite you by the front doors?”
“I’m sorry, but I will not submit to Yasi.”
A smile plastered on his face, a little relieved at that comment. “Then what do you suggest we do?”
“Dr. Hans, I want to investigate his office before we plan any further.”
Buggy raises an eyebrow, confused at the proposal. “What’s your motive?”
“I want to rule out something before we get our hands dirty.”
He shrugs, not wanting to debate. “Hm, if you insist.”
“Okay,”—she yawns— “can we continue this another time?”
“Sleepy already?”
She gets up and rubs her eyes. “It’s past my bedtime and I’m ready to sleep in my bed. This night has been. . . exhausting. . .”
“I’m not letting you leave; you will stay here for the night.” He blocks the door and pushes her back to his bed.
“Why?”
“I don’t have much time and I rather get started on this investigation.”
“Alright I get it, but I want to go home.”
Buggy does not want to return y/n. He’s determined to make the woman his, whether she likes it or not.
“I’m not sending you back out there. Besides it’s best that we’re not seen together.”
She groans in defeat, but he’s right. It’s past midnight and lord knows what rumors would spark if they saw her with the pirate.
“Fine, I’ll stay.”
“Good girl.” He pats her head with a grin.
“I’m not a pet,” she mutters. “Say. . . are we sharing the bed? I-I’m not comfortable sleeping in the same room as you. . . no offense.”
Buggy takes a step back and huffs out, “I’m not a perv, geez. But no, I wasn’t planning to.” A little lie, he totally would love to. He then points to an opening at the other side of the room. “There’s a bathroom inside, I’m sure there’s everything you need to freshen up.”
Y/n looks at it, the lack of light made it hard to distinguish how it looked. “There’s no door?”
“There’s a curtain you’ll have to slide.”
“How did you guys manage to place a bathroom?”
“Okay, you’re starting to ask too many questions,” he sighs in annoyance.
“Just go in, I’ll be back to check on you later.” He turns to exit the room and looks back at her one more time. “My men will be keeping guard. I recommend you stay put,” he says turning to knob. The door shuts, leaving y/n alone.
A small huff leaves from her lips. She observes the room, it is filled with clothing and props. Piles of it sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. The only thing free of the mess is the bed, she inspects it closely. It’s a king size bed, extravagant, made fit for a true king. She lays down on the bedding. It’s quite comfortable, the sheets are of silk. A typical cream color, with a pearly shine. Countless pillows board across the frame of the bed. Definitely does not compare to her own.
“I wonder if he stole it,” she thinks to herself. “Of course he did. . .”
She rolls out of the bed and heads to the bathroom. There’s no light switch, she scampers around trying to find a source of light and found a small lamp on the sink’s counter. The place is one would expect of a temporary bathroom, specially built by pirates. She opens the curtain of the poorly constructed shower; the flooring is not dirty. It’s clean enough to use.
It pings her mind that the average pirate does not maintain their hygiene, yet Buggy has a variety of soaps and other essentials. It’s to her luck that the man cares about his image.
“Okay, what am I going to change to afterwards. . .”
Looking around, she opens a small cabinet and found folded clothes. It’s men sizing, but it will do. She grabs a white shirt and briefs, hoping they were clean.
The shower is quick, she did not want Buggy around before she finished. The towel she used is not rough on her skin, it’s fluffy and soft, unlike the one she owned. She understands they steal for a living, but to have luxurious household items, did not occur to her. It’s assumed they only care for precious metal, maybe they’re not so dirty.
After drying her body, curiosity followed, searching around the steamy bathroom. It is no surprise that the sink cabinet is full of cosmetics. Who would have thought Buggy cared so much about his appearance. She does not complain; after all, he has all the supplies she needs. Finishing her nighty routine, she puts on his clothes.
The shirt is rather large and baggy, it hides the briefs underneath. Fresh out the shower, the chill temperature of the room raises goosebumps on her skin. She heads straight to the bed, wrapping herself with the sheets. It’s cold as there’s no thick blanket. Y/n hides her face with the thin blanket, her nose engulfs the lingering scent. It smells like Buggy, it’s comforting. A hint of musk and cologne is enough to spark a lusting attraction towards it. The aromas drowse her, and her eyelids become heavy, slowly giving in to her slumber. It was not long before she lost the battle and peacefully laid in the cozy pillowing that surrounds her.
A couple of hours go by and Buggy returns. He cracks to the door open and peeks inside, she’s sound asleep. He carefully steps in, softly closing the door behind him. The sound of his boots closes in on the bed, creaking the floor below. Buggy sits at the edge, observing her up close.
From the moment he saw her, a new feeling emerged inside of him. Never has he seen someone look at him with such adoration. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a small doll. It’s the clown rag doll, he snuck back in her room and retrieved the broken doll. It’s fixed now, one of his seamstresses patched the torn pieces.
He ruined her fascination about clowns and the guilt is immense. The pirate clutches the doll in his hand, the beady little eyes stare back at him. So small and pathetic— that’s what he called it earlier and he’s right. Even so, he smiles at it. He sits the doll next to her, hoping she’ll forgive him.
As he proceeds to leave, the creaks of the bed awaken y/n.
“Buggy? Is that you?” her groggy voice captures his attention.
She rubs her eyes and flutters them open. That’s when she noticed the doll beside her. Immediately, she comes out the blankets and grabs the doll.
“What?! It’s fixed?” She looked at it in amazement, hugging it dearly. “When did you have time to get it back?”
“I have my ways.”
“Thank you, for a moment I thought you were a terrible person, but I appreciate fixing what you’ve done.”
The pirate knows he is. He continues to be with his selfish acts, keeping her in this place. He could have taken her back, but out of his own greed, he will not. Instead, a created a note to her parents, hoping they’ll believe the message. He wrote that she’ll be at a friend’s house, helping them with a research project.
“It’s the least I could do.”
“I’m glad you got it. I-It helps me sleep. . .” Embarrassed, she hides her face with the doll.
“Ha, you still sleep with a doll? That’s adorable,” he coos.
Y/n face turns bright red. “It eases my nightmares,” she whispers, justifying the act.
“Nightmares?” Intrigued, he brings a chair next to the bed and sits.
“The dreams began after the death of my parents. Since then, I constantly have them.” She looks into the button eyes of the clown. “My mother gave this to me. It helps with the pain.”
Buggy could not describe how he felt at those words. If he did not feel horrible before, it's worse. A true vile monster.
“Do you see them in your sleep?”
She nods. “I rather not talk about the details.”
He respects her choice, but he wonders what grisly images the nightmares cause. “Well, you’ll be able to sleep in peace tonight.”
She hums in response. Not wanting to disturb her anymore, he gets up to leave.
Y/n bites her bottom lip. She did not want to tell him that she wants him to stay. His presence brought tranquility and she’s been craving a stronger whiff of his scent. She’s hesitant, earlier they were fighting and it’s irrational to change minds so quickly. Still, she cannot deny the crush she has on him. He’s shown he’s not a dick. He only did it to protect himself.
She jumps out from the bed and grabs his wrist. Taken aback at the motion, he turns to look at her. He blushes at the exposure of her legs. The thin shirt barely hiding the hard nipples underneath. His eyes avoid further contact at the tempting sight, restricting any thought about the semi-nude woman alone in his room. His body freezes at the sudden blood rush to his lower region. Imagination runs wild, thinking what shape and size hides behind the white cloth.
“I know I said I didn’t want you near me, but I feel safe having you here.”
Buggy does not say a single word.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
He gulps hard. Yes, he did not mind, but it’s too soon to be this intimate. He doesn’t know if he can resist going feral. The last time he was with a woman. . . well it’s been ages, to the point that there’s no memory on the matter. He lies about his status, but in reality, he’s a loser. He regains control and fights to maintain his composure.
“Why would I say no to my dear guest.”
She smiles, only worsening his situation. “You can lay back down. I need to clean myself.” He excused himself and rushed in the bathroom, hoping she did not see his large bulge.
In the shower, he stares at his harden member. He grits his teeth; it’s not going down. The last time he touched himself happened long ago. He did not waste time lusting after women, why bother? No one dared to pay him attention. Now that one did, he completely folded.
His hands wrap around it firmly, he hitched at the touch. He pumps it slow, his thumb adding pressure to the sensitive head. It’s been a while; he almost forgot the feeling. The process was quick, his hot cum splattered on the shower curtain and a wave of shame hit him hard. Such a vulgar deed with a lady waiting for him. He cleans the white mess and finishes his shower.
His long damp hair hangs over his face, he moves it out the way to expose his bare skin. His grease paint is gone, most of it at least. Pigment remains on his skin, it’s never easy to take out. His nose pops out the most, insecurities rush in. He hates how he looks without the makeup. It tied his clown persona together and now he’s just a man with an obnoxious nose.
A hard slap to the face ceases the self-loathing. He took one last look at himself before putting on his sleepwear and barged out the bathroom. Y/n sat on the bed, wrapped around the blankets once again. She glances over at Buggy confused at why he still wore the clown nose.
“It’s real,” he says before she's able to mention it.
The pores on the nose made sense now, it was obvious. She notices a dread look from the man. To be born with a red rounded structure, must be difficult. Y/n is not disgusted by it, but she understands the resentment of the facial feature.
An unprecedented statement comes out her mouth.
“I think it suits you.”
In shock, he furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re lying,” anger in his voice caught y/n off guard. Buggy covers his nose and turns his back at her.
“I mean it.”
"Tsk, you only say that out of pity," he grunts out.
"Your nose is unique. It's cute on you," she giggles, pinching the small red ball on her doll.
Removing his hands off his face, he snaps his head back. "Cute?" Buggy marches to the side of the bed and snatches the doll out of her hand. "How dare you call me cute. Don't compare me to your little toy."
"I'm sorry, I actually find you hot. . ." she mumbles, unaware she said it out loud.
Flustered by her words, a dark shade of red spreads across his face. Y/n covers her mouth, embarrassed at the confession. Buggy gently hands the doll back and sits next to her. "You're not toying with me, are you?"
She shakes her head as she played with her fingers. Buggy palms his face, his hair falling over his shoulders. He sighs and flips the hair out his face. The wet strands hit her. "I didn't know your hair was this long," she says wrapping her finger around a few strands.
"Hm?"
"It's pretty and the color is quite vibrant."
With the corner of his eye, he blushes at her soft smile. The two remain quiet and Buggy decides to lay down, closing his eyelids. Y/n captures his bare face, his appearance is drastically different. His wrinkles are visible, but that does not deduce his attractiveness. Despite the large nose, he looked normal and not the intimidating pirate from before.
She also lays down and looks up at the ceiling. Buggy peaks from one eye, watching her intently. The silence consumes the room. Bothered by it, he decided to speak.
“How old are you anyway?”
“I’m y/a.”
He calculates the age gap and gaps.
“This feels illegal. . ."
She laughs. “Is it that bad? What’s your age?”
“I’m 37.”
“Oh-”
Her heart sinks a little at the number. She scoots back from him; a sick feeling arises from her stomach. She’s sharing a bed with a man that could be her uncle or worse. But she longed for an intimate partner, someone who can take the pain away. Y/n recollects herself and brushes her fingers over his hand.
“I don’t mind. . .”
“What do you want with an old crusty clown like me? I’m hideous. I’m no man worth your time.”
She looked at him with daze. Y/n didn’t know what came hold of her. Lost in the building hormones inside of her, she gave a soft peck on the tip of his nose.
Buggy eyes widen, completely paralyzed at the sensation of her lips.
“Goodnight, Buggy.”
She turns over and hides her crimson face. Buggy appalled by the kiss, grabs his nose. He swallows his saliva and buries himself in the blanket they shared. The two maintained their distance, unsure on what to think about the situation. Buggy groans, hiding his throbbing boner. He tugs on his scalp and turns to sleep in the other direction. A heavy tension fills the atmosphere, lasting hours into the night. Y/n managed to fall asleep as Buggy stayed up, thinking about the loving kiss. Slumber eventually reached him, the sweet touch fading into in his dreams.
A/N: Sorry this took so long, but boom here it is. Enjoy! :)
On a side note. . . should I make it spicer????
#buggy one piece#buggy the clown#one piece#buggy x fem reader#buggy x reader#buggy x y/n#captain buggy#op buggy#opla buggy
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This is kinda impossible, but what if Enoch/Tiphereth B survived into Library of Ruina/brought back to life after the good ending somehow and also got turned into a child along with Tiphereth A?
Would lil Lisa end up becoming bolder and have a sharper tongue than she does in AIP without him?
What would a younger than ever before Enoch/Tiphereth B act since Tiphy also had a personality change in AIP?
How would Ayin react to seeing his first-to-die adoptive son again?
How would X react to seeing the person whose first death was what kickstarted the whole spiral of suffeeing that lead to the Script and X existence?
How would Roland react to seeing someone that he cringely called Tiphereth's boyfriend before she corrected him with a punch?
Which dad would end up taking him in? Ayin because he wants to be a dad to Enoch again and Lisa insists she and Enoch are siblings? Roland because he seems to have the most calm/thoughtful kids and Enoch is one philosophical child? X because Garion wants someone to have debates with and because he needs someone calm amongst his kids?
Most importantly, what more cute and sad interactions would we have had if Enoch was present in AIP?
Dear Anonymous,
Ah, such a poignant question, eh? I suppose it's only natural considering how important Enoch is to Tiphy, and how it's inevitable that he will have to be addressed at some point, so I'm quite glad that we'll touch on that in this ask, ehehe.
Well, to start things off, I think that bringing Enoch into the Library cannot be done without some good angst. After all, the poor boy's story is just chock-full of it, and who am I to not add onto a good angsty story?
I think, as a start, that if Enoch was transported to the Library as Tiphereth B, then he would have severe memory loss issues as a side-effect of his constant reconstruction in the Corporation and the fact that he was turned into a Sephirah long after he died (since it's implied he died at least a few weeks before Carmen's suicide, and definitely a month or two before everything went down the drain and the Head attacked), so his brain was certainly not in prime condition. I think his personality and intelligence would remain unchanged, but he would definitely have difficulty remembering faces and names, and perhaps even people. Maybe he'd only really remember Tiphy/Lisa and perhaps some deeply-implanted memories of Carmen and Ayin, since he was quite attached to the two of them during his lifetime (from what little we hear about him, anyway), so I think his presence in the Library would be a constant source of joy and torment for Tiphy/Lisa, since she'd be overjoyed he could actually join her again and she didn't have to mourn him anymore, but at the same time, seeing his state sometimes makes her wish that he was actually resting.
Should he be de-aged alongside the rest of the Librarians, I think he would definitely get Lisa to open up a little, if only to speak up on his behalf because he would be quite quiet and calm. I think that, although she would be shy as well, she would grow a little bolder to voice his demands and opinions, at least with Ayin. Of course, it's only logical that Ayin would take him in as well, seeing how he'd be inseparable from Lisa. In LC, it seemed as if they knew each other ever since they were little kids, so I assume that Lisa would definitely recognise him, although she wouldn't really be overprotective of him seeing how she'd remember nothing of the Old Laboratory, but she'd definitely have a nagging sensation in her mind that demands she doesn't separate from him at all costs and to always keep him under her gaze, though she would probably be lax on that sensation from time to time.
As for differences in character...Perhaps Enoch wouldn't be as...resigned as he was shown to be in LC. That was one of his most defining features, considering it was what led him to he okay with the Cogito experiment and threw the whole LC cast down the rabbit hole it's known for, so perhaps he would still be calm, intelligent and eccentric, though not necessarily as much of a death-seeker or as resigned as he was, showing some determination of his own when he'd be given a warm house and a warm family without the Outskirts' memories.
How would Ayin react...I think he'd be very scared, all things considered, in the same way someone would be scared of breaking a million-dollar vase. After all, it'd be like seeing a ghost, and considering the circumstances surrounding Enoch, it would a ghost that haunted Ayin for his entire life. I think that describing their relationship in a single word would be: Guilt. It's not similar to any of the guilt that Ayin has to grapple with on a regular basis, however; it is a crushing, all-encompassing guilt that encompasses everything that was caused by the experiment with Enoch, from Carmen's death to the Library's creation, and it would also be the type of guilt that flinches at how unassuming Enoch would be. Whenever he'd innocently thank or hug or shake Ayin's hand, it would cause tremendous amounts of guilt to the older man simply because he knows how this story ended, even though Enoch would harbour no ill-will whether de-aged or as a theoretical Patron Librarian.
When it comes to X, I don't think he'd harbour any anger or resentment to Enoch, although it'd certainly be a fascinating thought experiment for him to go: "I wouldn't have been here without him, huh?", and he would likely give him a few stares from time to time for no reason other than that he's simply fascinated by his presence considering he only ever saw him under the Script's influence. He would see what Carmen regretted so much following the Cogito experiment, and if anything I think he would pity him for what he had to endure during the Script.
As for Roland, I think this is the most interesting of the dads not when it comes to the reaction to Enoch and his interactions with him, but with how Enoch forms Roland's perception of Ayin; he knew that Enoch was sacrificed for the Cogito experiment, but seeing how calm and friendly he is would definitely increase the resentment for the experiment (and subsequently Ayin) tenfold...at least at the start of the Incident. When he and Ayin grow closer, I think Roland might start asking if there were other ways to progress the Cogito research without resorting to experimenting on Enoch, and he would definitely understand the plight of the Old Laboratory more, not being too judgemental although not letting off the Old Lab off the hook for using Enoch so readily, even if there was a lot of hesitation with the decision. Eventually, I think Roland sees Enoch as a turning point for Ayin, in a way, with the latter's immense guilt and pain would drive him towards being a better person to try taking care of him not just as Enoch, but as Tiphy B whenever they do manage to turn the kids back.
Although all of the possibilities with other parents work precisely for the reasons you mentioned, I think that it's simply long overdue for us to give Ayin a second chance at this parenting business, especially when he's the one with such an emotional connection to Enoch both before and after the Old Lab's fall.
As for cute and sad interactions...Hmm, well, I think Enoch would mellow out a little with Angela, cooing at her and playing with her as his real little sister, which would definitely inflame the flames of jealousy between her and Lisa, with Lisa vying for Ayin's affection as a way to get back at Angela for hogging 'her' Enoch. It would be one of the more unique 'battles' out there, eheh.
But as for sad interactions...perhaps the saddest of them all would be Ayin realising that he has to re-age Enoch back into Tiphy B and endure the loss and separation again after just 15 days together as the father and son they always should've been. It definitely makes the decision to re-age the Librarians far harder, especially considering the difficulties Enoch would contend with as Tiphereth B...Of course, without mentioning the copious sad interactions where Ayin shrivels a little on himself whenever he'd see Enoch appreciating him, knowing deep down that he failed him long, long ago...
Of course, there are many more possible interactions, but this ask is getting quite a bit long now, so hey, if you're curious about them you can always send a separate ask and I'll try to answer semi-soonish. Until next time, Anon, be well, stay safe, and see ya'!
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🍉🍪🍕 for Ismene?
Thanks for the asks, Ash! This took longer than expected because after drafting the answers I went to fact check some lore and um. Spent over an hour reading about libraries. Whoops!!
[prompt list]
🍉: Does your OC have a particular piece of jewellery that they always wear or refuse to part with?
Ismene has a black velvet choker she wears almost constantly (an item which is fortunately easy to keep secure on the road and in fights). The choker was a gift from Imoen from not long after Imoen was first brought to Candlekeep, and one with some backstory to it. Around that time Candlekeep had hosted a noblewoman for several weeks who was a dedicated lover of scholarly pursuits bursting with admiration for the monks of Candlekeep. It had been her dream to visit the great library and learn from it, and she treated the hallowed library and its keepers with nothing but the utmost reverence. For the other residents of Candlekeep, however, she seemed to have nothing but contempt- even for the little elf girl who helped to mind the reading rooms and who carefully shelved the books for the librarians between visits. Ismene became a frequent target of the woman's ire. The woman complained frequently of her presence, berated her for her presumed background, treated her as a servant, and harshly criticized the work she did. After a day where Ismene attempted several times to correct the woman for violating the rules of a reading room, the woman went to one of the Great Readers and went on at length about the girl's insolent behavior, accusing her of singling the woman out for harassment and attempting to steal from the woman's bag.
Imoen saw Ismene crying after being scolded over the accusations, and the morning after the woman suddenly found herself with real problems on her hands. Somehow a bottle of ink had cracked in her bag, leaking all over her fine clothes and ruining pages of her careful notes. For the rest of her visit she seemed tormented by an endless string of accidents. Things broke or went missing, her food burned, the floors outside her room were always just slick enough with half done mopping for her to slip... Although she went to Winthrop more than once over these incidents, her complaints fell on deaf ears after weeks of tormenting the inn's staff with false claims. On the last day of her stay, the woman reported frantically that a favorite choker, one which she had worn frequently during her time at Candlekeep, had gone missing. Although she turned half of Candlekeep upside down searching for it, she never managed to find it, and she left the library fortress disconsolate over its loss. That night Imoen presented it to Ismene as a gift. The girls have been fast friends ever since (though they did both get in trouble over the clearly stolen item).
🍪: What is something that's sentimental to your OC?
Any of the many things that remind her of Candlekeep- she misses her home dearly, and has not been happy to leave. The smell of books, the gentle warmth of the afternoon sun in a comfortable seat by a window, the droning sound of chant... Any of it can take her back for just the briefest moment. Maybe the most potent, but thankfully the least bittersweet, moments of sentiment come from time spent with Imoen talking and braiding hair as if they were girls again. Ismene isn't one to voice gratitude, but she's incredibly thankful for Imoen's companionship.
🍕: How does an OC spend a lazy day?
Ismene spends huge portions of unoccupied days sleeping. She can easily sleep for more than twelve hours when not interrupted, and she doesn't mind the time lost. She loathes having to wake before dawn to maximize daylight while traveling; even though elves have no real need for sleep she always sleeps on rest days in towns like she's catching up from weeks of deprivation. Of course, in her eyes her sleep is far more valuable than the sleep normal people experience because of the visions she receives in her dreams.
Aside from sleeping, she enjoys reading and will spend her waking hours squirreled away in a library given the chance- in the small towns of the Sword Coast these are often collections belonging to temples or wealthy private individuals, and identifying who locally has a worthwhile collection to attempt to access is one of her priorities when arriving somewhere new. Often there's little truly new and worthwhile in these collections relative to Candlekeep, but occasionally she's pleasantly surprised. Although on other occasions she is prematurely escorted out of the library after revealing to unhappy owners expensive forgeries or offering unsolicited critique of the gaps in their collections...
I wish I could say she had other things she spent time on as a hobby, but unfortunately Ismene is the number one nerd who never goes outside unless dragged and it really is mostly that.
#the meta reason for the choker has long since been lost to time.#ismene originally only had a visual design and I suspect in 2017 when locking that down I added it as easy space fill asdlfjas#fun to come up with a backstory to it. and also some fun unintentional design parallels with pre-canon asperia#bg1 is the number one game I spend more time thinking about than playing despite playing it regularly recently#making progress has not increased my faith that I will ever reach bg2 so if I ever say anything that conflicts with later canon#just pretend it doesn't </3#certainly a character who's not entirely done cooking lol#ask game#ask me emithing#ismene#arendaes
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'tis the damn season wip snip
THANK YOU @wolfpants & @mallstars for tagging me to share a wip snip (please see wolf's incredible wip snip for terrible people — which i am incredibly excited for — here and mallstars wip snip — for draco as a LIBRARIAN, kill me now please & thanks — here)! sorry it took me ~5 million years to get to it, but i am finally revisiting my beleaguered wip post-secret work completion. @mallstars and @queermccoy have given me excellent alpha feedback & am slowly making a plan of attack to fix the damn thing. this snip is later in this scene feat. emotional disaster case Harry and haughty, prickly, and desperate-to-be-loved Draco.
Malfoy gave him a scathing look. “Whatever I said to Ginevra was said without the intent of getting into your good graces and the second I tell what exactly I said, it’ll become about that, at least a little bit. All this to say, I will never, ever tell you.”
Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy, and Malfoy picked up his mug again, held it in front of his face, and said, trying to sound haughty and cold, but falling slightly short, “If you’re to … to love me, it’s on my own merits.”
Harry couldn’t look at Malfoy after that, just took another gulp of tea and tried to calm his pacing heart. Could Harry really love Draco Malfoy, who tormented him and his friend for years, who had a Dark Mark, who was nothing like the pathetic dream Harry clung onto of a cottage in the Cotswalds like his parents, like Ron and Hermione? Trying not to sound strangled, Harry said, “Can we just be … friends? Like can we hang out?”
Malfoy bristled. “Malfoys don’t audition, Potter.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.” Harry slammed the mug down, sloshing a bit of tea on the gleaming coffee table, and ran a hand through his hair. “I haven’t … I don’t do this, I’ve never … I don’t know what I’m doing, and you’re so“—and he waved a hand up and down Malfoy’s body, who clutched his mug of tea tighter to his chest, looking unsure if he should be offended or flattered—“bloody gorgeous and obviously funny and … and interesting, but we have so much history and look, we’ve done the shagging thing and it’s obviously great, but I don’t actually know you, do I?”
After Harry’s outburst, he snatched his mug up off the table and drained it, sure Malfoy was about to kick him out of his gorgeous cheerful home. But Malfoy actually looked to be thinking Harry’s proposition through. He ran his finger down the handle of his mug over and over, considering Harry.
Eventually, he just said, “Fine.”
“Fine?” Harry said, hardly daring to hope.
“Fine. Fine, but,” Malfoy brandished a finger at Harry. “I won’t be waiting for you like some damsel-in-distress. I’ve been through too much to wait around for someone to decide if I’m good enough for them, even The Chosen One.” His voice dripped with disdain.
Harry frowned his direction. “I’ve been through a lot too!”
Malfoy sneered and Harry was forcefully hit with the reminder of the Malfoy he hated. “I’m not turning this into a competition of who has suffered more, Potter.”
“Well, if it were, I would win,” Harry muttered darkly.
Always love to see what anyone (aka YOU, reading this post) are working on, so please post & tag me if you do, but tagging @romaine2424 because i'm so intrigued by your long fic, @tackytigerfic because i will beg for scraps of multiverse drarry fic at your doorstep if you let me, @vukovich because i love your brand of derangement in my life, and ofc @mallstars and @wolfpants because i am truly obsessed with both of your wips.
#actually getting mallstars & queermccoys comments have made me excited for this fic again#and now i just have to tear out about half of it and FINISH the rest#tis the damn season wip snip#posts i actually wrote
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Jade Pingree is the all-business (and pretty rude) head of the Barkersville Companion Club.
Meredith is part librarian and part party girl. She’s serious during the day, and playful at night.
v - ramblings under the cut - v
I almost never see people talking about the characters from the Sims 2 Pets GBA. I mean. that's understandable. Sims 2 Pets for GBA was not only released two years after the DS was released, but it was also bad.
The Sims 2 Pets for GBA takes a lot of inspiration from the other GBA Sims games, with an isometric artstyle and a mixture of adventure elements and simulation elements. Howeverrr, the problem seems to be that it doesn't feel like it actually knows what to do with it.
The minigames are tedious and boring. Aforementioned minigames pay peanuts and rely on an NPC being in a specific location to do them. Characters have little personality; 70% of the dialogue in this game is completely exchangeable. There's no way to easily find NPCs that you need to find (read: phone call), even though they all have schedules and move all the time. The game doesn't keep track of missions. There's like three different kinds of burglars, and there's no way to stop them from coming to your house (what the fuck). Training your pets is so tedious and repetitive and yet everything else feels like a distraction from it. You can randomly, and frequently, get sick, from fully cooking your food with eight levels of cooking skill and using good kitchen items. Everything breaks down and is dirty all the time. Eating dog food is safer than cooking. This game is having me eat dog food because just cooking feels like a risk. And there's just so much more that annoys me about it.
Okay, I'm done complaining. There's not much to compliment about the game. It does have its charm but wears off as the tediousness of all of its various mechanics settles in. I mean. I'd like to know more about the characters, but also... I don't care.
I really wanted to make Jade. Unlike nearly every other character, she does, actually, have a personality. Even if it absolutely sucks. Meredith is my favorite character in the game. I can't explain why, but her design is neat and she seems really nice and likable. I was considering doing more (read: Elza and Hugo) but after I finished these two I. couldn't be bothered.
I feel as if Meredith brings the Blue Hair and Pronouns to Barkersville. She also has this kind of warmness that I haven't really gotten from other characters in this game. And I believe she's close with Kirk (... Carbon?). I'd suspect they were dating, as they both have positive reactions when they mention each other and I caught them going on a Graveyard Date at 1:00 AM. But when I talked to Kirk he said even though he's with a girl, he thought Celina was hot. So I can only make one conclusion: leave your shitty boyfriend, Meredith!!!
And on Jade: She's definitely on the Barkersville HOA (and Barkersville definitely has one!). She's just that kind of demon. It's mentioned that the Pingree's are a wealthy family. So, I don't think she has a job. Instead, she just torments her community with her influence.
Anyways. I don't actually know anything else about these characters beyond this. So. Um.
I had a lot of fun making these; I'm planning on doing something similar to this for all the Sims 2 GBA characters. I remade them all a few months ago, wanted to do renders to show them all off, and I want the excuse to write things like this about every single character. :) (and. I tried to do them all at once. but um. hm. that's just a little too much.) It'll take a while to actually finish anything w/ that because i need to experiment with format. I gave some of them outfits in other categories than 'everyday,' so I'm thinking about rendering those out, butttt that's up in the air.
#the sims 2 pets gba#meredith crumbie#jade pingree#sims 2 pets gba#sims 4 cas#sims 4 render#i got (to learn how) to use light linking for these :3#so both sims + their animals are all actually lit completely independently!#i love unrealistic lighting. unrealistic lighting is my passion.#absolutely abysmal on rendering speed though. god damn.
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The ending of my short story.
The title is self explanatory, but I will exasperate its expressive nature below.
Snowing flits of fear, flowing rivers of the overseer, people cowering behind the warmth of a beer and memories made only here. You saw the charity in the walk, hares running in the ankle high snow, blackbirds watching from afar, and elderly piercing you with judgement from the comfort of their home. And yet, you continued to walk the heavy snow filled landscape. Alone, Unwavering, grateful and strong. You didn't have to, but you did. Some would say the comfort of the flakes falling upon our cheeks is similar to a mother grasping our innocent childish face, reflecting on how much of a thief time really is. You did not need to look her in the eyes as you began to lose sense of yourself, but you did. You fought from sun up till sun down, from the loss of your guide to the rekindling of your trust in nature. And as death itself, I must cherish your fortitude for you did well. You did all that you could, and no matter how much people will say you failed, you had succumbed to nothing but the same as them. Only difference is the smile upon your face and the ember within your heart being enough to light the world a new sentiment of love, care and forward bravery. Nobody will ever know who you were. But they will get to know you as you live and breathe in each and every tree. For you will be at your rightful mothers side, stronger, more confident and more free than any mortal ever could have been. You knew you lived a lonely life. But you made the most of it. You found comfort in your discomfort. And made the most of what nature brought unto you. For the life you lived, no matter how harsh, lonely or thieving of breath and mind it may be, you made it. You found home. For that, be proud, be glad, and do not settle for your new life has only just begun. They say history is written by the victor, for now, it is written by the survivor of all torment, loss and dissatisfaction. You are the librarian of the barred, you are the guidance for the lost, the crutch to the weak and the warmth to the cold. You, dear Pendler, are our shining colour. Our lone Wanderer.
-Those who Wander, Polar_Jake78
I have been writing a short story since the beginning of this year. I debated on whether I should release my Sci-fi fantansy novels but those are currently under repair. And will be under such maintenance for years to come. A series of books built upon 480k words, which was made within the declination of my controlled self; that of course would hold too many personal innuendos. So, repairs must be done. Think of it like the construction of a chapel.
Instead of saying nothing about what is being done in the background, I thought it would be nice to express that I am indeed making a book. One of which is heavily remarked by those of whom have read the rough copy as a "philosophical walk through guilt, anxiety, oddity and abnormality". This summary may sound overwhelming and stereotypical. Perhaps inferred that this work is but an articulation of a subconscious plague. But rest assured you, this story is but a walk through nature, life, memory and a message that persists upon forward bravery through thick and thin.
This of course will be no easy read. The first intention behind creating this was to create an exercise for those of limited visual imagination. Therefore, there is a lot to visualize and interpret. And last but not least, this story is where I depict my understanding of oblivion. A subject that I have mentioned before on this blog. If you happen to be fascinated by my interpretation, this story in its entirety will be perfect for you.
Nonetheless, this is the ending of my short story(don't question why I am releasing the end and not the start. Enjoy)
Sneaky polar bear picture
#literature#blog#love#motivation#strength#thoughts#adventure#change#booklr#books#book quotes#reading#oc#my writing#polar bear#polar bears#my post#end of a book#short story#philosophy#spilled ink#spilled thoughts#spilled words#spilled writing#expressive writing#explore#mortality#announced#writers on tumblr#tumblog
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fic author self-rec
@mehoymalloy tagged me to pick five of my own fics to recommend, pero i've only finished one for my current fandom, which is what most recent followers would be looking for. so! since the gf, who is much more prolific and better with words than me, has written so much for mansand, i thought i'd pick five of hers that i like the most and want other people to scream about. she's not on tumblr, but she's user stellersong on ao3.
shuddered at what they found when they stripped away the grace
Dream, after the Wake. body horror, not in the usual viscera and gore sense, but the horror of being the newly (re)embodied anthropomorphic personification of the collective unconscious, when part of you had been a human child. this is required reading for everyone who wants Daniel!Dream coping with his new existence. also Delirium is a good big/little sister. (gen)
y me muero por volver, volver
post-Wake Dream and Death get lunch in SF. both of them navigating around the shadow of Morpheus and who they've become. some of my favorite characterization of Death - you really get a sense of her as a person, her grief and kindness. also very good background worldbuilding for the Endless. (gen)
for just to suffer that hurt
Desire's got wind of the developing relationship between their brother and his librarian. it's technically part of their function, after all. there's some fun timey-wimey things happening here with the alternate timelines presented in Overture. also frankly i think the gf is doing the only interesting things in this fandom with intertextual references: so many people are fixated on medieval studies, and meanwhile the Dreaming has every work that has ever existed or could have ever existed in the whole world, which is bigger than England. (*cough cough* Anglocentrism *cough*) this is part of the "endless revisions" series but imho you don't need to have read the previous fics to understand this one. (m/f, Dream/Lucienne, semi-background)
a pillar i am, upright
this one is for all you horny Dream/Luce people. basically Lucienne has fun mentally tormenting Dream while they're both trapped in a work function. this fic also contains one quick reference to my guy, which frankly just makes me warm because i know the gf did that for me. (m/f, Dream/Lucienne)
unauthorized disclosure
this is kind of cheating because i'm listed as a co-author (solo fic in progress, got heavily delayed by me finishing a phd and then hyperfixating on CocoRose). BUT it's not a swan fic-list without a monster au and werewolves are my soft spot. this one's the first in the "red moon" series: basically Lucienne gets hired as Dream's RA for a secret project to cure lycanthropy and things go sideways fast. i'm obsessed with how the gf describes so-called monstrous bodies - there's a brandon taylor essay about how no one in fiction occupies physical space anymore, and the gf is so good at bodies as devices/communicative structures/things that take up physical space. if you've ever gotten tired of fics where the characters seem to move for no reason besides as a dialogue tag (a thing i'm so guilty of in my own writing), you should read swan's fic to study how she uses movement.
this was insanely fun; thanks, Malloy! i always feel weird tagging people but if you follow me and want to talk about your fic, feel free to consider yourself tagged (and tag me so i can read it if i haven't!)
#fic recs#tag games#sandman#sandman fanfiction#lucid dreaming#dream/lucienne#dream of the endless#daniel hall#lucienne
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Saturday, September 24th, 1995
It had been a crisp, autumn day in the city, with an overcast sky hanging over the bustling area, a stark contrast to the array of oranges and reds that began falling down from tree tops. People walked to and from their destinations, as if the living souls around them were irrelevant to the world they resided in. Nothing more than meer blimps in their radar that crescendoed out with every passing foot step.
And amongst these lonely wanderers was a young man by the name of Cole McBride, who had just finished another mundane shift at the library. What he had anticipated to be an escape for the realities of the modern world, had simply added to his bleak outlook on society, unable to find any play within his duties.
After he finished stacking the remaining books into their homes, the blonde punched out, strolling aimlessly on the sidewalk that would lead him to his feeble one bedroom apartment. However, something… stopped him, big light green eyes scanning a quiet antique shop. Though he couldn’t put his finger on it… something was drawing him- no, pulling him inside.
Shifting through the ancient trinkets and discarded kitchen supplies, his subconscious, for no apparent reason, decided to head to a hidden section in the back, where he saw an old VHS tape with 1984 Incident in red letters. Something seemed… off about this item, but he deduced it to be some low budget horror film. Bringing it up to the counter, the cashier only wanted a measly ten cents for it. And with that, the porcelain skinned young adult ventured home, arriving at his quaint apartment, covered in the floral patterns it came with when he had first moved in.
Setting his belongings down, with a strange tingling sensation spreading about, he placed the tape into his player, turning on his television set.
“Every breathe you take
And every move you make”
The room went hazy, and his extremities shivered with torment, unable to articulate what was even playing before him, flashes of distorted color strobing outwards.
“Every bond you break,
Every step you take,
I’ll be watching you”
He fell, but it didn’t hurt. He felt nothing. Only darkness. But that would quickly fade in the coming days.
“Oh can’t you see… you belong to me?”
(Hi there! Tumblr wouldn’t let me post this to my side blog, so here I am lol. This is a fanfic/AU type of introduction I wrote after obsessing over the game Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack! Taking place ten years after the incident, Cole is a shy, introverted librarian who feels invisible to the world around him. Can a certain clown man brighten his dreary world? If you are 21+ and would like to play Jack, I would love to explore this! Thank you for reading!)
#something’s wrong with sunny day jack#sunny day jack#literate roleplay#fanfic#fanfiction#literate rp#yandere#discord roleplay#mxm romance#mxm roleplay
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September 24th, 1994
It had been a crisp, autumn day in the city, with an overcast sky hanging over the bustling area, a stark contrast to the array of oranges and reds that began falling down from tree tops. People walked to and from their destinations, as if the living souls around them were irrelevant to the world they resided in. Nothing more than meer blimps in their radar that crescendoed out with every passing foot step.
And amongst these lonely wanderers was a young man by the name of Cole McBride, who had just finished another mundane shift at the library. What he had anticipated to be an escape for the realities of the modern world, had simply added to his bleak outlook on society, unable to find any play within his duties.
After he finished stacking the remaining books into their homes, the blonde punched out, strolling aimlessly on the sidewalk that would lead him to his feeble one bedroom apartment. However, something… stopped him, big light green eyes scanning a quiet antique shop. Though he couldn’t put his finger on it… something was drawing him- no, pulling him inside.
Shifting through the ancient trinkets and discarded kitchen supplies, his subconscious, for no apparent reason, decided to head to a hidden section in the back, where he saw an old VHS tape with 1984 Incident in red letters. Something seemed… off about this item, but he deduced it to be some low budget horror film. Bringing it up to the counter, the cashier only wanted a measly ten cents for it. And with that, the porcelain skinned young adult ventured home, arriving at his quaint apartment, covered in the floral patterns it came with when he had first moved in.
Setting his belongings down, with a strange tingling sensation spreading about, he placed the tape into his player, turning on his television set.
“Every breathe you take
And every move you make”
The room went hazy, and his extremities shivered with torment, unable to articulate what was even playing before him, flashes of distorted color strobing outwards.
“Every bond you break,
Every step you take,
I’ll be watching you”
He fell, but it didn’t hurt. He felt nothing. Only darkness. But that would quickly fade in the coming days.
“Oh can’t you see… you belong to me?”
(Hi there! Reposting from my main, so sorry if you’ve seen it before! This is a fanfic/AU type of introduction I wrote after obsessing over the game Something’s Wrong With Sunny Day Jack! Taking place ten years after the incident, Cole is a shy, introverted librarian who feels invisible to the world around him. Can a certain clown man brighten his dreary world? If you are 21+ and would like to play Jack, I would love to explore this! Also feel free to send me any asks! Thank you for reading!)
#sunny day jack#something’s wrong with sunny day jack#yandere roleplay#yandere asks#yandere#swwsdj#minors dni#asks open#ask blog#discord roleplay#literate roleplay
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A S A . H O L L A N D
FULL NAME: Asa Michael Holland
HOMETOWN: Swords, Ireland
DOB: October 24, 1978
AGE: 45
GENDER: Cis Man
PRONOUNS: He/Him
OCCUPATION: Head Librarian
SEXUALITY: Gay
HEIGHT: 5'7"
BIOGRAPHY
Full bio under the cut! Please read trigger warnings before proceeding!
TW // Medical malpractice, homophobia, abuse
Asa grew up in a small family home in a town on the outskirts of Dublin. Both parents were devoutly Catholic and the whole family walked to church multiple times a week. He worked summers helping clean up the little church-house in the valley and his father often pawned him off to ‘learn a hard day’s work’ at various places in town. Despite his father having plenty of money and working at a bank in the city, Asa was often treated like he had to provide for his family as well. He wanted to spend time with his siblings but it often fell on him to get a job first, get his sisters to school. There was immense pressure from his family at all times to be the model son.
He had always been introverted but starting in high school, he started to rebel, getting angry at his parents and lashing out at them. His father had just started a very high-profile job in the government and his 13 year old son was the least of his issues. Eventually, Asa was sent away to a home for ‘troubled teens’ and was essentially beaten into submission by orderlies and people who did not care about his wellbeing or his mental stability. He was treated like a problem, like an inmate in a prison at the age of 14 and was kept there for years due to his father’s negligence and lies. Saying after Asa came back for a short time once that he was still ‘acting up’. That they had failed and he would expose them if they didn't forge documents to send Asa off to a mental institution.
Through it all, Asa was manipulated into thinking he was the problem. That he had done so much wrong that he was being punished, and would continue to be for the rest of his life- tormented by the Devil. Because of his father's lies, he was in and out of a few psychiatric facilities, given experimental medical treatments, and treated as insane. His father was a constant terrifying presence in his life, always finding a new place to send him off to in Ireland, Wales, and London.
Asa changed the course of his fate when he fled to the U.S. After stealing his father's money, he began to formulate a court case to close down the corrupt most recent institute he had been stuck in - St. Irene's in London, that had given him permanent head trauma from the misuse of ECT. Using meticulous planning and organizing, Asa was able to craft a perfect court case to take down the mental institution, put the doctors in charge behind bars, and win a huge settlement of money.
All the while he worked for a sweet little old lady who ran a large library in Ashmore. He'd been taken in to organize- a quiet and sometimes (unintentionally) unsettling man who had trouble finding any sort of job, given some grace. As she prepared to retire, she let Asa take more control of the library, going from just putting books away to planning library events, running the social media, handling all computer systems, and talking to customers.
Now Asa is the Head Librarian at Ashmore. A weird little man covered in tattoos who some find a little offputting and others weirdly charming. Asa cares about his employees and cares about his job-he's an artist in his free time and has a little historical home in Old Ashmore where he takes care of 5 cats.
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beloved, i would love to see some of noble pining/ hear noble pining thoughts <3
OHHHH FAUN MY BELOVED. WHAT A CAN OF WORMS YOU HAVE OPENED.
noble pining started in like the spring/summer of 2020 when casey @aberfaeth and i started talking about how fun a fabian/gorgug/adaine princess and her loyal guards au would be. and then, my dear friends, it spiraled far beyond my control.
it's currently over 80 thousand words, i've got a playlist made and a real physical map of the kingdom/s i drew by hand i'm planning to water color at some point, I'm currently working on the 15th chapter and it's not even DONE yet, two years down the line. 😳
cannot wait to finally finish this beast and torment my lovely mutuals and followers by posting a new chapter every week for a pairing that no one cares about nor has anyone ever written about !!!
a snippet from the aelwyn chapter, because it makes me crazyinsane:
Aelwyn wasn’t a good sister. She knew that.
But it was only because Adaine didn’t understand. She’d spent her whole life wrestling against their parents. Shriveling under expectation, shirking her obligations. Aelwyn had tried to show her, as children- just do as mother and father say, don’t show your emotions in public, we are Abernants, we must show no weakness to the people- parroting back what she had heard from their mother her whole life. But Adaine didn’t listen. She couldn’t do anything right, and the more she stumbled and failed and cried, the less tolerant their parents became of her behavior. Which left Aelwyn alone to bear the weight of their expectations.
Adaine blamed her for how their parents treated them. Which- fine. Adaine could make Aelwyn the bad guy if she wanted. But it wasn’t Aelwyn’s fault that Adaine refused to understand how life worked. They were princesses; they couldn’t afford to spend their days languishing around the library or running around the castle like children with their little friends. It wasn’t Aelwyn’s fault that she succeeded everywhere Adaine failed- she was the first born, it was her duty to succeed. There was never any other option.
Aelwyn didn’t have the privilege of failure, like Adaine did. She never had.
But that wasn’t- it didn’t- Aelwyn blinked, hard, as the crowd of citizens roared below them- a communal bellow of rage and grief and sympathy. It made something shiver in Aelwyn’s chest, how simple these strangers’ relationship was to Princess Adaine. They loved and grieved her, but distantly. Like a child who lost their pet but didn’t quite understand what that meant. None of these people- the thousands of commoners and noblemen and women alike, gathered in the square like sardines- knew Adaine. Not really.
Not that Aelwyn knew her either.
The only people that did- the only people who loved her sister, Aelwyn realized with a shudder- disappeared from the castle the day after she did. The two knights that always followed at her sister’s heels, and the young librarian.
It was so easy to shove Adaine into the little box their parents made for her: foolish and weak and emotional and childish. All of the things Aelwyn wasn’t. It was easy to let people pit them against each other, because Aelwyn always came out on top- at least, in the ways that mattered. Maybe, if she had been different, or Adaine had, or their parents had; Aelwyn wouldn’t be here. Staring blindly into a crowd of people that grieved the pretty lie that was the dead Princess Adaine.
hahahahhahahahah :)))) everything is Normal!
but truly. noble pining is a pandora's box i'm loath to open and inflict on anyone (but casey and jamie bc w/o them i'd never finish or even try to write it) at this point, bc there is SO much going on and the scale of this fic is too much to try and explain without going into a full beat by beat character and plot synopsis. so. instead have some aelwyn angst and introspection xox
send me the name of a wip off of this list and i'll reply with a snippet and/or my thoughts on it !!
#asks#LOVE UUUU FAUN#when i say. i have so many noble pining thoughts. it's full pepe silvia up there i promise im like riz w the red string over my own project#noble pining au
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If Carmen is the mother of monsters, ergo does that make Ayin the father of monsters?
Related Link:
https://www.reddit.com/r/LobotomyCorp/s/pAhTqZYSQW
Dear Anonymous,
Hmm...Actually, I don't think that would be the case...at least, not in the same way Carmen is. If we are to judge it by the fact that he was the one who ordered the extraction of Abnormalities using Carmen as the Bucket, then I suppose we can indeed see that he would be the father of the monsters, but I think the main difference between him and Carmen would be the fact that I doubt Ayin would hold anything but hatred for the Abnormalities as a whole.
Carmen would, inevitably, have a soft-spot for them (whether she is Distorted or not) seeing how they were all born from her subconscious while she was submerged in the Cogito vat and she would understand them better than most people to some extent and view them less as 'monsters' and more as just creatures attempting to live, and her Distorted self would definitely consider herself to be 'the mother of all Abnormalities and Distortions' and view them all as children whom she is trying to save. I think even the Patron Librarians and Angela would have a sort of respect or understanding of the Abnormalities when they don't have to contain them in the Corporation, considering their presence in the Library is much more controlled.
Ayin, however, has none of that. He has not one good impression of the Abnormalities; their unintentional creation led to the deaths of many people during the experiments with them, their rampage during the Head's raid exponentially increased the deaths among the few people who looked up to him or considered a friend, and their presence in the Corporation led to countless, repeated deaths that have haunted him for the duration of the Seed of Light's Script, as told during Day 50 in LC. To him, Abnormalities are a source of suffering and bring nothing but memories of torment to his mind, not to mention they'd serve as a constant reminder of what Carmen had to endure and produce as the Bucket, which is possibly what caused her to Distorted and become the Voice of The Distortion. As such, I really doubt that he would ever be quite so willing to accept the title of "Father of monsters", much less have a positive perception of the Abnormalities, although we can probably attribute the title to him one way or another.
And the picture is adorable! I really do like this artist, considering how memorable their artstyle is and how delightful they can make our sort of gnarly cast cute and eye-pleasing. I suppose this is the more literal form of "Father of monsters", hehe.
Thank you for your interesting ask, Anon! Until next time, take care, be well, and see ya'!
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