#anytime Wreaths
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kenobion · 3 months ago
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Andrew Garfield for Sky TV
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voxslays · 30 days ago
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yooo I would love to see prompt #29: carving Jack o’ lanterns with angel dust x gn!reader please❤️ I feel like it would be so funny to visualize😂
Ofc! Thank you for requesting anonnie! <3
CARVING JACK-O’-LANTERNS
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It was a bright autumn afternoon. There was a light breeze, which was very uncommon in the burning depths of hell, and the pentagram in the sky was glowing. Why? It was almost Halloween, and every year on the thirty-first of October, Lucifer would light up the pentagram completely. You had been sitting in the hotel lobby, carving one of your famous pumpkins. Over the years, you had gotten pretty good, learning everything you could about carving small details. You were carving keekee’s face into a Jack-o’-lantern, having grown fond of the one-eyed black cat, whom always seemed to be curling up and taking a nap on your lap.
You had completely tuned out everyone in the lobby, making you the perfect target for someone’s schemes. You suddenly feel a hand on your back, making you drop your box-cutter. You let out a small shriek and turn around, only to be met with pink eyes and white fur. “Angel!” You groan, picking up your box-cutter. Angel grins mischievously, not looking sorry at all for startling you. “Heh, gotcha good! You should've seen your face, toots.” He glances down at your pumpkin carving. “Wow, that's some seriously creepy shit.” You roll your eyes. “You didn’t have to sneak up on me.”
​​Angel leans against the armchair beside you, crossing his arms over his chest. “Nah, where's the fun in that? Besides, it’s almost Halloween.” He pokes at your cheek, grinning. “Whatever.” You pick up one of the smaller carving tools and continue carving keekee’s ears. Angel's grin widens as he plops down beside you, stealing the tool from your hand. “Oh, lemme help with that.” You carefully watch as he brings the small intricate knife closer and closer to the ghostly white pumpkin. “You’d better not mess it up!” You warn.
Angel starts carving, his fingers deft as he adds more detail to keekee's face, as he uses his second pair of arms to keep the pumpkin in place. “Relax toots, I've got this. I've watched you do it enough times, remember?” He hums to himself, clearly enjoying himself. You watch as he gently carves, all four of his hands at work, tenderly shaping the pumpkin. Angel finishes carving keekee's face, then holds up the pumpkin with a proud grin. “There ya go! Ain't it perfect?” He turns it this way and that, admiring his handiwork.
“That’s actually really good.” You gently take the top of the pumpkin and place a red candle inside, lighting it up. The two of you walk to the fireplace mantle and place it right above the intricate white fireboard, beneath the wreath made of orange and yellow fall leaves Charlie had found outside one day while taking a stroll with Vaggie. “Thanks Angel!” You say, squealing as you hug him. Angel's grin widens even more as you hug him, and he wraps all four of his arms around you in a tight embrace. “Heheh, anytime toots. We make a great team, don't cha think?” You smile. “We do.”
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autisticlancemcclain · 11 months ago
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part one
“Guys,” a soft voice interrupted, and Keith could’ve collapsed with relief. The castle has been flipped sideways during the fall, floor suddenly now 90 degrees, and standing at the side of the control board, now the very high top, was Lance. For whatever reason he had climbed it while they bickered, and now stood very still, gloved hand pressed to the glass of the windshield. Blood trickled from his temple, tracing a line down the side of his face, disappearing in the neckline of his armour. “We got company.”
Shifting gears – Keith was about to tear him a new one, when Shiro says sound off you sound off – but froze when he looked out the window, following Lance’s gaze.
Marching towards them, in numbers Keith couldn’t pretend to count, was an army.
— — —
“Well,” said Hunk, holding Allura in both arms, “that looks bad.”
Shiro snorted. “Thank you, Hunk.”
“Anytime.”
Keith wanted to snap at them both. What time was it to laugh? They were injured, mostly defenseless, castle crashed. The Lions still sat, unusable, in their hangers. Hopefully they were okay, but it wasn’t like anyone could go check. Keith could barely even feel Red’s presence in the back of his mind – that stupid new Empire toy had drained them. It was frightening. And Hunk and Shiro were making jokes?
But Keith couldn’t find the words to chew them out. Instead, his voice was caught in his throat as he looked on the slowly advancing army with wide eyes and tense shoulders.
The advancing army was…trees.
That’s what it looked like, anyways. Rows and rows of rough bark and quietly swaying leaves, advancing in formation. A large black bird flew, cawing, above them. Keith tried not to think about omens. 
“Did a forest come to life?” Pidge muttered, squinting. Keith was relieved she was seeing the same thing. Keith has been in space a long time, at this point, but this was like nothing he had ever seen before. This didn’t look like a people in any way he understood. They were alive, surely, their movements organic in fluid in a way non-living things couldn’t quite manage, but his eyes were not deceiving him, and in front of him was a bunch of moving trees. As he watched, they advanced slightly further, stopped, and froze. 
And then, slowly, they morphed. 
Out of the bark, people seemed to…melt? Was that the right word? The trees planted themselves on the beach as if they’d always been there, as if the giant ocean was simply a lake beside a forest, and the bark of each plant seemed to shimmer, to shift. Humanoid figures took form, with skin like wood and hair like moss and leaves, eyes dark and old and knowing. Little saplings hid behind the sweeping dirt skirts of giant, older trees, giggling amongst themselves. Tiny droplets of water shined in dots on dozens of brown faces, glittering on brows and lips and noses like diamond piercings. Vines wreathed around torsos like tailored clothing. 
Above them, Lance gasped. It was a quick, near-silent sound, one Keith only noticed because he was watching Lance from his peripherals anyway. 
“Dryads,” he whispered, unmistakably excited, and before anyone could get so much as a word in he scrambled down the control board, careened down the bridge, and sprinted his way out the exit. 
“No, what are you – Lance!” Hunk shouted, the first to react. He handed a still-unconscious Allura off to Coran, who took her with a wide-eyed, confused expression. 
“Number Two, what is –”
“I am going to burn your Percy Jackson books,” Hunk seethed, already stomping out after Lance. He scooped up his blue helmet on his way and shook it at the door. “You hear me, Leandro? Burn them! Head outta the clouds, that’s an army!”
Keith was quick to follow. The rest of the team fell in step behind him, jogging after Lance. 
Outside was…well, it startled him. 
He’d seen it on the way down, of course. But he hadn’t been focused, really, hadn’t taken the time to map it past what the air currents felt like, past a safe (ish) place to land. The beauty of it now knocked the breath out of him. The ocean was almost crystalline, it was so clear and blue. Keith could smell it even through his helmet, the salt, the sea, and something Keith couldn’t recognise. Every rock on the seashore shone in the bright golden sun, glittering like encrusted jewellery. Down the beach, where the rocks gave way to beach, the sand was bright brilliant white; hard, actually, to look at. On Keith’s other side was a rolling, sage green meadow, peppered with wildflowers so familiar Keith almost felt he could name them. He saw dozens of fruit trees, all different kinds, so ripe and rich his mouth watered. He was nowhere near enough to smell them, but the fruits were so plump and colourful that every instinct curled up in every corner in his head begged him to gorge himself to coma. Even the army in front of him, the rows and rows of stern tree warriors – dryads, Lance had called them – couldn’t stir wariness in Keith’s heart. His shoulders relaxed without his say-so.
One of the warriors stepped forth. She was wide-set, tall, and the ground trembled with every step. Her eyes were dark as murky green pond depths. Deep gauges lined her face, most from the pattern of the bark that made up her skin, but many that disrupted the pattern; rough, torn scars, one right through her right eye. 
“State your business,” she said, voice rough as sandpaper. 
No one said anything. The awe Keith felt was reflected in his friends, wonder rendering them mute.
“You’re dryads,” said Lance softly. He stepped forward, Hunk’s hand falling from his shoulder. “Tree spirits.”
The tree-woman nodded. “If that’s what your people call us, child. Here, we’re Aegians, Last Guardians of Marmaro. And we ask again – name yourselves.”
Her army raised their weapons as she spoke. Sharp, pointed weapons, some of hardened stone, some of crystal and marble, some of the same wood that made up their flesh. One even had shards of metal attached to a complicated string of vine. 
“We are Paladins of Voltron,” Shiro said, finally, hands held up in peace. He moved slowly up from next to Pidge, eyes never leaving the Aegian leader, until he finally stood in front of her, arm loosely circling Lance’s elbow, tugging him gently back. “We come in peace. Our ship was attacked by the Galran Empire, and we barely made it out intact. We apologise for any damage.”
“I’m not sure ‘intact’ is the right word,” murmured the Aegian leader, glancing quickly at their smoking ship, “but regardless. You are here now.  I am Dryope, and I grant you asylum, as is my birthright.” She said the name like dry-oh-pay, but with a lilt to her vowels Keith couldn’t replicate even in his own head. 
Dryope stood to her full height – which, ho-lee – and struck her staff twice on the rock on which she stood. Immediately, the army fell back, weapons sheathed, postures loosened. 
“Aegians!” she called, and every single tree-warrior stood to attention. “The Paladins of Voltron have come to us. We shall extend our hospitality to them, as dictated in the Ancient Laws.” She turned to them for a moment, contemplating. “Seven households come forward. Our guests are to be fed, clothed, and cared for. Who shall claim the honour?”
Keith exchanged a look with Hunk, shifting uncomfortably. Seven households? They were in no position to complain, but on all the planets they’ve visited before, they’ve never been housed separately. To speak up would surely insult their hosts – but was it safe to split up? They were injured and exhausted – if their hosts proved malevolent, they would be almost powerless individually. Allura was still out, Lance for sure had a head injury, Keith was, now that he noticed, breathing laboriously. A quick glance beside him revealed an odd angle to Pidge’s wrist, probably sprained, and Hunk shifted every couple of seconds like he could not stand comfortably. Shiro favoured his left leg. Only Coran stood tall and strong, Allura held protectively in his arms – but Keith knew better. (He will never, as long as he lives, forget the way the man collapsed, ashen and unresponsive, right at his spot at the castle’s controls. The rest of them had just been deemed healthy enough to fight again after falling ill to Deadman’s Spots, fevered and covered in sores and wasting away. Only Coran had been spared – or so they thought. They had almost lost him.) Coran could have a shard of bone sticking out of his leg and none of them would know. 
They could not afford to refuse the help.
The gathered army rippled and shifted as people answered Dryope’s call. One by one more Aegians pushed their way to the front, until seven stood just behind their leader, shoulder to shoulder, chins raised proudly.
“We have space for the injured girl,” spoke the first Aegian. She stepped forward, and she didn’t look like a warrior at all – the smile on her face was soft and welcoming. She was much stouter than Dryope, and and her eyes held the same maternal kindness that Shiro’s often did, deep and black and understanding. The lined pattern that made up her bark was softer, lining her face like smile lines. Thousands of branches twisted and grew out of her waist, resembling the tangled roots of the biggest tree in the forest. Clinging to her branch-skirt were at least four little saplings, young and reedy, peeking their wide eyes out behind their mama’s hips. She smiled wider, hands outstretched, and Keith had to stop himself from walking into them himself.
“Yes,” said Dryope, nodding at her. Her face went oddly soft, smiling at the maternal woman. When she turned back to face the team, her face morphed back into its impassive expression. “Paladins, Rhea and her family will house your injured girl. She will be well cared for – Rhea has nursed and watched many in her time.”
“Come,” beckoned Rhea, almost interrupting Dryope. The leader didn’t seem to mind. “Bring her to me, she must be laid comfortably.”
Coran walked forward, handing Allura to her gently. It spoke volumes to her character that Coran approached her at all, let alone that he pressed a quiet kiss to his charge’s forehead and stepped away. 
“She is only tired,” he said softly. “Not injured. She needs rest, and perhaps food.”
“I will see to it. Come, children.” With a sweep of her skirts echoing like a bamboo broom, she walked back through the ranks, saplings clinging to her back like baby monkeys.
Next, an elderly man stepped forward. He was hunched, gnarled fingers curled around the haft of a sharp wooden trident that resembled Dryope’s staff. Despite his limp, he walked with dignity, and when he lifted his chin to face Coran, his eyes were bright.
“Have you space, Father?” murmured Dryope.
He nodded. “Always.” 
Using his trident as a walking stick, he strode toward Coran, standing beside him. Coran, ever the diplomat, smiled slightly, and began speaking with him too quietly for Keith to hear. Both men, he noticed, seemed to stand the same way, although he couldn’t explain what that meant. It was just – vibes, he supposed. An energy.
“By the Sky, Mother, how long is this going to take?”
Startled by the abrupt change in tone, Keith jumped, turning towards the man who spoke. He was taller than anyone on the team, although shorter than most of the other Aegians, and covered himself with leaves that looked deliberately sewn rather than grown. His smile was wide and white and what Keith could only describe as shark-like. 
But what was most striking was his skin. The dark lines of patterns that covered it had Keith thinking he was as Aegian as the rest of them, made of tree bark, but then he blinked and realised – they were merely marks, or tattoos. Unlike the rest of the Aegians, this man had skin, this man was – 
Lance gasped. “You’re — human!” 
“Half,” the man corrected, chuckling. He swept forward and delicately grabbed Lance’s hand in one of his, pressing a kiss just above his wrist. Lance blushed up to his hairline. “My name is Peitho. I was born here, on Aegis. My father was a lost human explorer. I have never been to earth. But human genes…” He looked Lance up and down, grinning charmingly. “I’ve always felt they’re very dominant.” 
Lance, obviously pleased with the attention, warmed up quick. He walked over, reaching up to brush the hair out of Peitho’s eyes, touch lingering. Like they were friends or something. Keith ground his teeth so hard you could hear it from the ship’s smoking engine room. 
“I thought…I‘ve never seen a human in space. I thought we were alone, up here.” 
Peitho laughed, full-bodied and bright, like the sound of a smoothly rumbling engine. His handsome face creased lightly as he laughed, emphasizing newly-formed smile lines, which only made him more beautiful, not less. Lance smiled widely along with him. “Oh, my dear,” he said, turning that charming grin full blast on Lance, “you are never alone.”
Keith thought his jaw might crack. What a sleazeball. No wonder Lance liked him so much.
“The introductions need not drag on,” Peitho said grandly, sweeping his arm out like he was in charge or something. His other arm was around Lance’s shoulders. “Akeso, Dysnomia, Elatreus, meet with your paladins. They are hungry, and likely tired from travel. The sooner we have them rested, the sooner they can partake in our welcoming festivities. Right, Mother?”
Dryope nodded, looking a mix of annoyed and amused. “Yes, you embodiment of impertinence.”
As ordered by the embodiment of impertinence, three Aegians stepped forward. The first – who must be Akeso, a tall, reedy person with willowy locs falling to their shoulders, who held no weapon – approached Shiro, nodding tersely. Keith felt his brother match the terseness, stiffening. 
(Internally, Keith winced – could his brother not get someone who smiled, maybe? Akeso was probably fine, but, yeesh. There was once a time when Shiro laughed more than anyone else Keith knew. Sometimes maniacally, on two hours of sleep. But he heard it so rarely now.)
The second Aegian, Dysnomia, approached Pidge. Like the Green Paladin, she was short as shit. Keith met his friends eyes and snickered at her. The murderous look he got would make him more nervous if he, as Lance so often liked to gripe, had a bone of impulse control in his body. (Rich coming from him, but. Whatever. It wasn’t like Keith could argue.) The third, Elatreus, was absolutely, one hundred percent, the coolest Aegian Keith had seen so far. Holding an intricately crafted crossbow and with a shoulder width approximately the size of a small mountain, he lumbered over to Hunk. He held out his fist. Hunk wasted no time bumping with his own. Keith would be jealous if Hunk didn’t deserve it so bad. 
“Oh,” said Peitho, after a moment. “Of course, there is one more. Ares!” He gestured with half as much enthusiasm at Keith. “Your guest.”
Keith stilled. From behind Dryope, the last Aegian host stepped forward. His pale, papery bark was gnarled and scared, bulky, and – stained, it looked like, all the way up the arms. His face was more impassive that Dryope’s, expressionless, except for the slightest of sneers. Resting on one shoulder was a massive club, three times the size of Keith’s head at its tip. Like his host’s arms, it was stained. 
Keith forced himself to meet his stare. His host had eyes red as pomegranates – well. Eye.  The right side of his face, like the rest of the Aegians, was humanoid. The left side looked like it had – looked like someone had clawed out his eye, leaving a gaping, half-healed knot of a scar. 
Ares.
Keith wasn’t familiar with a lot of myths. But he knew what namesake his Aegian host bore – Ares, god of war, god of pain, god of hardened warriors and battlefield and bloodshed.
Fitting, hissed a voice in his mind. Keith curled his fists and ignored it.
“Paladin,” nodded Ares, taking his place next to him.
Keith swallowed. “Ares.”
“That, I believe, is everyone,” said Dryope. “Paladins, please follow your hosts. They will bring you to their homes and ensure you have somewhere to rest. At sundown, we shall reconvene at the hearth, eat, and make merry. Please –” she spread her hands, “enjoy our island. I will see you all shortly.”
She cracked her staff once on the ground. Immediately, her army parted for her, following her in formation once she marched through. Many of them returned to their tree form. It was still strange to watch. 
Keith jumped as a hand reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Shiro smiled slightly at him, squeezing again before letting go. 
“See you soon, kiddo.”
He followed his host, leaving Keith to realise he was the last still gathered in the shadow of their crashed castle. The eyeless Aegian stood next to him, hands resting on his club, watching him curiously. 
Keith cleared his throat. “Um, we can go.”
The Aegian continued to stare. Keith shifted uncomfortably, fighting the urge to draw his bayard. That would certainly not help. Things were precarious enough. 
“You do not trust us,” his host observed. His one remaining eye was unblinking, holding Keith’s stare until his own eyes burned and he had to blink.
“No,” Keith admitted. It wasn’t that he was scared of the Aegians, per se, but he was wary of them in the same way he was wary of the Blades of Marmora. He recognised their strength, their power, and knew from the way Dryope stood that she was keeping a lot of information to herself. Any group that kept secrets was impossible to trust, at least by Keith’s standards. He suddenly wished he had been paying attention enough to watch Pidge, Lance, and Hunk leave with their hosts, to make sure they were armed. 
His host shrugged. “Wise, probably. I would have no trust in your position.”
He started to walk over the rocks, and Keith followed. It was no accident that the Aegian kept Keith on a diagonal to him, visible from his right side. Keith did his best to keep himself in his line of sight. 
“You wouldn’t?”
“Do I look like I would?”
“I don’t know how to answer that diplomatically.”
To Keith’s great surprise, his host huffed a laugh. A slight smile upturned Keith’s own lips.
“Fair.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Off the beach and across the meadow, in a deep, round valley, there was a sprawling village. Small, large-bricked buildings dotted hills and lay nestled at the edge of small farms. Dead centre of the valley was a giant fire pit, gently lit, and surrounding it in a perfect circle were several larger buildings in the same style. Keith recognised many of the buildings as temples. 
“This way,” Keith’s host said, beckoning him forward. He turned off the main path and walked along the edge of the hill. Keith teetered after him, trying desperately to keep his balance. He was reminded how hard it was to breathe with bruising around his ribcage, how tired he was. But he kept his mouth clenched tightly closed, unwilling to look weak. 
They walked far past the centre circle, past outer circles, past even the farthest of farmhouses. In crossing one of them, the man stopped, Keith nearly walking right into him, and waited for several moments. He bent over as a tiny little boar came galloping to the edge of the fence on runty little legs, smiling as he scratched the thing between its tusks. Keith couldn’t help but notice the blood covering the sharp, portraying bones, as if the animal had just recently hunted. 
“Hey, Kyknos. Good to see you.”
He pet the boar for a few more minutes, then wordlessly started walking again. Keith had to jog to keep up, tired from the hike so far.
“That, uh, your pet?”
“No.”
Keith waited. No more information came forth. 
“Oo-kay, then.”
There was a Lance in his head that was laughing at him, bringing up every one-word answer of Keith’s that had frustrated the Blue Paladin to twitching eyes. Keith scowled.
Finally, the host stopped at a house. Keith felt he would nearly faint with relief, beyond ready to lay down his head, wariness or not. 
“This your place?” Keith asked, panting.
His host raised his eyebrow, pushing open the door.
“No,” he deadpanned, “this is my annoying neighbour’s house. He’s on holidays. I’m staying here and using all his things to take revenge for hours of small talk.”
“Oh,” Keith replied, impressed. “Cool.” He’ll have to do that next time Lance is on a solo mission. 
“No, I’m – I’m kidding, Paladin.”
“Oh,” Keith repeated, disappointed. “Less cool.”
“Just – get in the house.”
Keith didn’t argue. He followed his host into the small building, nodded as he was pointed to a guest room, and passed out the second his head hit the straw-stuffed pillow.
— — —
part three
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georgie-weasley · 1 year ago
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Grinch Young R.L. x GN!Reader
Warnings: swearing, mentions of depression, mentions of poverty, and just disliking Christmas
Word Count: 2.8k
Pairing: Young!Remus Lupin x Gender Neutral Gryffindor!Reader
Summary: Christmas was quickly approaching and everyone was excited but you. As the residential Grinch you were not looking forward to the holiday but turns out Remus Lupin is a Grinch as well.
A/N: Hello all! This is my first fic back after a break and I'm really glad to be back. Thank you to everyone who is still reading my stories and I love you all. Also this was inspired by my disliking of Christmas so I projected on the reader and Remus a smidge.
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Christmas had exploded around Hogwarts. Pine trees were set up in just about every corner in every single room in the castle. Trees were taller than most of the students and covered in brightly colored baubles and tinsel and magic balls of light that changed color every minute. Garlands and wreaths covered the stone walls and the smell of gingerbread followed the students everywhere they went. The suits of armor broke out into Christmas songs and danced anytime someone passed by. The Great Hall was by far the most decorated part of Hogwarts with festive table runners, stockings hung on the fireplace, large real snowflakes on every surface enchanted to never melt, and the magical ceiling was snowing. It was horrible.
You had never been one to get into the Christmas spirit. The songs were annoying and wormed their way into your brain and never left. The decorations were everywhere and followed you around, literally while at Hogwarts. People were just insanely obsessed with Christmas and overly happy. They were happy to the point of it being creepy and fake and weird.
Possibly the worst was just how excited all of your friends seemed to be. James Potter, sunshine incarnate and your best friend, loved Christmas. He loved everything you hated about it. In fact, James had been talking about Christmas since the beginning of November and he never let you escape it.
“Happy 10th day of Christmas Y/N!” James’s bright and cheerful smile popped up between you and your book. The sudden appearance of his face made you jump, smacking him a little with your book.
“James! You absolute asshole! I’m trying to read.” You huffed and shoved him away as you tried to turn back to your book. The common room was quiet and the perfect place to read until now.
James only rolled his eyes and wedged himself into the miniscule space between you and the arm of the couch. “You know there is an entire couch open? Actually the whole common room is open but you had to sit practically on my lap?”
“Well yeah,” James chuckled as he tore the book out of your grasp and fully moved himself onto your lap. “I have to tell you what I want for Christmas! This year I want Lily Evans to date me.”
“Fat chance buddy. You’ve been wishing for that since you were 13. Give it a rest.” With one hard push, James fell off of your lap and onto the rug with a loud thud. “Besides, don’t you know you don’t get your Christmas wish if you tell it to the Grinch.”
James just looked at you with a wild smirk. “Then I suppose I’ll have to sing a song to reverse the curse!” He then burst into song, singing the Twelve Days of Christmas at the top of his lungs. You clamped your hands over your ears but nothing managed to block out the horrible sounds coming from James until the portrait opened and a figure sped by and body slammed James.
Sirius pulled James into a headlock while Peter quickly sprinted over and sat on James’s chest. “Please Prongs, we’ve talked about this. You can’t sing. Don’t ever try to do it again.” While James struggled to break free from Sirius and Peter, the fourth marauder sat in the open space next to you, his eyes already on his book.
You knew Sirius, Peter, and Remus but not like you knew James. Yes they were friends with your best friend but you never spoke to them unless it was for class or James made you. There was nothing wrong with the three of them. Actually, quite the opposite. You loved them and loved hearing stories about them but you never ran in the same circles. In fact, you didn’t see James as much as you used to either. You had grown up next door to him and as kids you two were always together. It’s not that you two aren’t friends anymore because clearly you are, you just don’t see him around as much.
James found Sirius, Remus, and Peter and never left them. You found your own friends and spent more time on your studies than James ever could. Sirius was fine and you waved to him in the halls. Peter would wave if he was with James or Sirius but not on his own. Remus never really acknowledged you. However, that never stopped you from looking at him. Since James had become friends with Remus Lupin, you were drawn to him. He was quiet just about all of the time but that didn’t mean he wasn’t sassy. You heard the way he would call out James and it was cutthroat. He was tall and handsome and rather mysterious in a way. Not to mention he was smart and was always seen with a book.
“Hey Grinch!” James's voice came from somewhere on the floor.
“What?” You and Remus both said. At the same time, you looked away from Remus as he looked away from his book to find James. Hearing Remus, you then looked at him while he looked at you.
For only a second, no one moved or spoke until James broke the silence. “Right, sorry. Forgot there’s two of ya. Moony?” Remus slowly tore his gaze away from yours to look at his friend who had continued speaking but you could hear none of it.
That was an interesting development. You had assumed James was talking to you since not only does he know about your distaste for Christmas but you called yourself Grinch not very long ago. But Remus also responded so Remus must also not be the biggest fan of Christmas. Otherwise, there would have been no reason for James to call him that or for him to respond.
The night slowly grew darker and while more and more students arrived in the common room, Remus never left the spot next to you. James, Sirius, and Peter eventually left to find some poor soul to bother but Remus remained, his nose still in his book. Honestly, it was making you a little nervous at this point. The man has hardly ever spoken to you since you were introduced back in third year. It's been three years since then and it wasn’t like you were much closer than before.
“You don’t like Christmas?” Remus mumbled, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He sounded almost disinterested.
“Yeah, I think it’s quite dumb to be honest.” You expected him to respond, like people usually do when having a conversation but he didn’t. He just hummed a little and went back to his book. “You don’t like it either?” If he wasn’t going to continue then maybe you would just have to make him. It brought almost a sense of hope thinking about the fact that maybe someone else wasn’t enjoying the season. You didn’t want someone to wallow around with but to have someone that wasn’t going to complain about your less than thrilled outlook would be really nice.
“I don’t. Never have.” Remus didn’t even bother taking his eyes off of his book as he answered. It could have been just your imagination but you thought you could just hardly see him smile. He suddenly closed his book and stood, his arm brushing yours in the process. Remus made it to the base of the stairs before he turned back around to look at you. “Hey Grinch.” As soon as you turned and he could see your face, he smiled. “See you later.”
---
At the Gryffindor table later that week, you had once again been minding your own business when James interrupted you. He sat across from you and smirked, reaching over to poke your arm. “Happy 14th day of Christmas, Grinch Number Two.”
“How come I’m the second?” You said with a roll of your eyes before you continued eating your breakfast.
“Because Remus is number one.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well, I disagree. I knew you first.”
James hummed and shrugged. “I’ll take that into consideration. Did you talk to him after we all left?”
“Did you set that up James?” You asked with narrow eyes.
“No, I just simply called him the nickname I always give him this time of year which just so happens to be the same as yours and I assumed he would mention something about it to you after. Did he?” He leaned forward, eagerly awaiting your answer.
“Yes.” James let out a cheer at your answer, getting him some weird looks from the whole room since he was so loud. Before you could chastise him for being so loud and obnoxious, Remus sat next to you. Which was very odd since before last night, he’s never sat next to you.
Immediately, James got up and moved further down the table to bother Lily. “Are you going home for Christmas?” Remus asked as soon as James was out of earshot. “The final day to sign up to stay here is Saturday.”
“Will you be staying?” You asked.
Remus nodded. “I stay every year.” He opened his mouth and closed it a few times before he evidently decided he didn’t want to say anything and kept it shut.
You could have gone home and while it would have been nice to be with family, you never actually stayed at the castle for Christmas. Now might be a good chance to do it. “I think I’ll stay. I go home every year; my family can survive without me for one year.”
He smiled and started adding food to his plate. “I’m glad you’ll be staying.” You were too busy trying to hide the blush on your cheeks to notice the blush on his.
---
As the holiday neared closer and closer, everyone got happier and happier. Well, everyone but you and Remus. While James and Sirius, who were also staying at Hogwarts, were planning a Christmas party and singing songs, you and Remus bonded over the opposite.
His least favorite song was We Wish You a Merry Christmas, he thought Santa was beyond creepy, and he found the smell of pine to be overpowering. You sat together at meals and laughed at people who were wearing festive outfits. He made you smile as he made faces behind peoples’ backs as they gushed over holiday traditions. On more than one occasion, he shoved James into a pile of snow when he was being too cheery. Remus Lupin was bringing you a lot of joy this season and you were not the only one to notice it.
James made it a point to tell you that this was the happiest he had ever seen both of you around this time of year. In fact, it almost looked like you were enjoying Christmas. You had scoffed at that and then proceeded to shove him into some snow but he did have a point. Remus was making you really happy and it's hard to be a grinch when you’re happy.
But it was nice being happy around the holiday and it was even nicer that Remus was the one making you so happy. You always found him attractive and you knew he was smart and funny but now you got to know just how sweet he was. Yes, he was poking fun at other people but he was doing it purely for your entertainment. He admitted one night after you two had made fun of a particularly ugly Christmas sweater that he never does this; he just liked hearing you laugh. Which made your insides turn into jelly and you couldn’t stop smiling. You also learned that he liked the same books as you and he was so passionate about reading.
He was extremely loyal to his friends and would do anything for them. He wasn’t great at expressing his feelings but he tried his best to let the people close to him know they were loved. He was brutally honest especially when it came to James and Sirius; he was always telling them how stupid they looked or when they were acting like idiots. You felt like a cliche Christmas romance movie but you were falling in love.
---
It was Christmas Eve and James had insisted all seven of the Gryffindors who had stayed needed to sleep in the common room. It was a tradition you two used to have as kids. The night before Christmas you two would sleep on the floor in the living room in front of the tree; you kept up with that tradition until you went to Hogwarts.
Of course before that, there was a party. It was nothing insane like the parties Sirius and James threw after winning a Quidditch game but it was still a party. There were snacks, drinks, games, and Christmas music, much to yours and Remus’s disappointment. You mingled for a while, which is more than Remus could say. He sat on one of the loveseats and only moved to grab more snacks. James tried to get him to play pin the nose on Rudolph but it was easy to guess how that went. While you also didn’t join in on the festive games, you stayed to watch. Sirius managed to get the nose perfectly on Rudolph which made James accuse him of cheating to which Sirius tackled him for ‘insulting his honor’. He confessed to cheating ten minutes later.
Many more games went on like that and after the fifth one, you found Remus still on the loveseat. As you approached, he moved so there would be more space for you. You sat in silence for a while before he spoke up. “Why do you hate Christmas, really?”
You had told him once you didn’t like the music and yes that’s true but it's not the only reason. “I guess I just don’t like how happy people pretend to be. There’s real genuine happiness like James but so many people aren’t happy. Life is horrible and nothing is going right but as soon as it's December, they pretend. It's ok to be unhappy during the holidays; you don’t have to pretend life is perfect just because it's Christmas.” You looked at Remus only to find him watching you. “Can I ask why you don’t like Christmas?”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I never really had a good Christmas. My mom really struggled to be happy around this time of year, especially after…”
“After you became a werewolf?” His eyes grew wide and he started to shake. “No one told me,” you whispered and put a hand on his arm to calm him. “You just were always missing on the full moon and sometimes the day after. I figured it out. I don’t think of you differently.”
Remus took a minute to process the fact that you knew his deepest secret before he continued his story. “Yes, after I was bitten my mother was horribly depressed around Christmas. I think it made her remember everything and she couldn’t be happy. It also was harder for my parents to get money after since no one really wanted to be around us. I saw my parents struggle all month to save money to get me a gift. My mother especially would go without dinner just to waste money on some stupid toy. After seeing that, well it makes it hard to like Christmas.”
Your hand found his and you intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m sorry Remus.”
He shrugged a little and watched your hand as his thumb stroked yours. “It isn’t your fault. Actually, you’ve made this the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” He smiled and looked up at you, his cheeks a dusty rose.
“You’ve made this my best Christmas as well.” It was then something bumped your head, causing you to look up. Behind the loveseat was James who had tied some mistletoe to a stick and was holding it over your head. Remus followed your gaze and sighed, rolling his eyes. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Do you want to?” Remus whispered. You knew James could hear every word you were saying despite him pretending not to listen but you didn’t really care.
“Yes.” You hardly finished the word before Remus leaned down and brought his lips to yours. Immediately your arms wrapped around his neck and brought him closer if it was even possible. His hands found your waist, lips moving against yours in perfect sync. Unfortunately, the kiss had to end so you could breathe.
Remus nudged your nose with his. “Now it’s the best Christmas ever.”
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infinite-protagonist · 3 months ago
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" A Static Nightmare. "
cw; blood, gore, violence, the works.
>[His heart was racing, the ground seemed to stretch to infinity and the rotting breath of it was hot on his neck. Jasper caught sight of Ant, not too far from him. The red eyes were glowing in the silver moonlight, staring at his visibly shaking and tense form. Jasper silently pleaded for him to help, but he didn't move. Ant just stood there, watching. No matter how close he got, no matter this loud he yelled, he wouldn't move an inch. The scent of deceased corpses was wreathing around him, the sickening aroma of blood echoing off of the monster's breath. It was here again, and the static in his ears was overwhelming his senses, along with the pulsing of blood around his body and the ache in his legs. It took all of Jaspers' might to not just stop to breathe, but it would catch him. It was already on his heels, and he couldn't run for much longer. Sharp claws met his back, and pain seethed through him. The gore was spilling out from his form, but he couldn't stop running. No matter how much the pain made him falter, he refused the stop. Only the monster wouldn't either. Talons met his flesh again, and yet Ant still hadn't moved. Jasper was knocked over by the force on his back, and he stumbled to the ground. The split greyscale and muted blonde face stared down at him, a horrifying mirror of a twisted and bloodthirsty version of himself. Its eyes pierced Jasper's very soul, and it didn't hesitate before rasping a barbed tongue over his face, drawing blood in dozens of tiny slices. The red bathed the monster's mouth. The monster had now tasted the one thing he craved: and he was not afraid to indulge. He lifted Jasper with a clawed hand, staring into his eyes before snapping his jaws over his skull.]
>[Jasper woke up gasping. The smell of blood was gone, and he no longer saw that humanoid excuse for a creature. The only thing that kept him shaking? The sound of static echoing in his mind, and it didn't seem like leaving anytime soon. He wanted to think it was just his imagination this time. The paranoia from when he was last attacked from it still lingered, and with these nightmares he doubted it was going in the near future. But this time, it wasn't just his imagination. That buzz wasn't just a nearby TV making him anxious, or a phone or some sort of anything making his mind panic. It wasn't just in his head. It was actually there.]
>[Bone crunched, along with the sickening squelch of blood and guts being devoured by hungry jaws. Black claws hooked liver into the air, for the sharp teeth to close around it like a dog would a ball. The sound on its own was enough to bring bile up Jasper's throat. He didn't need to see the gruesome sight to know that he wasn't exactly thrilled to watch. Loud panting came in-between the crunches now, as if the creature had been eating far too fast for it to breathe. Its pace didn't falter, though. It still devoured its meal quick and furious, leaving little time for it to even pay attention to anything around it. With a deep breath, Jasper turned around to look out the window. He almost threw up; blood was painting the grass, its clothing and dripping profusely from its jaws. Scarlet twinkled in the light. The monster tore earth from around it, dragging the corpse into it with a huff. It was still breathing heavily as it roughly pushed dirt stained with blood over it, the body barely hidden before its attention was focused on standing. Its form was quivering, its balance unstable, its legs barely being able to hold itself up. The monster's piercing eyes darted around, before settling on the wall of the place Jasper considered home. Its position shifted to as if it were about to finally leave him to his own business, but then its eyes moved again. And they were staring directly into Jasper's.]
>[Jasper's heart thudded and his hands shook violently, his breathing growing laboured. The face of the creature was identical to his own, only some colour differences, and the mass amount of human blood on it. Each moment dragged on for what feels like years, the stare of its own twisted version sending a chill of fear that would last for an unnatural amount of time. Jasper could simply blink, or twitch and would scare himself. Despite his growing terror, he stayed frozen, breathing unknowingly becoming scarce. Suddenly coming to his senses, he dropped to below the window, back pressed against the cold surface of the wall. Jasper took a gasp of air, each breath now erratic and panicked. He noticed it eating a human body. And attempting to hide it? There's no way—it must have satiated its hunger if it did plan on doing anything to him right? It wouldn't be hungry enough to actually follow through with anything? His nails dug into the crevice where the wall met the carpet, and the irritation in the beds of his nails when they were moved in such a way stung, but Jasper could barely even feel it.]
“Nonononono… Why is it here? It- It shouldn't be here- why-”
>[His breath faltered every so often, making it hard to speak, even if it was to himself and barely a whisper. It growled, the sound a deep rumble, and seemed to make the walls shake. They didn't, but anything could happen when you're sick with fear. Every moment that passed made Jasper feel all the more horrified, pupils dilated and body shaking. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, the utter dismay coursed through his veins of fire, and finally, heavy footsteps stomped in the other direction, from the sounds of it. The static lessened, and the growl went quiet. The only noise was the sound of Jasper's quiet whimpering and beating heart. He let out a sigh of relief, and looked back up at the window glazed with the hazy night. What he thought was gone, was actually glaring back at him. Pulsing red, furious eyes were watching him, glowing in the dark light. The intense glare made the cold window fog, its claws digging markings into the window. It made it obvious it could see him, but it did next to nothing. It wasn't even moving all that much. Then it began to growl again. An ear-splitting noise dragged on through the once silent night, all coming from its throat.]
“You…”
>[Its words were deep, crafted from its growing fury. Jasper's breath hitched, looking away from the window. His breathing was coming in short gasps, cut off every few breaths, only to begin again. His mouth felt dry, and he scrambled onto the bed while covering his ears.]
“I-I'm just imagining things… it's not here, it's not here it's not-”
>[His eyes were darting around his room. The panic was causing him to hyperventilate, his throat felt like it was closing up, and it was hard to even stay conscious. Jasper's hands were trembling, he wanted to just go asleep, hoping this was all just a bad dream, but it was reality. And he couldn't escape it. He frantically laid down, trying to sleep the best he could. Alas, his eyes kept opening, his breathing wouldn't slow, and panic was overwriting his fatigue. He felt its eyes on the back of his head. He kept trying to just let sleep take him, but it never came. Footsteps were tapping inside the room, causing him to try to squeeze his eyes shut further. Before any signs of any sort of tire, Jasper felt a cold breath on his neck.]
>[Ignoring it now was practically worthless, it would just give the thing more time to plan its attack or get closer or just something. Breath was coming hard again, making him just want to claw his own throat out. It was in his house. He couldn't wait it out anymore. The creature even just showing small signs of even existing made his head buzz with the pure terror it sent through him. Each breath on the back of his neck made him feel all the more sick, he wanted to flee while he could.]
>[But he couldn't move.]
“... You're scared.”
“Why..?”
>[Its voice was obviously just feigned care. Faked concern or confusion. Its growl carried in it's tone, and Jasper hated it. He hated it so much. He hated the way it's sickly breath smelt like the blood in the dream, the way it was thick with death.]
>[He took a deep inhale, and pushed himself off the bed. He didn't want to face this thing. Jasper looked around for anything that he could use to defend himself with. Anything light enough for him to hold comfortably and he is able to travel with, but heavy enough to inflict some sort of damage. When his gaze had finally settled on something, he went to reach for it. He tried to wrap his hand around it, but he couldn't. His hand wouldn't comply. Despite wanting to defend himself, he didn't have the heart. He wasn't ready. He knew he wasn't. He dug his nails into the palms of his hands, and bit his tongue. Jasper's gaze clouded with fresh tears again, and he let out another choked sob. His mind was driven by his own fear, making him foolish. He couldn't even defend himself—it was pathetic. He couldn't even look at the creature. Not even a glance. It's just blatant stupidity at this rate. His hand brushed against the three long scars across his chest, the memory of the cause still haunting him. And he is probably getting more scars, if he survives at all. The raw panic swirling through each inch of his body made him want to pass out, darkness creeping at the edges of his vision.]
>[Another growl erupted from the monster, and its footsteps made gentle thumps as it followed him. It wasn't doing anything to him. But it's close proximity was enough of a sign that it wanted something to do with him. Its figure was framed by the moonlit doorframe, making a shadow cast over its form. Only one stark detail presented it wasn't a hallucination; it's glowing eye casting a faint red onto the walls around it.]
“... Why are you scared? I don't want to hurt you…”
>[It's lying. It didn't even bother to try to cover its lies. It's feigned voice only spoke feigned truths. It enjoyed Jasper's suffering. It thrived on his fear.]
“Y-you’re lying to me! Don't- Don't lie to me!”
>[His voice came out as a feeble cry, his legs tripping over items strewn across the ground, pitifully shaking as he somehow stayed standing. The creature's distorted form drew Jasper's eyes in. Previously, he couldn't look at it.]
>[Now he couldn't stop.]
>[It scowled at him. It wasn't pleased with that answer. With a crack, it's back straightened, it's new height a terrifying contrast to his own. Its was over a foot taller than him. It was staring at where the scars left from their previous encounter was.]
“... You're right. Lying doesn't feel right. But… he lied. Why can't I..?”
>[Its voice was still distorted. Still irregular and glitchy. Carried hate mixed with hunger with every syllable. The noise was loud, making every object and being fizz with each letter. And the sensation didn't feel pleasent.]
“There's nobody left to disappoint… so what's the point in truth?. .”
>[Another wave of illness washed over Jasper's form, making more bile rose in his throat. Just the acknowledgement of it made him feel all the more sick. He was so, so pathetic. He was quivering under it's gaze alone. He wasn't even trying to run anymore. But one thing stuck out in his mind. The only thing that wasn't blurring with his other thoughts.]
>[Why was it here?]
“W-what- who-”
>[He gasped for air before continuing.]
“Who lied- what do you mean-!”
>[It snarled, baring it's bloody teeth, salivating at the sight of the shaking human in front of him. His earlier meal was entirely forgotten at this point.]
“... You should know who, considering they were your little fucking savior.”
>[Each moment that passed uncovered another level in the creature’s hate for him. It reveled in his suffering. Its claws twitched, a low growl erupting from it's throat, its mind spinning with each way he could hurt Jasper.]
>[It really despised him. And it was obvious.]
“Savior-? Wh-”
>[Then the realization hit him.]
>[Ant.]
>[Jasper focused on its hands, the way they were trembling with the ways of torture he could put him through. His eyes darted around, desperately trying to find an exit.]
>[It was grinning. It was heartless, it was truly a monster.]
“Don't tell me you think he's… more than that? Did he really find someone to replace me that easily?”
>[Its figure loomed over Jasper, its height making him want to black out.]
“Replace you..?”
>[His hands restlessly tried to find some way of defense, some way to attack it, some sort of weapon. But his hands only met air. The creature looming over him only made him all the more anxious.]
“I-I never tried to replace you- I- I'm a doppelganger but- I never tried to- What are you on about!-”
>[Its too close.]
>[Its too close.]
>[ITS TOO CLOSE.]
>[ITS TOO CLOSE ITS TOO CLOSE ITS TOO CLOSE ITS TOO CLOSE ITS—]
“He REPLACED me with YOU. HE LEFT ME IN THERE! TO ROT, TO SUFFER.”
>[With a roar, he firmly grabbed one of Jasper's arms, and forced the limb to the ground, knocking him over effectively. Jasper's ears rang, a high-pitched noise blocked out most sound, but he could still make out its words. And it was just speaking, it was just ranting.]
“I heard him. I heard him, I heard EVERYTHING. He ran, he ate everything in sight- he tried to find him- that grey fucking BASTARD- but I don't get the treatment he did. He found a new me. One that isn't as fucked up… one that isn't as twisted. One that doesn't remind him of what he did.”
>[Of what he did.]
>[It leaned in closer to its prey's face, its eyes glittering with hunger.]
“Now… you'll understand how it feels to be abandoned by someone you love.”
>[‘Someone you love’. It's in pain.]
>[Its words were echoing in Jasper's mind. Despite wanting to kill him with every fibre of its being, he was unsure. He wanted the creature to leave. He wanted it to flee, he wanted it to run and never come back but on the other hand… where would it go? It sounded as if it had lost everything. His breath was musky on Jasper's face, but he barely even noticed the irony tang of blood on its breath.]
>[Everything had led up to this. Every nightmare, every interaction, led up to this moment. Him facing it again.]
>[He felt stupid. He felt idiotic even—but he decided to speak.]
“You're hurting, aren't you?”
“He abandoned you… for me.”
“And you want to pay him back.”
“You're in pain.”
>[It paused. Why wasn't Jasper still terrified? Where did this sudden change in behaviour come from? It didn't want him to fight back. It didn't like it. It didn't like how the words felt so… targeted.]
“You can't fool me with your fake sympathy… It won't work on me. You can't escape this… You can't change my mind.”
>[It began to shake its head again, low growling coming from its throat. Its eyes were now glazed with newly uncovered hurt. Jasper was right. It was hurting. It hates Jasper because Ant chose him over it. It wants him to feel how he did… how much anguish he felt when he abandoned him. By killing Jasper.]
>[What was meant to be a regular encounter twisted into fleeing prey and furious hunter, filling both parties with some way of grief. What used to be a useless human was now the reason for everything. Was the reason for its savage nature and hidden sorrow.]
>[With it's pitch-black talons, he grapsed Jasper's chin and lifted him into he air with a huff. But… it just stared at him. Staring into his eyes—into his soul—seaching for something. Searching for a reason. A reason to hate him as much as it does. A reason to kill him and get revenge.]
>[But it couldn't find anything.]
>[To hurt him, though? There was no excuse not to…]
>[It bared its teeth, fangs glinting with scarlet, and it wrapped it's claws around one of Jasper's arms. It dug it's claws in at some angles, applying pressure and force until—]
“Its not fake I-”
>[Snap.]
“AAUGH-”
>[His arm was tilted in a direction it most definitely wasn't meant to be in.]
>[Pain was jolting through his veins, blood hot with the sudden ache. The injury throbbed at the pace of his racing heartbeat.]
>[What could he do? Death wasn't something he was exactly thrilled about, but on the contrary, he didn't want to leave it in pain. But who could say him dying would even cure it? What if his death only cause more? Everything was confused and his sense were too overwhelmed to speak. A solution was far gone now. Hopefully where this would take him, it was a good situation.]
“H-hey- J-just- Just listen, alright-? I don't want to hur-rt you either-”
>[He writhed in it's grasp, despite the jolts of pain it sent through his arm. It was him, right? But just… a little different. Hopefully resistance would make it leave him alone.]
“Just think- think about it! What good will killing me do-? Ant will just hate you more if you kill me- you'll gain nothing but more hurt!”
>[Jasper didn't like how ruthless his point was, but if it worked…]
>[It slammed Jasper down as he began to struggle, almost hissing in his face.]
“SHUT. UP.”
“I DON’T FUCKING CARE THAT HE WILL.”
>[Its voice was cracking. It was getting more and more vulnerable.]
“You won't hurt me because you can't.”
>[It shaked him, snarling.]
“You are weak- worthless. You can't do anything to stop me I can kill you right now, and you can't do anything about it.”
>[Static slipped into its voice as it crackled and wavered further.]
>[He can't do it. He can't keep acting, it's too hard to keep his composure.]
“Wait- N-no-!”
>[The static was flooding his sense, and he could only hink about it. He could only comprehend this it was here, in his house, in reality, and could kill him. Right here. Right now.]
>[Jasper's legs flailed as he desperately tried to free himself, but to no avail.]
“Ant- A-Ant please! Please- help me!”
>[And yet fighting only made him desperate. Desperate enough to fall back into his own weak and pathetic way of escape.]
>[It growled, and dug it's claws into Jasper's cheeks, effectively silencing him, and his gaze darted away.]
“I said… SHUT. UP.”
>[When it returned, though? Its eyes were shiny with brewing tears.]
“Stop. Just stop. There's no need for any of that— he won't—can't save you.”
>[His sentence was rough and almost like a warning. It carried a sense of hope. Ant didn't save it… why would he save Jasper?]
>[Finding out what was wrong with the creature was a tedious task, and he hated it. This thing was beyond saving. It was beyond fix. Yet it's shedding tears…]
>[They fell like his own.]
“You don't know that. Ant could…”
“Come back for you too.”
>[...]
“You can't- you can't say that! You dont know what happened- you weren't there! He- He promised me!”
>[Its tears continued to flow, despite it's best efforts to stop whatever thoughts made him. It hated that's feeling. It hated it, it hated weakness. It begrudgingly let Jasper go and let its head fall into its hands.]
>[It couldn't do it. It hates Jasper—with every fiber of his being—it loathed him. It wanted to tear his skin apart and hang it up like a trophy of success, it wanted to watch the life drain from his eyes, as his cries for mercy faded away. It wanted to watch his carcass rot over time, he wanted him gone. He wanted Ant to feel how he felt. The agony he went through.]
>[But he couldn't.]
>[And it hated itself for it.]
>[It let more worthless tears flow, choked cries escaping its throat, muffled by static and glitches. Pixels summoned around its form, hoping to deter Jasper away from him. It wanted to hurt him still. So, so badly.]
>[The door creaked open.]
“Jasper!”
>[Worry was brimmed in his gaze as Bryce peered through the door. Jasper was covered in fresh bruises.]
“Bryce- Why are you here– GET OUT!”
“Jesus fucking Christ- what happened to you? Who did this?”
>[Bryce ran towards Jasper, picking him up easily.]
“Who— what did this to you!?”
>[Jasper, although injured, put up a huge fight.]
“STOP! GET- GET OUT OF HERE!”
>[What was it doing? It was behind him, not too far—why was it just there? Doing nothing?]
>[Bryce needed to leave, and quickly. Before anything else happened.]
“No! You are not staying here. You are clearly hurt!”
>[He kept a firm grasp of Jasper, and carried him outside. There was little cold in the air, yet his body felt cold. Almost too cold for the weather.]
>[Bryce placed him into the passenger seat, excusing his rude demeanor for being in pain. Even if he didn't seem like it. He sat in the driver's seat, and began driving. He saw a red eye glinted outside the window.]
“Fuck…”
>[The curse was no more than above a whisper. He hoped that if they drove enough, it would leave them alone.]
>[During the ride, Jasper stayed silent. He wasn't in visible pain, and he didn't look scared, or shy or anything. He looked angry. Furious, even. The hand that was on his non-broken arm was gripping the seat so tightly that marks were being engraved in the dark leather. His lips were twisted in a snarl, the corner of his mouth twitching with the effort to not lash out. Even though he tried, so, so hard, he couldn't help but speak up.]
“ARE YOU MENTALLY FUCKING INSANE?! DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU JUST DID?”
>[Bryce seemed quite confused.]
“No… not really. What did I do?”
>[He was getting quite irritated. He quite well have died if he hadn't stepped in!]
“Jasper, you can tell me anything. What in the hell is going on between you two?”
“That thing DESPISES me. It will stop at NOTHING to make my life a living hell.”
“You'd better count your days, because it may come for you too.”
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psychics4unet · 4 months ago
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Cloud Divination Guide: 100 Cloud Shapes That Can Predict Your Future [Nephelomancy & Aeromancy magic]
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Cloud Divination Guide
Dragon 🐉 - Power and strength are coming into your life.
Heart ❤️ - Love and romance are on the horizon.
Dolphin 🐬 - Playfulness and joy will soon enter your life.
Angel 👼 - Protection and guidance from a higher power.
Butterfly 🦋 - Transformation and personal growth.
Tree 🌳 - Stability and growth in your life.
Bird 🦅 - Freedom and perspective are important now.
Star ⭐ - Good luck and positive outcomes.
Cat 🐱 - Independence and curiosity.
Horse 🐎 - Strength and adventure.
Fish 🐟 - Prosperity and abundance.
Flower 🌸 - Beauty and new beginnings.
Ship ⛵ - A journey or adventure is ahead.
Eye 👁 - Awareness and intuition.
Key 🔑 - Solutions to problems are coming.
Ladder 🪜 - Progress and moving upwards.
Crown 👑 - Success and recognition.
Elephant 🐘 - Strength and wisdom.
Feather 🪶 - Lightness and freedom.
Fire 🔥 - Passion and transformation.
Sun ☀️ - Happiness and energy.
Moon 🌙 - Mystery and intuition.
Starfish ⭐️ - Healing and regeneration.
Fox 🦊 - Cleverness and adaptability.
Owl 🦉 - Wisdom and knowledge.
Scales ⚖️ - Balance and justice.
Spider 🕷 - Creativity and patience.
Lion 🦁 - Courage and leadership.
Turtle 🐢 - Patience and longevity.
Hand ✋ - Assistance and support.
Mountain ⛰ - Obstacles and achievements.
Wave 🌊 - Emotional ups and downs.
Phoenix 🔥 - Rebirth and renewal.
Bridge 🌉 - Connections and transitions.
Clock ⏰ - Time is of the essence.
Compass 🧭 - Direction and purpose.
Umbrella ☂️ - Protection from difficulties.
Mushroom 🍄 - Growth and hidden potential.
Mask 🎭 - Deception or hidden truths.
Anchor ⚓ - Stability and security.
Arrow ➡️ - Focus and direction.
Door 🚪 - New opportunities.
Lightning ⚡ - Sudden change.
Rose 🌹 - Love and passion.
Sword 🗡 - Conflict or resolution.
Kite 🪁 - Freedom and aspirations.
Wolf 🐺 - Loyalty and instinct.
Globe 🌍 - Broadening horizons.
Crystal 🔮 - Clarity and insight.
Candle 🕯 - Hope and guidance.
Rainbow 🌈 - Promise and harmony.
Rabbit 🐇 - Speed and agility.
Book 📖 - Knowledge and learning.
Dog 🐕 - Loyalty and friendship.
Frog 🐸 - Transformation and renewal.
Hat 🎩 - Disguise or new roles.
Balloon 🎈 - Celebration and joy.
Bell 🔔 - Alert or important news.
Snowflake ���️ - Uniqueness and purity.
Guitar 🎸 - Creativity and expression.
Cup 🏆 - Fulfillment and success.
Foxglove 🌷 - Healing and caution.
Unicorn 🦄 - Magic and fantasy.
Shield 🛡 - Protection and defense.
Rose 🌹 - Romance and beauty.
Mask 🎭 - Hidden emotions.
Tree 🌲 - Growth and strength.
Moon 🌕 - Emotions and cycles.
Sunflower 🌻 - Happiness and positivity.
Chain ⛓ - Restriction or connection.
Helmet 🪖 - Protection and readiness.
Leaf 🍃 - Change and renewal.
Fan 🌬 - Comfort and relaxation.
Wreath 🎀 - Honor and celebration.
Scepter 🔱 - Authority and power.
Shell 🐚 - Secrets and protection.
Lantern 🏮 - Guidance and hope.
Horseshoe 🧲 - Good luck and protection.
Pear 🍐 - Abundance and prosperity.
Ghost 👻 - Past influences.
Pig 🐖 - Wealth and abundance.
Jellyfish 🪼 - Flexibility and grace.
Pumpkin 🎃 - Harvest and transformation.
Ant 🐜 - Hard work and perseverance.
Gloves 🧤 - Care and protection.
Starfish 🌟 - Healing and regeneration.
Seashell 🐚 - Secrets and intuition.
Dice 🎲 - Chance and risk.
Vase 🏺 - Containment and preservation.
Scissors ✂️ - Separation or precision.
Wheat 🌾 - Abundance and fertility.
Violin 🎻 - Harmony and creativity.
Dolphin 🐬 - Joy and playfulness.
Bear 🐻 - Strength and introspection.
Swing 🎠 - Playfulness and balance.
Lighthouse 🗼 - Guidance and direction.
Mushroom 🍄 - Hidden potential and mystery.
Rocket 🚀 - Ambition and progress.
Shield 🛡️ - Protection and defense.
Clover ☘️ - Luck and prosperity.
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midnightkens · 6 months ago
Text
i love you, i hate you
TW: Homophobia/biphobia, homophobic slurs, past child abuse, religious trauma, alcoholism, allusions to PTSD, mentions of depression
--
Colt hates December.
The Decembers of adulthood are a far cry from those of the latter half of his childhood and his teenage years. The harsh, biting Seattle winters meant being handcuffed to intense seasonal depression and anxiety, a toxic current that threatened to sweep him under as the months dragged.
Even living in sunny Los Angeles, depression sometimes wraps its tendrils around him. It's bearable now, but it's a small solace. December still brings horrors he'd rather forget. The phone feels heavy in his hands, and he uses his other hand to brace himself against the counter.
It's almost Christmas, but it's never been the most wonderful time of the year for the Seavers family.
Other families get to sit around a tree, opening presents and laughing together. His father's house looks like any other. It's decked to the nines in garland and wreathes, an extravagant tree and a nativity scene. Colt clenches his fist at the thought. His father, the God-fearing Christian, the preacher, so devoted to his parishioners and their families, the fakest fucking human being that Colt knows. His parishioners don't see the real Benjamin Seavers, the violent alcoholic, the abusive father and useless husband. Christmas doesn't change anything. It's an excuse for him to get sloshed, grumble about Colt never visiting, and inevitably stumble to bed, blacked out in a drunken stupor.
It's so fucking fake, and Colt hates them, yet he returns. Year after year he hops on a plane and spends a week in his childhood home, feeling like a terrified eight year old all over again.
Hands wrap around his waist, and Colt feels feather-light lips press a kiss on his shoulder. He lifts his hand and clings to Ken's arm, subconsciously leaning into the touch.
"You really don't have to go," Colt murmurs. "I know how it'll go. Hi, Dad. Are you drunk already? Why do you always think I'm drunk? And why did you bring your faggot ass partner? Dad, I'm gonna have to ask you not to call Ken a faggot. To quote Taylor Swift, I think I've seen this film before. You don't need to suffer with me."
"That's not even the worst thing I've ever been called," Ken reminds him nonchalantly. Colt rolls his eyes. "And I handled your mother pretty well, didn't I?"
"Yeah, and you looked hot doing it," Colt admits. "But you can't kick Dad out of his own house."
"I always look hot." Colt's shoulders shake with barely suppressed laughter and Ken grins. "And yeah, we can't kick your dad outta his house, but what's stopping us from just leaving? You're a grown man, hon. You don't have to take his bullshit anymore."
"I know. It's just really fucking complicated, and I hate that it is, and I don't want to drag you into it."
"You're not dragging me into anything. Listen, you've put up with my issues and Patrick stalking us and all that. Let me come with you so you don't have to deal with your crazy dad alone."
Colt sighs. Ken's voice leaves no room for argument, and a small part of him is happy that he won't have to be alone.
He just wishes it were different.
--
Colt grips the steering wheel so tightly that it creaks under the force. Ken looks out the window and sings under his breath. There's no place like home for the holidays. But Colt isn't home. He's returning to his personal Hell, the place he's never belonged. Colt's stomach lurches as they pass the church he grew up in. Cars fill the parking lot, and images of his father screaming his Sunday sermons, a wild look in his brown eyes, flash before his eyes.
Ken doesn't speak of his childhood much. Colt knows he and Barb grew up in foster care, and his needs and wants often went unmet. But he knows that Ken has never set foot inside any church. Anytime Colt describes his childhood, Ken looks like a deer in headlights.
It was traumatic, but it was all Colt knew until he escaped. Even now, the pounding of his fathers fists and the sound of his booming voice as he tries to cast the demons out of Colt are so visceral that he debates pulling over and making Ken drive the rest of the way.
A therapist he saw after his accident called it a flashback. He and Ken know how to ground the other one through them. But for Colt, it's easy to ignore them so long as he doesn't entertain thoughts about his parents, or his sister, or the church.
Easier said than done.
--
Colt pulls into the driveway and drums his fingers on the dashboard. He drinks in the sight of the nativity scene, the huge wreath on the front door, the Peace sign on the side of the house. Passerby wouldn't give the house a second glance. It's small and unassuming, perfect for hiding the dirty secrets inside.
Ken takes one of Colt's hands and gives it a squeeze. If his hand is sweaty, his partner doesn't comment. "It's okay, hon," Ken reassures. "I'll be here the whole time."
Colt nods. If he opens his mouth, he might throw up.
He's not sure when he gets out of the car, but suddenly he and Ken are at the front door. Someone must've knocked? Was it him? He doesn't have time to ask himself more questions before someone barrels into him, knocking his breath away.
"Uncle Colt!" Colt immediately relaxes and glances at his niece. Melanie is ten now, and with a smug smirk, thinks that she's starting to look more like him the older she gets. "Mom and Dad told me, Charlotte, and Lydia that you weren't coming!"
Colt barely refrains from rolling his eyes. Of course Natalie and her scumbag husband would have commentary. Don't they know better by now? He's too weak to stay away. But there's some solace in his nieces' eagerness to see him. "Hey, short stuff." Colt ruffles her hair and hugs her tightly. He really should see Mel, Lottie, and Lydia more often, but he'll go to jail if he's around his sister too much.
Melanie pulls back with an affronted gasp. "I'm not short! I - " She cuts herself off and fixes her eyes on something to Colt's left. His heart races. Please take it well, please take it well, please take it well. "Who's this?"
Colt swallows and slips his hand into Ken's. Ken runs his thumb over Colt's knuckles, and some of the tension in his shoulders eases. "Mel, this is Ken. Ken, this is my niece, Melanie. Ken is - "
"Ohhhhh! Lydia!" Melanie turns and eagerly races back to the living room, blonde ponytail swishing behind her. "Lottie! Uncle Colt brought his boyfriend!"
Colt winces and steals a glance at Ken. His partner's eyes dance with mirth, and he guides them into the house. "Come on. She seems excited, at least."
Yeah, but she shouldn't have - Colt quickly halts that train of thought. Melanie is ten, she doesn't know any better, and he's about to introduce Ken as his partner anyway. It doesn't matter. Colt closes the door and hears footsteps trampling down the stairway. He braces himself for the onslaught.
Lottie and Lydia slam into him, but he doesn't fall back this time. He wraps his arms around them both, looking around in amusement as they speak over each other. Lottie's thirteen now, Lydia sixteen. He's missed out on so much time with them, and it hurts.
"Hi, Uncle Colt!" Lydia pulls away first and all but yanks Lottie back. Lottie scowls and swats at her sister, but Lydia hardly pays her attention. "Where have you been?"
"Yeah," Lottie interjects. "Why don't you come visit?"
"Is it 'cause of Mom? She's, like, on one today, so watch out."
"Great," Colt says wryly. "I've been looking forward to that."
Lydia rolls her eyes. "Yeah, she's a bitch. Anyway." She grins cheekily, and Colt narrows his eyes. That's never a good sign. "Is this your boyfriend?" Lydia looks Ken up and down, and Colt swallows.
They've never met any of Colt's previous boyfriends. None of them have ever been serious enough. They know about his bisexuality (thanks, Natalie), but this feels different. "Yeah, Lydia. This is Ken. He's my boyfriend."
"Hi." Ken waves at the girls. His arms are lax at his sides. His lips quirk in amusement, but he allows the girls to size him up.
"Hi." Lottie crosses her arms and taps her feet. "How'd you meet my uncle?"
"Singing karaoke."
Lydia blinks in surprise. "That's kinda cute. Was he any good?"
"I don't know." Ken shoots Colt a smug smirk. "He didn't sing. I did and then he came up to me and talked my ear off."
"And you loved every second of it. You can't fool me."
"Yeah, sounds about right."
"How would you know?" Colt counters, jaw dropped in shock. Sassy. "You're not even old enough to get into a bar!"
Lydia shrugs. "You talk a lot."
Ken laughs and pats his back. "It's okay, babe. I think we're even there."
"I like him," Melanie says. "He seems nice."
Colt's shoulders slump in relief. His nieces mean the entire world to him. He tries so hard to counter the toxicity spewed by their parents, to mold their worldview and teach them how to be accepting. They only speak over text, and sometimes, Colt is never sure if his attempts are successful. But for Melanie to like him, and oh, Lydia and Lottie are nodding in agreement...It's a huge deal. It gives him hope that his nieces will be able to break the cycle. "He's all right," Colt says with a shrug. "I think I'm gonna keep him around."
"Girls!"
Here it comes.
Natalie is an imposing woman. She's tall and dark-haired like their mother, with the same striking green eyes. It's eerie. And somehow, she's somehow more homophobic than Mother Dearest. She locks eyes with Colt and purses her lips. Colt stiffens and keeps his eyes locked on hers, like he's preparing for battle.
"Girls, I thought I told you to get in the kitchen. Run along now." The girls grumble, but do as they're told. Colt knows that feeling all too well. Natalie spent their childhood making snide demands of him and making the consequences very apparent.
Natalie steps closer and wrinkles her nose like she's smelled something particularly unpleasant. Ken squeezes Colt's hand, and Natalie notices the action. "Who's this?"
"You're not dumb. You know who he is."
"Why'd you bring him?"
"Why'd you bring your husband?"
Natalie's lips press into a thin line, and when she speaks next, it's through gritted teeth. "That's different, Colton."
"How?" Ken asks with mock sincerity. "How is it different?"
Natalie sneers at them, and Colt suspects she'd like nothing more than to spit on them both. "Because you're breaking my father's heart - "
Colt barks out a surprised laugh. "His heart? Come on, Nat. You and I both know that Dad doesn't have one of those."
Colt all but drags Ken into the den, away from his sister. Dad's in there. Benjamin Seavers glazes blearily at them over the top of his beer bottle. Colt swallows. It's so fucking hard to be in the same room as him. He's tall and broad, all blond hair and steely blue eyes. Colt despises looking in the mirror sometimes.
"Colt." Dad stumbles over to them and clasps a large hand on Colt's shoulder. Colt doesn't even flinch. He doesn't acknowledge Ken at all. "I thought I told you not to bring that into this house."
"Too bad. He is my partner, his name is Ken, he's staying, and you'll respect him or we're getting on the next flight home."
"I have no problems getting the belt, boy - "
"Oh, you don't? Try me, old man! I'm bigger than you, and I cou -"
"Let's go see what's happening in the kitchen, Colt." Ken all but yanks him away and drags him to a secluded hallway. Colt presses his palms into his eyes so hard that he sees stars. Ken rubs his arms soothingly, and Colt leans into the touch.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he groans. "I'm sorry you had to hear me threaten to beat my dad. We shouldn't have come. He's an asshole and Nat - I don't know what the fuck to call her - "
"Hey, hey, none of that. We don't have to stay, remember? Say the word, and I'll book us a flight home."
"I know. I just don't want to hurt my nieces. They don't really get it."
Ken looks at him sadly, but he doesn't argue. He was in a situation he felt trapped in, too. There's an understanding between them that runs deep, but Colt wishes it didn't exist. For both of their sakes.
--
"And they threw you out a window?" Lottie's so enraptured by Colt's story that she doesn't notice her food sliding off her fork.
"Yeah, and then they - "
"Girls, stop it." Colt's brother-in-law pounds his fist on the table. The girls don't flinch, but Ken does. Colt grabs his hand to ground him. "I don't want you taking life advice from someone like that."
"Like what?" Colt challenges. "Come on, Rick. You got something to say, then say it to my damn face."
"It's obvious, son." Benjamin places his fork on his plate, but it's too loud in the otherwise quiet room. The tension is so thick that Colt could cut it with a knife. He jiggles his leg up and down and clenches a fist around his own fork. The moment is father speaks again, he's taken right back to his childhood, and Dad's about to beat the demons out of him. "The girls shouldn't be taking advice from a faggot who dropped out of high school."
"Don't call him that!" Ken snaps. His face flushes with barely contained rage. Colt almost forgot he was there. "He's your kid, and this is how you talk to him? What's the matter with you?"
Benjamin clenches his jaw and waves a dismissive hand. "You. Why don't you shut the fuck up? This is family business."
"How very Christian of you," Ken retorts. "I bet you're real proud of yourself. And for the record, I am his family."
Colt places a hand on Ken's knee. Is he about to get beaten? No, he can't be, he's an adult, Dad can't - but Dad's fists are raised and is this another exorcism? No, it's two days before Christmas and he doesn't live here -
He doesn't know how he ends up on the sofa in the living room. Ken kneels in front of him. He's saying something, but it's coming out gibberish. He tries to read Ken's lips, but his face crumples and he shakes his head.
"I fucking hate them," Colt whispers. "I really, really fucking hate them."
"I know." The other side of the cheap couch dips as Ken takes a seat next to him. The hand on his back grounds him, if only a little. "Look at me, honey. Watch me, and take a deep breath."
But he can't. He can hear his father and sister scream in the dining room; he thinks one of his nieces is crying. This is all his fault.
"No, it's not," Ken says softly. "It's theirs, Colt. It's not your fault they're bad people."
But it is. He's always been too much. Too hyper, too talkative, too daring, too different.
He wants to go home, but he can't.
The idea of getting off the sofa is too daunting.
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bluespecs14 · 5 months ago
Text
Threads and Bandages
Summary: Davey asks his sister for help to make a gift for Reader.
Warnings: mentions of bandages and (sewing) stitches, possibly ooc characters, use of (Y/N)
Word count: 1,008 words
-----
“Sarah, I need your help” Davey suddenly announces, breaking the silence in the room.
The girl raises an inquisitive eyebrow, “help with what?”
He goes to sit beside Sarah, pausing to take a breath before speaking again, voice shy but determined, “I want you to teach me how to embroider, please”
Sarah stares at her brother, surprised, before adopting a teasing smirk, “why? You want to make (Y/N) a gift?”
Davey straightens his back, becoming more resolved, “yes, actually. I wanna embroider a handkerchief for her”
“aww look at you being all sweet” Sarah teases, giggling as Davey throws her a look, his cheeks and ears tinged pink. “alright, alright, I’ll help you. Do you have an idea on the design?”
“yeah, I read some books on embroidery designs and took some inspiration from them,” he pulls out a scrap piece of paper from his pocket. It was littered with half-finished doodles of swirls, flowers, and stylized initials. One in particular looked finished, although the marks of repeatedly erased lines, replaced by bolder pencil strokes, were evident, “I also asked for some tips from Buttons and this is what I came up with” he says, angling the paper into Sarah’s sight and pointing at the finished design.
She takes the paper from him and looks at the design closely. (Y/N)’s initials were lined with swooping lines and foliage, some flower petals and leaves making up some of the letters’ structure, making them take on a pattern that was typical of the embroidery designs of the time but at the same time very personalized. Under the initials was a simple bouquet of leaves, vines and flowers, the vines curling around the letters in a circular pattern, effectively making a wreath, the flowers helping to add more detail.
Sarah makes a sound of approval as she finishes studying the sketch, “it might take some time to finish because you’re inexperienced, so I hope you’re not planning on giving it to her anytime soon.”
Davey nods, “I understand but I do want to give it to her as soon as possible”
Sarah smiles softly at him, “alright then, we better get started right away”
For the next few weeks, in his spare time, Davey learns the necessary stitches on a small piece of fabric with Sarah’s guidance. Eventually, their mother starts to help her daughter teach her son. When they deemed him ready, they instructed him to start on the actual handkerchief. Davey worked tirelessly, stitch after stitch, his fingers slowly being covered by bandages.
Weeks later, with the final stitch sewed on, Davey secures it and snips off the thread. In his hands lay the product of his efforts. His mother and sister sit with him, pride in their eyes as they watch him carefully pack the finished handkerchief into a small box and tying it with a ribbon, a smile on his face and excitement blazing in his eyes.
“Thank you, mom, Sarah, for the help, I really appreciate it” he says with a smile, placing a kiss on his mom’s head, “I’m heading out to the theater, I’ll be home later”
Grabbing the box, he leaves. As he heads to the theater, he thinks of what her reaction will be. He stops at the back entrance, nervousness filling his body. He shakes it off and enters, sending greetings to the staff he comes across as he walks to where he knew she’d be. The staff, already used to his presence in the theater at this point, greets him back.
Arriving at the sewing room, Davey knocks on the door, patiently waiting with his hands behind his back, hiding the present from her sight. A smile makes its way onto his face as she opens the door.
“Davey!” (Y/N) exclaims happily, “this is a pleasant surprise, I wasn’t expecting you, come in” she says after kissing his cheek, pulling him inside the room.
“Sorry for coming without warning but I wanted to give you this right away” he presents the box to her and opens it revealing the handkerchief.
She takes it out of the box with wide, wonder and joy-filled eyes, “did you make this?” she asks, looking at the embroidery closely, before looking up at him.
“Sarah and my mom taught me, but yeah I sewed all of it so some of the stitches are a bit crooked” he says sheepishly, “it’s not anywhere near what you can do but I tried my best”
“I love it and its beautiful Davey, thank you so much” she says before pulling him into a tight hug, her smile wide and her happiness palpable.
“I’m glad you like it” he replies, hugging her back as he mirrors her smile.
As they pull away, she glances at his hands. Taking a better look, (Y/N) frowns. Her gaze flits from his eyes to his hands, she makes a face full of understanding, knowing the pain all too well. Wordlessly, she kisses his bandage covered hands making his heart melt. Davey takes his hand away from hers and caresses her face as he smiles down at her. She winds her arms around his neck, leaning up and placing a kiss on his lips, one he immediately reciprocates.
“I love you” she whispers once they pull away.
“I love you too” he replies, his forehead resting on hers.
-----
Note: so this is a bit of a mix between livesies and 1992sies bc sarah but I was thinking of livesies!davey while writing. sorry if the characters are ooc, esp for davey and sarah. sorry if the ending was a bit flat, im still on a bit of a writing slump but i had some motivation to write and I didn’t wanna waste it. i was thinking of this being a side fic for the longer fic im still working on but it could still be its own thing. also I don’t know if i did the warnings right so if I could have done it better please let me know.
thanks for reading :>
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apomaro-mellow · 2 years ago
Text
Part 2
The queen walked around the ballroom, supervising the decorating and the arrangements when Steve started to descend one of the stairs.
"Mother!", he called out.
She jumped only slightly but met him with a warm smile.
"Mother, you have to call this ball off immediately", Steve said.
"Oh impossible. You can't stop these things once you get the ball rolling!"
She laughed at her own joke and slapped at her son's chest, while Steve did his valiant best not to laugh along with her. One thing they shared was their love of wordplay. But he wasn't going to get distracted.
"I told you, I don't want any part of this."
"Son, you know it's difficult to convince your mother of anything", his father came over to her side. He saw the offense on her face and quickly defended. "But in this matter, I think you should understand her-our side of things."
Jonathan, who had been hanging a floral wreath came down from the ladder. "I probably shouldn't say anything...."
"Probably", Steve and Genevieve said in unison. Jonathan had a habit of being the voice of reason. Which meant you could never tell whose side he was on until he spoke.
"Let's say the prince does attend the ball-"
Steve's chin jut out and he rolled his eyes anytime he didn't get his way. "You traitorous-"
"Let's say he goes. He dances. But if he happens to not connect with anyone...." He gave Steve a look, which his prince and friend understood.
"Jon, you're a genius", Steve said before turning to his mother. "I'll go. But if I don't fall in love, you'll let me find someone on my own. No matter how long it takes."
Genevieve's eyes were wide at the prospect and as always she looked to her husband for back up, but in this moment, Hensley was on his son's side.
"That seems to be the fairest option. You get your chance, and if it doesn't happen, then Steve gets his."
"I love you both!" Steve exclaimed and hugged them both before any other disagreements or concessions could be made. Once he was gone, the queen made a pouty face very similar to the one her son had made. Which she turned to Jonathan.
"If he doesn't meet someone tonight-"
"He will", Jonathan said quickly. "You know him. He's a hopeless romantic. Put him in the right atmosphere and he'll fall. I guarantee it."
----------------------------
The night of the ball was here and Eddie was brushing Jason's hair as he sat in a chair while Tommy was being buttoned up by Murray.
"Our family has always been known for its interesting men. I see no reason why the prince shouldn't fall for one of your charms."
Yeah right, Eddie thought to himself. They were about as interesting as a ball of lint.
"Now let's rehearse. You can't leave these things up to chance. How will you greet the prince, Jason?"
"I'll start by telling him how handsome he is and compliment his work out regimen", Jason grinned.
"You've never seen him", Tommy snarked. "How can you know if he works out?"
Jason shrugged. "Guys like hearing that even if they don't."
"A little white lie for an ego boost never hurt anyone", Murray said. "Thomas, what will you be doing?"
"People like being told when they're funny. So I'm gonna laugh at everything he says, even if it isn't." To illustrate his point, Tommy let out a bout of raucous and obnoxious laughter. To Eddie's ears, it sounded both annoying and joyless.
Murray didn't look pleased, but also not disappointed. "Well whatever you do, don't let any spittle fly from your mouth. And Jason you keep your know-it-all busybody habits to yourself. Royals don't like feeling like they're being manipulated. They prefer having control."
Suddenly feeling anxious about tonight, Tommy scratched at his ear, which Murray slapped away.
"Above all else, remember children what I've always taught you."
Jason and Tommy spoke in unison, "We hide our flaws until after the wedding."
"Okay, are you guys really going to do all that shit?", Eddie finally broke his silence.
Murray turned to face him and slowly stepped towards him. "And tell me...my dear....stepson. What would you say to entice His Highness?"
Eddie shrugged. Who knew what kind of person the prince was in reality?
Murray scoffed at his lack of response which prompted Eddie to open his mouth and say something.
"I don't know what I'd say. But whatever it was, he'd know I was meant for him and him for me." He put the brush down and got a starry look as he practically floated around the room, caught in a fantasy now. "We'd laugh at the same things. Real things. And when he kisses my hand he'll never want to let go. That's love. True love."
Even his stepbrothers were caught in his words, swooning a little Murray broke the spell.
"This ball isn't to find love, it's to find a husband! A meal ticket! You fall in love with love and you'll be falling flat on your ass." With a huff he rushed his two sons to continue getting ready, Eddie being forced to help with the preparations.
All the while Murray regaled them with a very vague tale of him falling in love and losing because of it. Eddie was so sure it was an extremely sad story but it was hard to feel sorry for a guy who took his heartbreak out on other people.
Once they were ready, the went out to the carriage, somehow making noise the whole way. It only got quiet as they drove away and then Eddie was alone.
He wouldn't admit he was lonely. No, fuck that. He was better off alone. Not in a 'true love doesn't exist' way. But in a 'it's better to be alone and only disappointed in yourself' way. Eddie went back inside and closed the door behind him.
Well, better get on with the rest of his night.
Part 4
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rinseveryday · 1 year ago
Note
Hello! I have so many thoughts and theories in my mind, especially I want to ask you the one. What do you think about the Demon King Rin? In the last chapter we saw how all pieces of the puzzle is coming together....
Hello! Thanks for the ask! I also have so many thoughts, please ask away anytime.
Massive spoilers for chapters 139 (138? I don't remember) and above!! Putting my response under the cut because it is long :> Like, I had to sit down for over an hour, long.
Demon King Rin my beloved boy
You know what's funny about life is that I fell in love with him way back in 2013, and he ended up becoming exactly my type of character 10 years later. I kept up with the series, but I discovered my tastes through other media so it was a huge shock to me when Demon King vigilante Rin shows up in canon. I was/am OBSESSED with the anti-hero or jaded hero types, like Daredevil and Deadpool just to name a few (I had a Marvel phase) as well as serieses like Devilman and Chainsaw man on the anime side. A monster with a human heart, bonus points if they live in a world that doesn't accept them. Now why am I talking about other shows? (Bc I wanna, that's why)
Well, Blue Exorcist didn't start as an adult rating, morally gray, anti-hero series did it? It was a fun, cliché Shonen show for teens set in an academic setting with all the typical school festivities and classmate crushes you can expect. Kinda different than Daredevil. But it's slowly been creeping towards darker, more serious topics over the years because Katoh's specialty lies in her ability to twist clichés into her own thing. AoEx's plot runs a lot deeper, and more sinister than your typical devil shonen manga. I still see a lot of theories about AoEx that still think it'll follow a Shonen plot, though, where the end will be a big fight against Somebody and then they'll all go home, become exorcists, and move on.
But really, Katoh's already said that Rin is a character that, if she's not careful, becomes real dark, real fast. I bet she had been wanting to add an anti-hero plot to the story for a while. He's no Naruto. He is the fox.
And so, newsflash! Rin's biggest antagonist isn't a demon. It's himself. Not demon!Rin, but Rin, as a whole. The plot isn't anywhere near being finished. Right now he's not the Blue Exorcist quite yet. He's a guy (level of humanity questionable) wreathed in the flames of a demon god. The day where he must choose between Assiah or Gehenna, is coming closer.
We see in the timeskip chapters a world where the current day has become Rin's tragic anti-hero backstory. Where he made choices that led him away from his human allies. Where he chose to embrace his demonic nature and fight against the corrupt human organizations.
I used to think that someone else was leading Rin, using him as a puppet leader of a resistance with his friends kept away as blackmail. Because how could Rin be so organized as to lead any sort of resistance right? Did his friends die which made him go rogue? What did Paku see? Was it related to Rin's reasons for becoming the Demon King?
However, now with the things Rin brought up in the most chapters, I don't know. I still find it hard to believe Rin would lead anything, but maybe he was just doing his own thing and the demons followed on their own *shrug.* If Rin's friends were still in the picture, he'd go to the ends of the Earth to get them back. So that leaves us with either a) they're dead or b) he chose to leave them.
People wear masks to hide. He doesn't need to hide his identity because his flames give it away so... Maybe he's hiding from shame.
His face went from sad to blank when he realized Paku was around. Rin Okumura? With a blank face? Our Mr. Wears his heart on his sleeve? Dude who cries from manga and slaps his knee when he laughs?
The blank face is a coping mechanism, just like the mask. He's probably disassociating so he doesn't have to deal with the painful memories she brings. Memories of his friends... Memories of being human.
Which brings us to the question, What did Rin remember when he woke up? I have a feeling he never reconciled with his demonic nature in that future, which led him to be at odds with exorcists. (RIP Malchidael Miku, you were too annoying to live). He probably didn't see the same future Mephisto did, but considering he does have all the same powers Satan does, he definitely saw Something.
Rin is right in that he was wrong to cage his so-called "demonic side." Or, if you read the raws too, he called it the "demon me." Everyone has anger and violence and desire and scorn in them as part of their survival instincts. That's not even a purely "demonic" thing. Rin forces the embodiment of those feelings, demon!Rin to yield and stay put. He doesn't understand why demon!Rin lashes out so strongly nor why he wants to take over.
Uhmmm sounds real healthy right? *Checks watch* demon!Rin should be back any chapter now~ It really begs the question, is demon!Rin the evil one for wanting to break out? Or is human!Rin the evil one for forcing demon!Rin to keep seething in jail?
Going back to the topic, it seems that Rin doesn't want to become the Demon King this time but he also isn't sure what to do. He knows he needs to do something about his burning questions and he knows the key to truly taming himself lies in knowledge and understanding. He has only caged himself, and has yet to reach Yuri's level of taming. Demon!Rin will come back. He'll always be there to protect Rin when he needs him the most.
While I sure love me some villain and anti-hero AUs, I do hope my beloved Rin Gone Wrong to stay in those chapters. He deserves a happier True Ending than becoming a Demon King 🤧
Well, there's some of my thoughts on Rin as Demon King and the plot. This got super long and was actually longer before I cut out all the unnecessary rambling.
Tl;dr he scares me
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anechomirrored · 1 year ago
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Prompt: "Okay, show me."
Fandom: fnaf Security Breach
Rating: T
When your roommate, Jess had started a new project in the garage, you hadn't questioned it.
Not at first.
The usual clank, clatter and banging that permeated the evenings while you prepared dinner was unremarkable at best.
She spent most of her free time out there, or in front of the TV anyway. You weren't one to complain, it meant she was focused on that and not how far behind you were with the housework.
She had been very critical about that lately but her job was high stress. It made sense things like dirty dishes and undusted knick-knacks would bother her more.
You just kept you head down, worked cleaned and paid the rent on time.
You were just pulling dinner out of the oven when an unholy screech erupted from the garage.
Your roommate was on her feet in seconds. A string of curses leaving her lips as she raced to the door.
"What the hell was that?" You called after her sitting the pan on the stove before turning off the oven.
The slam of the door was your answer. It wasn't until another matallic screech split the air that you raced down the hall after her.
You heard a shout and cried out her name on reflex.
Was she hurt?
Throwing open the door you barreled into the room and then froze.
Jess stood there, in the middle of the room breathing heavy, a perculiar device in hand and crumpled on the floor at her feet was a twisted pile of metal.
"What-"
"Go back inside!" She snapped turning to fix you with a glare.
"But what is-"
"Forget it and go back inside." Her tone left no room for argument.
You took a step back hovering in the doorway, when the pile of metal on the floor moved.
It looked at you in fact, with white vacant eyes. Looking at it properly you could now make out limbs, a mechanical arm a leg half covered with dull yellow casings. It had all these little triangles wreathing its head like flower petals. You opened your mouth but no sound came out. The twisted metal creature on the floor of the garage twitched and garbled static that sounded almost like a question. I tilted it's head, broken face smiling. Then looked up at your roommate and cowered.
"Dude, what the -" your voice came out strained but not as bad as Jess's
"It's just a pet project!"
"You built an atonamaton?"
"I found it...at the dump and it's an animatronic not an atonamaton." She said almost offended by the thought.
You blinked, and looked back at the tragic looking heap at her feet. You didn't know the difference and right now didn't care.
"Where'd they come from?" You asked stepping forward into the room.
The animatronic looked from you to Jess and back and struggled to crawl away.
"I told you, the dump. Careful it's unstable. This is the first time it's come online." Jess getured with the hand holding the tool and once again the animatronic flinched.
"Put that down, Jess. They are scared of it." You say stepping closer.
This time they didn't move back but rather, tilted their head and again and garbled static at you.
"Yeah but who built them?"
"I don't know...I think it is one of thise creepy pizzaria ones. You know the one that burnt down a few year back?"Jess lowered the tool slightly as you crouched down.
You had heard stories about that place. There had been one like it a few towns over from where you grew up. A lot smaller but still creepy. A whole mall like that sounded terrible.
"Hey, you're okay." You held out a hand, only now realizing you were still wearing oven mits.
Those white eyes glowed very softly,n ow that you were only a few feet away. The creature made no move towards you but it didn't scramble backwards again either.
"Huh, doesn't seem to mind you." Mused Jess, watching you thoughtfully, "It's gonna take a lot of work to fix this thing up. Wouldn't hurt to have an extra hand."
"Seriously?" You asked.
Jess never wanted help. They pointedly shut you down anytime you had taken in interest in their work. Looking at her expression you could tell she was serious though. You looked back at the animatronic across from you.
"Okay, show me. Show me what to do." Those white eyes flickered a bit, making you start
Jess laughed behind you.
"Alright let me pull up those blueprints! I am pretty sure this one is called Sun."
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hiccanna-tidbits · 2 years ago
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Jackunzel February Special Week 4 - Winter Winter in the City
Sure, a festive sleigh ride through sprawling fields, rolling hills, and quiet, snowy forest might not be an option, but Jack and Rapunzel can still find ways to enjoy a very urban winter.
It turns out flirty and needlessly-intense snowball brawls are just as much fun at the bus stop or in the city park as they are in a frozen-over meadow. As pleasant as braving woodland trail with a thermos full of hot chocolate might sound for some, it’s equally as delightful to stroll along snow-adorned neighborhood streets, house never too far in case you need cocoa refills.
And that’s to say nothing of the decorations and festivals and cheer. Shop-lined streets could very well be wild countryside, for how many Christmas trees, holly boughs, and pine wreaths line everything in sight. In all honesty, nothing feels more lively than the darkest, coldest days of the year, with the city air filled with singing and laughing and bells and the smell of gingerbread and peppermint and wassail. There are few places better for a wintry adventure than a line of cheery gift shops with snow-covered awnings--and no place where you should keep a close eye on your bank account, for that matter.
But one year, Jack and Rapunzel’s urban winter is different. There’s snowball fights and hot chocolate and fireside storytelling and tacky Christmas gifts that break the next day, of course, but this time, something seems to have shifted by the time spring rolls around.
It probably has something to do with the fact Jack and Rapunzel have fallen back into the hand-holding habits they had as kids, insisting it’s only for warmth because “this winter is especially frigid.” Or maybe the fact they dozed off on top of each other mid-holiday-movie marathon one too many times. Or perhaps something related to them both separately paying a visit to the city’s biggest candy store and purchasing a heart-shaped box of chocolates for the other “as a joke.”
Either way, it turns into a spring of kissing under blooming trees. And they have a feeling they’ll still be doing it when next winter rolls around.
***
YOOOOO, last Jackunzel February Special submission!!! Alas, all good things must come to an end :( But there seems to be a Jackunzel revival as of late, so rest assured that the shameless Jackunzelposting will not be stopping anytime soon :P
Anyhoo, I have all these winter city pics that I’ve been saving basically like. As long as I’ve been making Jackunzel moodboards. And I have so many saved up I do what I always do and am like “what if I made a themed moodboard about it???”
...and so I did XD
I do love the idea of Jack and Rapunzel living in a big city, though. They seem like they’d live for the energy and liveliness of it all, and would have a great time just walking up and down a busy street and people-watching. They’d also be the kinds of people to live in a city their whole lives and still try to hit every tourist trap in it, just to have the experience XD
Continuously enamored with the idea of them at some kind of holiday market and going on a shopping spree for nothing but festive knickknacks and wintry snacks while sipping hot cocoa, and then going home and redecorating their rooms with the most maximalist winter decorations known to man <3 <3 <3
Pic credits available upon request!
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wormholxtreme · 11 months ago
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Say nice things about 3 random people you want to write with more and tag them xo spread the love for sure
Let Me Tell You You're Pretty | Always Accepting
@denydefeat I mean I could talk about YOU but I think that might go against the spirit of the ask LOL
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@wnterslder I've seen Pat from afar so very much because she follows some of my tumblr babies but I have such a hard time coming up with any plots or ideas that I sit in my corner and watch her on the dash.
She is so wonderful. Just how much positivity she tries to post and how much she interacts with people on the dash. Listen that shit is hard. I try to do it too and I often feel like I'm annoying. But anytime I see her in the replies or likes of my own affiliates it brings me so much joy to see someone out there just doing their best to bring love to their followers. And don't even get me started on the actual writing and musings of Bucky. I just love seeing some of the things Pat has come up with. Definitely worth the follow.
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@marvelmyriad listen Nyx is an amazing writer I cannot stress this enough. We've had some chats OOC and she is just the sweetest thing. I would love more time to chat and get to know her and ultimately just find a starting place to write but haven't really gotten around to it yet.
I hope she knows that she is a treasure and I hope she knows that I am down for anything she wants to throw at me. I'm sure we'll get there one day. Life is just busy, but she is just too talented a writer and wonderful a person to merely stay as mutual without writing. Listen I brought in V for you and JJ it's gonna happen one day okay???? I adore you!!
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@americasdaughter Tara is so sweet like we've chatted OOC and she made the prettiest wreath christmas icon for my tumblr wife and I just adore it. She also is up in here with an MC2 character that I wanna throw my Kaylee at so bad but I just haven't yet. Look I'm more shy than I seem okay like all this reaching out to people lately has been me actively going against my nature ANYWAY
I just love seeing Tara and Liberty on the dash. I love how easy going and lovely Tara is and one of these days my muses are gonna bust all up in there if that's okay??? Like I just really want to write and chat and plot with you so much but empty head is empty. In any case I really do love that we are mutuals and that we've gotten a chance to talk because you are just the sweetest bean.
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firewoodfigs · 1 year ago
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♥️ and 🎨 for the ask game :)
❤️ What is your favorite line that you’ve written in a fic?
oooo!!! off the top of my head (and only scouring very recent fics/poems that i've written, which is to say not a lot), it would probably be:
sweet tea in the summer / cross your heart, won't tell no other
That summer, the desert barren, swollen with grief; dreams of glory frayed and worn. 
a study in reformation (chapter 7)
"Goodnight, Riza. Sweet dreams.” A chuckle, a prelude to something ludicrous. “And by that, I mean you have my permission to dream about me.”  “That would be quite the nightmare, wouldn’t it?” A noise of protest, feigning injury. Her smile doesn’t waver. “Goodnight, Roy. Thank you.”  “Anytime.” 
also i think there was a line i wrote in an earlier chapter that was something like "maybe it's simply a proletariat's fate, to trade impractical dreams for rent money" that was entirely personal lmao
i wove a wreath to keep us from death's tender breath
I wove a wreath to keep us from death's tender breath / a peace lily, settling in grief's buoyant sea.
also these are some lines from a song I'd originally intended to finish recording for royai week 2023, but will probably only get around to doing so in august haha...
in this dream, you were / shimmering / aurora in spring / chasing brass rings / wasn't worth our weight / in gold ... but all our wishes upon tarnished stars / have bled into / catastrophe and war / claimed our youths / and maimed our truths
🎨 If someone were to make fanart of your work, what fic or scene would you hope to see?
OOOOO omg honestly i adore fanart in all forms, but if i had to pick -- there was a scene in the latest chapter of the college au / ch. 7 of a study in reformation that really started out as a film scene in my head. specifically the scene where roy and riza were hanging out at the party alone, gazing at the party crowd uncomprehendingly as they lean back against the cluttered table of drinks and re-evaluating what they know about each other, with roy being all like "there's a lot you don't know about me, and i'm sure there's a lot i don't know about you, too" LIKE. to be known is to be loved and we are slowly getting there >:)))
honorary mentions go to: (i) the scene in sweet tea in the summer / cross your heart, won't tell no other where Roy braids Riza's hair after she gets ridiculed at school, and she sees her mother's reflection in her cup of tea; (ii) the scene in and if this is the long haul, how'd we get here so soon where they're sitting on a bench in the amestrian version of coney island, staring at the ferris wheel forlornly like it's a reel of everything that could've been, if they'd been unmaimed by their sins; and (iii) the scene in no matter the hearts you burn, in mine you shall always remain where Roy and Riza (and their gremlin child Ed) get shoved into traditional xingese garb by a herd of overpowering maidservants.
ANYWAY. I WOULD LITERALLY BE OVER THE MOON like these visuals lurk around in my head like film scenes but i am aesthetically challenged and incapable of drawing anything beyond stickmen unfortunately.
special shoutout to volvare for her incredible depiction of the balcony scene in memento amare and smoothshine for her breathtaking illustration of THAT scene in and you get lost when you're led by blind faith!!! y'all are insane and your art lives rent free in my mind <3
thanks for the ask, lovely! i had so much fun answering this one - have the best weekend!!! xx
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benignsnail · 10 months ago
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So Veggie: A So Flora Mini Challenge
A mini sims legacy challenge inspired by not so berry legacy challenge. Have fun!
Garlic: You grow up in Forgotten Hollow and find yourself reading one too many fiction books on occults. You aspire to have a book you write made into a horror screenplay. Your self-care consists of Scare Max and Sims of the Dead. And of course, you have a Midnight Massacre poster above your bed. Which isn't always the most romantic things to have looking down on you. Your partner insists on Woohooing in the shower more often than not, but you refuse to take it down.
Aspiration: Bestselling Author
Right a copy of every book before you publish it to pass down
Buy the great storyteller reward trait
(Optional) Spooky lot trait if you live in San Myshuno
(Bonus) Buy spooky stuff pack paintings
Submit to a literary digest
Win a starlight accolade
Read a book you wrote to the public
Never become a vampire (or make and drink the cure if you do)
Write primarily horror short stories (you are edgar allen poe)
Always have garlic wreaths up in the house
Go on a trip to Brindleton Bay for your honeymoon and get pregnant at the lighthouse
Peas: Eat your peas, kids. Then maybe you can have the refined taste palate of this sim. You love dinosaurs as a kid but not enough to pursue a career in archaeology. Instead you pride yourself on always eating your vegetables. You are determined to change the food world with this wonderful talent of yours, so not only do you join the culinary career, but you apply your knowledge as a food critic as well.
Aspiration: Master Chef [Does anybody else always read this as Master Chief???]
Traits: Foodie, Snob
Career: Become a Sous Chef, write a cookbook, quit and become a Food Critic
Bemoan lack of banana for scale while dining out [the same way I bemoan the lack of bananas in game, plantains are not the same thing]
Earn Health Food Nut Lifestyle
Complete Experimental Food photo collection
Live in Oasis Springs near the dinosaur
Black Bean: Be gross? Yes please. Drink the milk out of the carton. So what if you're lactose intolerant. Belch. Fart. Release the gas. You just can't help yourself-it brings a smile to your face. And it's actually a bit admirable. You truly live life to the fullest with no shame.
Master mental skill as a kid and make a stink drink on the Beakers and Baubles Science Set
Buy shameless reward trait
Aspiration: Live Fast Teen
Love spicy food, always get food during festivals
Eat lots of beans and franks
Lactose intolerant
Plant a stink capsule in high school
Have so much fun you wet your pants because you can't be bothered
Buy something anytime you see a vending machine
Complete MySims Trophies Simmies collection
Spinach: You are gifted a doctor doll on your first birthday, and that's all you can dream of after. While getting fit in an effort to be able to run rounds and crack open rib cages, you have a crisis of heart. Should you be a doctor or pursue your love of sports? You never do decide.
Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast
Career: Doctor
Earn the Adrenaline Seeker Lifestyle
Play with the doctor doll as a kid
Climb up Mt. Komerebi and build on the secret lot
Try for baby in the ice cave
Teach a Ski Class
Drink protein shakes
Make a wish at the Ema Board
Swim in Mt. Komerebi's river
Determine the gender for your grandchild(ren)
Carrot: If there were cars in the world you'd be a car sim. You love taking things apart to figure out how they work. Your house is littered with bits and bobs and upgrade parts. You had every car toy possible as a kid and it still wasn't enough. Because you could never sate your curiosity about driving a car, instead you turn to building things. Nothing fancy, nothing modern, just a chair here a violin there. And if you're going to make it why not figure out how it works?
Aspiration: Nerd Brain
Eat lots of carrot cake
Upgrade everything in your house at least once
Craft your own violin
Master the violin
Master woodworking skill
Write a song
Buy a re-traiting reward potion and change your sim's whole personality for their midlife crisis
Move to Tomorang as an adult
Mermaid Kelp: Do you know Emily? Emily! You want to be like Emily. You live surrounded by water, but why can't you breathe under it? Who cares about legs, the little mermaid had it backwards. Scales and tails and fins, oh my. But why stop with yourself. Spread the joy! (You may cheat here for number 6)
Aspiration: Beach Life
Traits: Child of the Ocean
Complete shell collection
Have a beach club
Find a treasure chest
Make everyone in your club into a mermaid (have a mermaid cult)
Play fetch with a dolphin
Live on an Oceanic Paradise lot
Survive off odd jobs only
Kava: You've always been curious about your heritage. You mean to research your distant ancestors but you get caught up right away in Sulani lore. When you realize you can summon the Elementals, you have so many questions to ask. It's a bit disappointing to find out they don't have all the answers so you look to the next best place of mystery: the bottom of the ocean. Everyone needs to let off a little steam after working so hard taking care of the world. And you know just the way.
Conservationist Career: Marine Biologist
Traits: Inquisitive toddler, Child of Sulani, Party Animal
Party Animal Aspiration
Interact with Elementals
Go diving every Sunday
Reach gold hosting a kava party
Master dance skill
Marry a coworker
Teach your kid to swim
Dip infant's toes in the water in Sulani
Prairie Grass: You stay up late reading under the covers all the time as a kid. It actually kind of messes with your sleep schedule actually. And while books are fun when you're young, they get a bit boring after awhile. Too late you realize you could have been playing in the mud and splashing in puddles. But hope is not lost. You can squish all the fruit you want while the rest of the house sleeps.
Nectar Making Aspiration
Live at home your whole life
Buy a Restaurant/Store
(Bonus) Use a grow fruit as a fertilizer
Buy night owl reward trait and make nectar at night
Simple Living/Wild Prairie Grass lot challenge
Live on a ley line
Basil: I think, in the end, you are just too smart. Smarts are something to value for sure, but the what-ifs, the quantum possibilities-they really get to you. School is really hard. You talk to yourself more than anything and eat lunch away from everyone else. You try to play games on your phone to distract yourself from your running inner monologue but it doesn't last long.
Child Aspiration: Whiz Kid
Adult Aspiration Master Maker
Traits: Paranoid, Erratic, Genius
Make money selling candles and fabricated furniture
Live underground (you may go outside occasionally)
Write in a journal
Write a book about your conspiracy theories
Get really good at the pipe organ
Must have lots of handcrafted candles around the house
Get into fizzing
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jkcorellia · 1 year ago
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now that I'm getting to live my dream of playing a thaumaturge in Pathfinder, I've already got a wishlist of other PCs I'd love to play
water-wood dual-gate kineticist
aasimar human eye-catching spot/noble branch/victor's wreath exemplar (if, you know, all that survives playtesting)
storm-themed tengu ranger (stormtossed tengu, storm order druid dedication)
sparkling targe magus
witchy, ancient Iberian-themed, falcata-wielding fighter with ranger dedication
melee orc summoner with psychopomp eidolon
literally any monk, I can't pick cause everything seems so fun
I'm fine, I'm in control, I can stop anytime I want
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