#cloak hat and shoes

[swordmaid]

thinking shri’iia experiencing her first christmas or whatever the dnd equivalent of christmas/gift giving is in the surface (would menzoberranzan have one? I imagine it’s only a tradition amongst the nobles and anyone who can afford it) and she’s told she has to give a gift to the people she cares about and she should give something they would appreciate she’s just like why would they need any material beings when they can have ME ? 🤨❓

[nefarrilou]

Underworld Gods: Greek 🏛️ ⤷ Hades ⋮ Part 2

⌞ Top ⟶ Bottom ⌝

✦ Nyx ⊱ Hair | Veil | Dress | Necklace | Bracelets | Hands ✦ Keres ⊱ Hair 1, 2, 3 | Helmet | Outfit | Wings | Teeth | Feet + Face Feathers ✦ Thanatos ⊱ Hair | Veil | Outfit | Shoulder Plates* | Shoes | Wings | Scythe ✦ Charon ⊱ Skull Face + Shine | Outfit | Cloak | Hat | Claws ✦ Styx ⊱ [ x ] ✦ Skeleton ⊱ 💀

*Edited

C R E A T O R S

Nyx @simandy @strangegrapefruit

Keres @natalia-auditore @lady-moriel @tekri @sewersims

Thanatos @johnnysimmer @natalia-auditore @zouyousims @kleos-sims @clepysdra

Charon @natalia-auditore @obscurus-sims @zouyousims

[sh4nksslvt]

Say something

Straw Hat Pirates with a newly recruited reader who has selective mutism, appears unassuming but is secretly op

Strawhats x psychic!femreader ౨ৎ💗 ONE SHOT

tags: fluff, sfw, bit of angst(?)

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ffs a bit cringe

words count:968

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

You weren’t used to crowds.

And right now, that was a problem—because you were very much in one. A particularly sweaty, loud, and increasingly hostile one. The Straw Hats had docked at a lively but rough port for supplies, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, you’d gotten separated from the crew while browsing a small weapons stall.

Now you were surrounded by a group of sneering pirates, each one more obnoxious than the last, forming a loose circle around you like a pack of hyenas smelling blood.

“Aww, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” one of them leered, waving a cutlass lazily at your side. “Cat got your tongue?”

“She ain’t said a word,” another said, voice thick with mockery. “Too scared, huh?”

“She’s shaking,” a third laughed. “Bet she can’t even hold a sword properly.”

They were right about one thing: you hadn’t spoken. But it wasn’t fear that silenced you—it was them. Strangers. Eyes. Loud voices demanding a reaction.

Your throat felt tight. The words—simple ones, just leave me alone—were locked behind a door your mind couldn’t open. So you did what you always did when this happened.

You stared.

Expression blank. Shoulders loose. Breathing calm.

The mask of silence you wore never failed to make people underestimate you.

And right on cue, the biggest of the group stepped forward, cocky and smug. “C’mon, sweetheart. Say somethin’. Just one word.”

You tilted your head and blinked at him slowly.

He leaned in closer, thinking you were cornered prey.

And that’s when he made his mistake.

He reached out—fingertips brushing your collarbone, tugging at your cloak—like you were some kind of doll to poke and prod.

You whispered, barely audible: “Don’t touch me.”

He blinked. “What was that—”

And then you moved.

—

The first crack was his ribs.

You didn’t look strong. That was your favorite part about this whole thing. Small frame, loose clothes, no visible weapon. You’d always been dismissed as fragile, silent, soft.

But that was before your elbow shattered the man’s chestplate and launched him backward into a fruit stand. The market screamed and scattered. In seconds, chaos erupted.

Two more charged at you from either side. You twisted—agile, fluid—and drove a sharp heel into one’s temple while catching the other’s blade between your fingers. Not even a scratch.

He stared at you in shock.

You smiled sweetly.

Then bent the sword in half like it was tinfoil.

“Oh, she’s weird,” one pirate shrieked.

“Demon!” another cried.

You crouched low and pressed your palm to the ground. There was a faint ripple of energy, subtle and shimmering. A deep hum thrummed beneath the earth. Then the cobblestones exploded, launching your remaining attackers into the air like popcorn kernels.

Psychic force, compressed and sharp like a blade of wind. You didn’t need to speak to cast—just focus. Just want.

—

Across the square, the Straw Hats had heard the explosion before they saw you.

“What was that?!” Usopp shouted, ducking behind Franky.

“I think the market’s being destroyed!” Nami yelled.

“Could be marines,” Sanji muttered.

“Could be her,” Zoro said suddenly, eyes narrowing.

“Huh?” Chopper squeaked.

Zoro didn’t answer. He was already walking toward the noise.

—

When they arrived, the square was in shambles.

Stalls crushed. Dust everywhere. Six pirates knocked out cold. A seventh trying to crawl away with only one shoe and his pride in pieces.

And you—standing alone in the middle of it all, clothes scuffed but otherwise untouched, casually spinning a small rock above your palm with lazy telekinesis.

You looked up when they approached. Your eyes locked with Luffy’s first.

You expected him to be surprised.

Instead, he beamed.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” he yelled, running up to you like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time. “You exploded the GROUND!”

You blinked, unsure how to respond.

Zoro whistled low. “You’re stronger than you look.”

Nami was wide-eyed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You shrugged, still spinning the rock.

Robin tilted her head, looking more curious than shocked. “Psychic ability,” she murmured. “Very rare. You must have excellent control.”

Sanji, meanwhile, was clutching his chest. “Mon dieu… she flipped a man with her foot. I am in love. I am ascending.”

You rolled your eyes.

Chopper scrambled up your shoulder, stars in his eyes. “Can you teach me that thing you did with the sword?!”

You raised a brow, then made the rock hover in front of him. He squealed in delight.

Usopp ducked behind Luffy. “Can she read minds?! Wait—can she read MY mind?!”

You smirked. Then deliberately looked at him and said nothing.

He screamed and ran behind a barrel.

And through it all, Luffy never stopped smiling.

—

Later, back on the Sunny, Luffy found you sitting at the railing, watching the sea. The sun was setting, sky turning to amber and pink. You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt him sit beside you.

You glanced at him, then looked away.

He leaned closer. “You okay?”

You nodded.

“You don’t talk a lot,” he said, not as a complaint, just a statement.

You shook your head.

“But you can.”

You hesitated. Then leaned in, gently cupping your hands around his ear.

“I only speak when it matters,” you whispered.

He grinned. “It mattered earlier?”

You nodded again.

He sat back, still smiling. “Good. Then I’ll wait. ‘Til it matters again.”

You stared at him for a second longer. Then reached out, flicked his forehead gently with a little psychic zap.

He flinched. “Hey!”

You didn’t reply. Just smirked.

He grinned wider.

“You’re cool shishishishi,” he said.

And you finally let yourself laugh—quiet, barely audible, but real.

They’d seen your power now. The cat was out of the bag.

But you still had a hundred secrets left to keep.

And the crew?

They were just getting started.

a/n: idk if its just me but i love an overpowered reader, especially if theyre psychic ><

[thesimline]

The middle of the 1700s was dense with military conflict - the Jacobite Rising, King George's War, French & Indian War, and Seven Years War to name just a few. The advent of military uniforms in the late 17th century saw even further growth due to these conflicts. Armies now had distinct military garb, as did the ranks within them. As for the fashion side of historical costuming - while France maintained its internationally renowned reputation for ostentatious Rococo extravagance, England and America adhered to the more subdued Georgian standards of dress.

Banyans became popular for men to wear in the comfort of their own home as a form of undress or déshabillé. These dressing gowns were roomy t-shaped garments and those with wealth donned banyans made from extravagant brocade decorated with fruits and florals. One quirky influence upon fashion was the Commedia Dell'Arte, a theatrical form with origins in Italy. The colourful, distinctive costumes of the performers were widely depicted in art and were frequently worn by non-performers for masquerade, which in and of itself was a rising cultural phenomenon in the 1700s.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

PRUSSIAN GENERAL

Hat | Hair | Hair Colour | Top | Buttons | Medals | Baldric, Sword & Sash | Cane | Gloves & Pants (Base Game) | Boots

FRENCH COURTIER

Hair & Cravat Bow | Suit | Gloves | Sash & Hose | Shoes (TSR)

ENGLISH GENTLEMAN

Hat | Hair | Outfit | Cane

GENTLEMAN (DÉSHABILLÉ)

Hair (retired - direct download) | Hair Colour | Outfit | Hose | Slippers (Base Game)

VENETIAN GENTLEMAN

Hat | Hair | Mask (TSR) | Cravat Bow | Cloak (retired - direct download) | Suit | Hose | Shoes (TSR)

CLERGYMAN

Hair | Hair Colour | Glasses | Outfit

SCOTTISH JACOBITE

Hat | Hair (StrangerVille) | Outfit | Rifle | Socks (Base Game) | Shoes

ENGLISH OFFICER

Hat | Hair | Outfit

AMERICAN COLONIST

Hair | Outfit | Hose | Shoes

SAILOR

Hat | Hair | Scarf | Top | Pants (Growing Together) | Hose | Shoes

PERFORMER

Hat | Hair | Blush (TSR) | Ruff | Top | Pants (TSR) | Hose | Shoes (Base Game)

FARMER

Hat (TSR) | Hair | Scarf | Top | Hand Dirt (Werewolves) | Pants | Socks (Base Game) | Shoes

With thanks to some amazing creators: @the-melancholy-maiden @joshseoh @stereo-91 @historicalsimslife @bokchoijo @eggysimblr @theroyalthornoliachronicles @strangestorytellersims @plazasims @waxesnostalgic @natalia-auditore @peebsplays @madlensims @nell-le @wistfulpoltergeist @rustys-cc @its-adrienpastel @trillyke @simverses @ameyasims

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

On Rotting Planks

Part Six of The Pirate!AU. MDNI 18+, CW: some crass language, blood, death, and remnants of the smut from the last chapter. (We finally get back to sea!) ~3.5k words

The rest of the night passes as a blur of whispers and in bursts of stars. Jason doesn't let you rest until the candles have long since burned to the wicks, leaving nothing but stumps of wax.

Your bath was seemingly good for nothing, as he covers your skin in sloppy kisses, makes your body shine with sweat, leaves your thighs, and the bed covered in a mix of his and your releases. You try to lose yourself in him, in desperation.

But it's hard to ignore what's between you when his steady, gentle hands tighten around your thighs. When he crawls up your body to settle his hips against yours.

When he tells you he knows you wanted to get caught. That a city only a day and a half ride from the nearest port could have never really hid you from him for long.

You rake your nails over his back, catching scars, in an almost desperate attempt to get him to stop talking. He doesn't, not until his voice is raw with words of devotion and love and heavy feelings you don't know how to hold in your heart.

He doesn't fuck you into the sheets. He does something you would argue worse. He makes love to you. Over and over until your brain is mush and all that exists is him and the idea that he loves you.

Only then does he kiss your eyelids and entwine your limbs together. Only then does he let you sleep.

You don't wake until sunlight bathes the room in a warm, golden glow of dawn. Your husband snores softly, arm thrown over your waist. His face is relaxed, and he looks so much like he did back when you were first married, hair falling into his eyes and lips slightly parted.

The thought drives you out of bed, almost stumbling over yourself to get dressed. You're lacing your shoes and tugging on your cloak when Jason calls your name.

Your head whips towards him, but he doesn't seem bothered to see you dressed.

He lounges lazily on the bed, eyes half open, "You should wear the pin, treasure."

You hesitate, but it's a simple request. So, you pull the silver rose out of the pocket of your cloak, and fasten it to your hair. You leave the room without another word. You're confused that he lets you do this, that he doesn't offer any sign of resistance.

At least you are until you get to the exit of the inn and an arm drapes itself over your shoulder, "Going somewhere, Sweetheart?"

You shouldn't be as excited to see Roy Harper as you are. You hadn't realized you'd missed his easy-going smile so much, that it almost distracts you from the fact that he's guiding you away from the door and to one of the tables scattered around the inn.

"Harper," You breathe out, eyes darting for the rest of the crew, "I was only– I was going to look for an apothecary." It's the truth, you weren't planning on going far. You had only wanted something to prevent any accidents that may befall from last night.

His hands settle on your shoulders as he guides you to sit down in a chair, the rest of Jason's crew smiling and continuing their conversations without missing a beat.

"No need to worry about that. Just get comfortable, I'll get you your favorite for breakfast," Roy chirps, not acknowledging your attempt to leave at all. You stare after him as he saunters off.

It's disorienting, how they're acting, including you like this is an everyday occurrence. It's like your months away from them never happened. That it's just another morning enjoying food that's not from the ship's galley.

You've hardly gotten to center yourself when the inn falls to hushed whispers. Your eyes trail to stairs as Jason swaggers down into the dining area. He grins when his eyes land on you.

It's not the sight of his fabled dark red tricorn hat that makes your breath catch. It's not even the way his long overcoat seems to sweep across the room that pulls the air from your lungs.

No, it's the sight of red and purple marks bitten into his skin that makes your eyes go wide and your face feel hot. He didn't even attempt to try to hide them. If anything, he looks smug as he settles in the seat next to yours, resting his arm on the back of your hair.

"Jason, your neck," You hiss immediately, looking between his crew and him. They seem to be pointedly ignoring the telltale signs of you mauling their captain last night.

He seems to just grin wider at your embarrassment, "My love, I'd let you leave all the marks you desired on my skin, just so that I may carry you with me."

You laugh, out of pure disbelief, "You cannot be serious."

"It's a pleasure to hear you laugh, treasure, even better to be the cause of it," he says happily and seemingly more interested in playing with the threads of your cloak.

Roy sets down a large tray of food in front of you both before you can argue further, "Eat up, we best be leaving soon if we want to make port before noon."

He's followed by a few staff members, who place more food down around the table.

Jason haphazardly tosses a pouch of coins to the staff, and pushes a tray closer to you, "Enjoy, love."

The crew dig in, and the atmosphere of the inn relaxes for the first time since Jason appeared on the stairs. You eat slowly, too wrapped up in how easy it is to fall back into a rhythm with them.

Teasing, tales, and laughter sound around the table, and Jason's relaxed grin grows with every time you crack a smile at his crew.

You're so distracted by one of Kori's stories that you don't notice how you've fallen into step with the crew as Jason guides you towards the stables. It's not until he offers his hand to help you into your horse that you stop short.

"I wanted– I was supposed to stop somewhere," You start, trying to avoid the reason why you want to stop at the apothecary.

"All the necessities you could need are on the ship, treasure," he drawls, lifting you by your waist despite your protest, "and anything you desire we can find in the next port."

He doesn't give you a chance to argue more as he pulls himself onto his horse, and before you know it, you're on the road towards port, surrounded by Jason and crew.

They don't let you get too wrapped up in your mind, and you have a feeling it's to prevent you from planning any escapes. You're not sure how you could even escape from them, if you wanted to.

Donna has just left you in a fit of giggles, recalling how Jason had reduced a well renowned naval commander to a blubbering mess with just a point of his finger, (You're almost positive it's more fiction than fact) when the smell of the sea and the sounds of the city reach you.

The clear blue of the ocean fills your vision as your traveling party crests the hill. It feels like your heart gets tugged in your chest. You hadn't realized how much you missed the water. How much it had felt like home.

"Beautiful," Jason murmurs, as if it's only for you to hear. You turn to face him, but his gaze is already set on you. He holds your eyes for a long moment, then slowly turns to face the ocean.

You exhale shakily as you follow his lead into the city. He always seems to find a way to make your head spin.

The people mulling about the city have the same hushed awe as the patrons of the inn did. Jason– The Red Hood and his crew of Outlaws are well-known, respected, and feared.

Just the sight of his signature red leaves the crowds parting, leaving a clear route to the docks.

The closer you get to his ship the more eager he seems, you catch him drumming his fingers over the pommel of his sword, and he's off his horse as soon as you get to the docks.

"My horse," You start to ask, swinging your leg to lower yourself to the ground.

"Will be well taken care of by people we trust," he promises, threading his hand with yours to pull you towards the ship.

You let him, but it feels like your world is closing in on you. Your throat tightens, and you come to the stark realization that this is it. There's no way out, nowhere to hide.

Jason leads you right to the familiar sight of his ship, and you stop short when his boot hits the plank. You rip your hand from his, and his head snaps to you.

"I can't," You choke out, hating the panic that catches your voice.

He stares at you for a moment. It only makes your heart pound harder. He reaches for you, and you instinctively squeeze your eyes shut.

You wonder vaguely if he'll haul you over his shoulder again, the same way he dragged you from Gotham to the sea.

He doesn't.

He takes your hand gently and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a slow kiss to your knuckles.

You open your eyes in time to watch him reach into your cloak pocket and remove the shiny ring you've been keeping alongside the hair pins.

You freeze when he slides it onto your finger. "Treasure," he says quietly, "there is nothing to fear from me. From my crew. From my ship. It is yours as much as it is mine."

You are scared. You just don't think he understands of what. It's the fear that it could be perfect again. That it's so easy to believe in him and the family he's found for himself. It's the fear to trust in your marriage– in him again, only for it to all be ripped from you.

You don't know how to tell him, how to make him understand. So you follow his measured steps up the plank, and before you know it, he's shouting orders to haul in the lines, to cast off the dock, and drop the sails.

You stand at the railing the entire time, grip tight around the edge of the ship.

It rotates, who stands watch at your side. But they hover so close that you're sure that they're expecting you to jump.

You have no intention of jumping, not that you don't think you could make the swim, but more that you don't think you'd get very far before someone followed you in.

You watch the port grow smaller and smaller. It feels like something is ending, but the salt, sea air that blows at your skin is almost soothing.

You're pulled out of your thoughts when Artemis presses a telescope in your hands, "We're being followed."

You blink once, then twice, "What?"

She gestures to the ship, flying the colors of the navy off the ship's stern, "They're hardly a danger. A few months ago, they wouldn't have dreamed of–," She cuts herself off, like she's trying to save you the guilt, "You'll be safer below deck."

"Or," Roy says happily, leaning onto the railing at your side, "You can stay and watch us work."

You frown, as far as you're aware, Jason's ship is the fastest on the seas, "Can't we out run them?"

"We could," Artemis agrees, "but the captain is intent on refreshing our enemies' memories."

Roy pats your arm, "He's not called a pirate lord for nothin', Sweetheart."

"That title is ridiculous," your husband mumbles, inserting himself between you and Roy so he can hook his arm around your hip.

"It's good for inspiring fear," Artemis supplies, and you have to agree. Before you know who Red Hood was, the idea of an unbeatable pirate lord did sound foreboding.

Jason hums reluctantly, watching the naval ship grow closer, "Take over the helm, Roy." He turns his focus to you, "I'll escort you to my quarters, treasure."

"I want to stay on deck," You say quickly.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "It could be bloody, my love."

"I know," You tell him, but if you're going to be a part of this, a part of his life, this is a piece you'll have to learn.

He studies you, then gestures to Roy, "Stay with him. Keep a weapon on you."

You nod quickly, and follow Roy to the helm of the ship.

Roy doesn't question you, doesn't push, just cracks lazy jokes as the navy ship gets closer, "Commodore Bullock's been after us for years. Thinks he can get his big promotion this way. I think he's lost more ships to us than the entire navy combined."

The knowledge is reassuring, even as the ship sails parallel to Jason's, even as they shout for him to surrender.

Jason offers the sailors a wicked grin, points his pistol, and shoots. Your eyes go wide when the feathers set in the commodores hat explode into bits and pieces.

You have to stifle your giggles at how red his face gets, how he gestures wildly to Jason. Your giggles fade when the sailors start to grab ropes and swing themselves to the deck of the pirate ship.

None of the crew seems half bothered, and Roy draws his sword with all the rush of someone who just woke up from a long, relaxing nap. He offers you a dagger, but you pull your own, one you keep hidden under your clothes.

He grins at you, and turns to the approaching men. It's almost embarrassing, how easily Jason and his crew disarms and takes down the sailors.

It's like dancing, how they evade slashes of swords and duck under wide swings. They laugh as they trip their opponents, shout to each other how many they've taken out, making bets and teasing without a care.

It's almost fun to watch, until you notice how the men seem to be converging on you and Roy.

You'll be the first to admit, your little training with a knife was months ago, and Ted focused more on showing you how to throw a solid punch.

Roy seems to notice this, too, and he sets himself closer to your side, trading his sword for bullets.

But you don't quite realize how much danger you're in until a sound of wood hitting the railing draws your attention. The Commodore himself walks across the creaking plank, sword drawn and smiles dark and gleeful.

"If it isn't the Captain's whore. Quite a pretty thing. I can see why he abandoned the sea for you" he says, eyes raking over your form.

Roy, for his part, does try to get between you and Bullock. It only takes a wave of the commodore's hand to send a group of men to keep him occupied.

For as sloppy as Bullock seems to be with a sword, his years of experience outweighs yours, and terror grips your throat when he knocks your knife out of your hand.

It all happened too fast. He raises his sword, swings for your chest, and all you see is red.

The dark, telltale red of Jason's coat. He stands steadfast between you and the sword, his fingers wrapped around the blade.

You don't know if you want to cry for yourself, or over the sight of blood dripping down his hand and onto the steel.

"It seems as though the seas have forgotten how I earned my name in my absence. But do not worry, commodore, I will remind you," Jason says lowly, voice flat and full of threats.

The atmosphere on the ship shifts. Any fun and lightheartedness disappears. Silence falls, and Bullock visibly pales, stuttering out nonsense and pleas for mercy. You could only imagine what he sees. How dark Jason's eyes must be.

The commodore tries to pull his sword free, but Jason doesn't budge. A few of the sailors rush to help their commander, and then your world goes dark. Fabric covers your eyes, a bandana thrown over your head, you think, and someone pulls you back.

"You shouldn't have to see this," they murmur, and a steady hand settles on your back. It's the only thing that keeps you tethered.

You might not see what happens. But you hear it. Smell it. Iron permeates in the air. Begging and screams fill space around you.

It's a massacre.

It's evident there's no fight that the sailors can put up. There's no sounds of metal on metal, only the tearing of flesh, the thumps of bodies hitting the wooden deck.

You stay still the entire time, fingers clenched into fists, and sight obscured by the fabric throwing over your head.

Eventually, the screams fade, and are replaced by the sounds of splashes in the water. They're throwing the bodies overboard, you realize.

"Sink their ship, Harper," Jason's low voice makes your head turn. You want to speak, but the words catch in your throat.

"Aye, captain," Roy answers, and the safety of the warm hand against your back leaves.

You lower your head to stare at what you can see, the familiar wood that makes the deck of the ship. And the tips of Jason's shoes, stained with drops of blood. That's not so familiar.

"Can you walk," he asks softly.

You nod, fingers twisting into the fabric of your clothes.

"I'm sorry, my love. I would carry you but," his voice trails off. You appreciate it. You think getting blood on you right now would send you spiraling.

He offers you his hand, carefully holding it out to where you can see it.

It's the hand he didn't use to catch the sword, you notice, and it's surprisingly clean of any blood. You take it, and he squeezes gently, as if he's trying to reassure you.

He carefully leads you away from the helm, off the deck, and to his quarters. He helps you sit at the edge of his bed, "I'll be right back, treasure."

You nearly laugh. You're back where it all started. You hear him rustling in the closet, and then hear a door open and close.

You tug the bandana off your head. The room is empty for the moment, and you start to fidget with the ring on your finger.

You're not alone for long, Jason returns freshly changed and not a drop of red on him.

"Are you hurt," he questions immediately, walking over to kneel at your feet.

You want to laugh again at how familiar this all is. You shake your head instead and reach for his hand, prepared to see a deep, nasty cut from when he caught the sword. You're ready to clean it, to bandage it, to apologize for being a poor fighter.

But when you lift his hand, there's only a fresh scar.

"What–" You breathe out, the shock of seeing his hand nearly completely healed, pulling you out of your dazed state.

He winces, "I wasn't– I haven't told you the whole truth. About what happened to me."

You drop his hand, hurt flashing across your features, "What?"

He starts slowly, avoiding your gaze, "I didn't know how to tell you. Back when– when I was captured, I died."

"Died," You echo, almost hollow.

He nods a little and looks up at you, "Died. The League, the people that brought me back– I don't understand it completely myself, but I– when I'm at sea, my injuries heal. No matter how major, no matter how small, wounds that should be deadly, simply turn to scars."

"What does that mean," You ask weakly.

"Nothing," he says firmly, "it means nothing. It only makes me a better captain. It only lets me protect you better."

You twist the ring in your finger faster. It makes your stomach churn. He jumped in front of you because he can't die on his ship. He threw his life around, risked everything, because there was no risk. Not for him.

You're almost relieved that he was never in any danger. But you can't shake the thought that maybe he wouldn't have done it if there were actually consequences. You know it's unfair, but the idea grows louder by the second.

"I'd like to be alone," You murmur.

His face hardens, like he can see exactly what conclusion you've come to on your face, "Treasure, whatever you're thinking–"

"Please," You don't mean to sound like you're begging, but it slips out nonetheless.

He falters, stares at you, then slowly stands, "Very well, darling. I'll send Kori to check on you."

He hesitates for a moment longer, and then he leaves.

A part of you wants to break down. A part of you wants to cry the same way you did on that wagon. But you don't.

You stare out the porthole, stare at the ring sparking on your finger. Cannons begin to fire, and you watch as the commodores ship begins to sink. And for the first time in a long time, you don't have a plan.

Part Seven

[piratefern]

SWAP AU!!!

Implied Innuendo in the art btw teehee

Mentioned this one one of my last posts, thought I’d go through with it :3

This is a swap of the characters personalities, not environments/upbringings, and won’t swap things like sexualities or neurodivergencies, so Hasel is still queer, autistic and demisexual and Dyo is still gay and has ADHD

(however, Hasel in this au identifies with being bi and Dyo with being queer, as the labels were determined based upon their own schema and experiences and perceptions of the world. In the original au, Hasel doesn’t identify with specific labels as he doesn’t understand them, but Dyo identifies with being gay, so the feelings towards label’s would swap with their personalities :3)

Because of the personality swap, the progression and narrative of the story would be completely different

Hasel, on one hand, instead of being a doctor in his past life he would have worked in the theatre. This way him, his wife and his child would have died from the black death, however upon Hasel being resurrected by his child’s dying wish he wouldn’t relate the vine to being an illness, and because it was never his job to find a cure for them in the first place he wouldn’t have any reason to blame himself for their deaths, he’d rather just find it hard to cope instead. So personality wise he’d now go partying and drinking to deal with his issues and would likely be a functioning alcoholic, slightly different to original au Dyo who liked partying and drinking to cope with his immortality, but wasn’t an alcoholic. This Hasel wouldn’t be forging any sort of romantic or platonic relationship with others, and would be hesitant to get too close to people as he’s convinced the same thing will happen again, and being demi he wouldn’t have interacted with others that way either, making him entirely isolated. As a result he’s egotistical and boastful to protect himself, possibly more so than original Dyo. His feathers reflect Dyo’s style more and he’s still wearing the Tybalt shirt, however since he’s a bird monster (and it made the design more aesthetically appealing) he doesn’t have the undershirt or shoes.

He does, however, have bandages on his hands to prevent him from insta killing those around him. In the original au Hasel’s death touch and heal touch are narratively used in relation to him learning to accept his family’s deaths, as he believes its used to cure those with the vine, but it turns out the vine was only a guide for him to help or comfort those on their deathbeds. However, for swap Hasel, the death touch and the vine work better as a metaphor for Hasel learning to accept his family is gone, and instead of being enwrapped in death he should look towards the light, which works as swap dyo being this light as the death touch can’t kill a dead body/his vessel hehe

Dyo is this swap au is very reserved, his cloak resembling a jester hat and his clothes under the cloak being Alagaddian. He also has long hair which is always tied back (until when hes more comfortable being himself) and doesn’t have a visible mouth, (instead Hasel having a mouth to alter their expressiveness). A funny detail is that his handwriting is still really bad in the swap au so nobody can read his notes, not even him LMAO Dyo was invested in medicine and the field of science, studying what he could from odd textbooks that appeared from the pockets to Earth around Alagadda. He would have been chased out for the same reason, however he would have come to the conclusion about being manipulated by those around him himself having Hasel’s personality, rather than Hasel having to “heal” him in order to realise he was being controlled. This way he escapes by himself, but the link of Hasel traveling to Alagadda and fixing the portal never exist as he is never looking for a “cure”

Because of this, when Dyo arrives in Greece 2000 years in the past, he doesn’t forge a now identity for himself, he just doesn’t know who he is, and because there is no reason for the portal to be built he never finds out what that identity is, so his story is learning to come to terms with his amnesia and accepting that he won’t figure out what or where he came from. But because of this he is very reserved, he never got close to anyone, just like swap Hasel, as he doesn’t feel like he can trust anyone if he doesn’t even know who he is. So he travels searching for new discoveries where he can, usually in the fields of biology and botanical studies of herbs

But because of this, Hasel and Dyo don’t stick together, I know! Don’t panic, they just don’t travel together hehe. Since Hasel has Dyo’s personality, and because of Hasel’s environmental differences and circumstances, he has no intentions of being close with Dyo, and Dyo, being reserved and non trusting, has no intentions of being close with Hasel.

So instead of favouring my “they live throughout the ages together” narrative, the swap au favours the “they’re imortal beings that end up bumping into eachother every other era”, which is a dynamic I love, kind of like Riversong and the doctor (but thats more timetravelly), however its not based upon them at all ive only just thought of them now LMAO

So in the swap au, instead of Dyo following Hasel around and Hasel slowly warming up to his company, Dyo and Hasel now keep meeting at random times, slowly understanding they’re both immortal beings. Everytime they bump into eachother they stay travelling for more and more time, eventually they look forward to seeing eachother and think about the other when they’re away, and its eventually an unspoken mutual love between them, not officially dating but both only ever interested in the other

until eventually they go to split ways again. At this point Hasel can not deal with the relationship, he really wants to be with Dyo forever and, being immature, he doesn’t know how to express his feelings appropriately, he’s also scared he’ll lose him and terrified of the rejection that could ensue if Dyo doesn’t want to remain travelling together, so Hasel panics, in Venice, in the 19th century, near an abandoned house… and if this sounds familiar then you’ll know he seals him inside for the foundation to find two centuries later hehe

so eventually Dyo is collected by the foundation and so is Hasel, they realise they’re both there, Hasel desperately tries to avoid Dyo and Dyo desperately tries to talk to him because he is MAD, like REALLY MAD LMAO they fight, Hasel apologises but doesn’t explain himself, they start talking to eachother and reminiscing, and eventually Hasel talks to Dyo about an escape plan, that they could run away together, Dyo confronts him, he flings his arms open and a ring accidentally falls out of his pocket, you- you got married?! No! Dyo shouts, you stole that chance from me two centuries ago, I was going to-… I was going to ask you to stay with me. Forever. Hasel realises he has to be truthful about what he did, furthmore he realises exactly what he did, and that he was worrying about rejection for nothing, they make up properly, they try to escape, Dyo stops running, Hasel asks why? Because. He pauses, looking up at the cameras on the walls at the entrance, because they will always find us. There is nowhere for us to go, Hasel starts crying, he breaks down knowing hes right, he runs, Dyo follows after him into the woods, the floor outside is slick with rain, Hasel keeps running, Dyo follows, Hasel slips and falls

but he disappears where the ground should have been. Dyo grabs for the leaves on the muddied floor but theres no trace, he breaks down, confused; dragged away by facility guards

So he gets questioned, he doesn’t know where he went, he stays at the facility and is permitted to read books in the library, he tries to find out what happened, he finds a book on the pockets to alagadda and a conceptual portal to get back, he wonders whether he should even try to find him, but he wants to, eventually he’s forced to make friends in order to collect parts to make a portal, making him less ostracised, and once he does hes flooded with memories of his past, he shuts it off trying to cope, he has to jump through because the facility guards are closing in, his friends shut off the portal once he’s inside and burn the book, by his request.

im not sure what should happen between that but eventually he finds him, learns about himself and has to relearn his acceptance that he would never find out who he was, and “removes” his family from the throne, and he and Hasel live happily ever after as rulers of Alagadda to avoid the foundation, huurraaayyyy! And get married, hhuurraaaaayyyyy!

but yeah thats what I think a swap au of them would look like :3 Things like Hasel’s monster form can be fit in their somewhere n such :3 They both talk with the same accents and language, but their au counterparts swap the way they speak, so Hasel is more flirtatious and sometimes clumsy with his speech and swears more than original au Hasel, but Dyo is more eloquently spoken and doesn’t use crude language, but when he does it’s British rather than french lexis, cause hes not, well, french LMAO

[existence-is-a-pain87]

Chapter 1 - Scared and Alone, She Enters the Unknown

Content Warning: Huohuo panics, swearing, Poison Mushroom is eternally high

Blueberry Milk Cookie (Roleswaped Shadow Milk) and Melted Vanilla Cookie (Roleswapped Pure Vanilla). Neither appear in this chapter, or in the next few chapters, just wanna show yall how they look like as I'm a bit proud of their redesigns as they're the first I've ever done

All Chapters - Chapter 0 - Chapter 2

Huohuo is cold when she wakes up. That's her first realization.

The second realization is she's in some sort of forest, with tall and looming trees that make her feel twice as small as she is. The ground is covered in dead leaves, most with small pieces of bark and the rare blade of grass poking through the leaves that little the ground.

She's still in her Ten-Lords Commission uniform, from the hat to the shoes, and- much to her relief- Mr. Tail is still sealed to her body.

But he clearly isn't conscious. Meaning, for now, she is alone in this dark and cold forest.

So she gets up. No use moping around and waiting for something to come eat her, right? Maybe if she roams around, she can find someone who can help her.

Or just run into something that will eat her...

...let's not dwell on that!

Thankfully, she's easily able to summon her banner into her hands, meaning her blessing as a Pathstrider of the Hunt remains firmly in place.

She holds her banner close to her chest, the flag fluttering faintly in the soft breeze that fills her ears with quiet whistles. Shadows seem darker here, trees seem more twisted and gnarled, and every crack of sticks and crunch of leaves makes her flinch.

But it doesn't stir Mr. Tail. Huohuo doesn't know whether to be scared because she's alone without him awake, or relieved as he can't belittle and bicker with her.

She does trust Mr. Tail, especially since she knows he cares for her in his own heliobus-esc way, but she certainly knows he is not the best person to rely on for comfort. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Neither understand eachother, as opposite as they are, yet they exist together every day, comfortable in eachother's presence and knowing both care.

"..." Huohuo is quiet for a long time, before she quietly croaks out a, "Hello," with the hopes someone who's willing to help may here.

However, no one shows up. So she keeps wandering, stepping over stones and branches, crunching leaves underfoot, feeling the breeze kiss her cheeks...

It would be peaceful, if this forest was not ominous. Not threatening. Not making her feel so small and weak.

It is not a feeling she enjoys, even if she's used to feelings such as these.

"Hello?" She quietly calls out again, feeling totally alone now. She could wake Tail, yes, but...

...he wouldn't help right now. She believes that wholeheartedly.

Then another rustling is heard. Out of instinct, she dives behind a tree, hiding in the underbrush even if the flames of Tail make her far more visible than she'd like to be, especially within the shadows.

"Seriously? She somehow woke up before we could bring her into the tower?" An annoyed voice asks, clear as water itself as she sees three people walk into view...

Wait, one of them doesn't resemble a human. They look more like a borsin, with thick brown fur that has some leaves and burrs, glittering red eyes, curved red horns, and... a weirdly cupcake-like body.

...that's queer. Why does it look like some wolf-cupcake hybrid?

Also, why does it have a giant hammer? One made out of some sort of purple ropes.

"Well, we just gotta find 'er!" This cupcake-borsin declares with a grin, showing off yellowed teeth. "It can't be that hard, yeah?"

"Would she like shroomies?" The smallest person there, who has a hat of sorts that resembles a slightly damaged purple mushroom cap.

"Well, if she's half as loving as the rumors say, she probably would." The final person says, the first one who spoke, says. They wear some sort of dark purple cloak, although it's coated in patches of different colored fabric that's been sewn on with big and half-hazard stitches that make the entire cloak seem like a mess. "But first, we need to find her before Pomegranate Cookie finds out we lost her and rips us a new one."

"...a new what?" The little mushroom person asks, and you see their purple eyes with darker purple pupils that are... much bigger than a normal person's pupils.

"...Nothing, nothing." The one in the purple cloak says dismissively, and you realize they're carrying a giant scythe made of... cracked bones...

"We shoulda brought a Cake Hound." The borsin-looking one suddenly comments, causing the cloaked one to reel around and wave the scythe.

"Hey, you're Choco Werehound Brute! You're literally part Cake Hound! You sniff her out!"

"I dunno how she smells!" The... 'Choco Werehound Brute' says, frowning, "How would I sniff 'er out then?"

The cloaked one stumbles over their words, before scoffing. "Seriously, Brute, let's just find her already."

Huohuo shivers a bit, hoping they're not talking about her... She'd much rather not have weird people and a borsin trying to find her in this... weird and unfamilar place.

How'd she even get here? This isn't the Xianzhou Luofu, as the Luofu has no forests. It was probably thanks to that... weird and terrifying person, but how could they just... knock her out with a touch and teleport her away?

What are they? And what Path do they stride on? And... what was with them thinking Huohuo was this 'Cresstrella'? There's so many questions in her head, but no answers.

The borsin and cloaked person starts to walk away, but the mushroom one remains in place, meandering around this little clearing before looking over and noticing the weird cyan glow in the underbrush.

They tilt their head, and approach. Huohuo squeaks and moves back, panicking. Honestly, she's surprised that they took so long to notice her, but she'd rather if they didn't notice her at all.

"Why are you hiding?" The mushroom-person slurs out, and Huohuo realizes they aren't human. They're... too thin, with their skin not looking like skin. They have no nose or ears, as well as no fingers. Their eyes look more like circular candies, purple in color, and they just look... so human but inhuman, and it's terrifying.

"..?" They blink, staring at Huohuo as shakes like a wet leaf.

"...you look scared..." They mumble, reaching out to pull Huohuo out of the underbrush.

She reacts by screeching and sprinting out of the underbrush, the twigs dragging across her flesh and snagging on her jacket.

The mushroom creature blinks, standing still for a moment before waddling towards Huohuo. "Aw, friend... are you scared..?"

"I- I-" She backs up futher, before screaming and running away.

"Eh?!" The cloaked being yelps out as they and the borsin-creature immediately return, and Mr. Tail snorts awake. "He- hey! Who are you?!"

"Whaz happemin'..?" He mumbles, his flames flickering slightly as Huohuo tears through the forest.

"SOMEBODY, HELP ME!" Huohuo screams, legs shaking as she runs, making her feel like any moment she'll fall over. And she doesn't dare look back, her ears making the sounds of those... things... chasing after her painfully clear. "HELP ME!!"

"Wait, we're-" The borsin one starts, but Huohuo's quick enough to weave through the woods and lose them.

She gasps, collapsing onto the ground as Mr. Tail fully wakes up.

"What- Huohuo?" He detaches from her, his eyes wide, "What's going on?!"

"I- I-" She shakes, tears stinging her eyes as she looks at her hands, small scratches marring her palms and making them sting in the cool air. "I don't know! I just woke up, and- and-"

"...you woke up before me? How long have you been awake?" Tail's ears pinning back.

"..." Huohuo looks away, "I dunno..."

"Huohuo... how long have you been awake?" Tail repeats, voice more stern.

"...like twenty minutes?" She mumbles, flinching as Tail flares up noticeably.

"What!?" He snarls out, the glow of his eyes brightening as he's furious, "YOU'VE BEEN AWAKE TWENTY MINUTES AND DIDN'T BOTHER TO MAKE ME UP?!"

She squeaks, cowering. "Mr. Tail-"

"Why the hell wouldn't you wake me up?! Are you trying to fucking kill yourself? Do you want me to eat your fucking corpse?"

"Mr. Tail-!"

"Do you hate me or something? Trying to get rid of me? So what if I fucking ruined your life! It's been 46 years since you've had me as your tail! Get used to it, you little brat! Or I'll just leave you again!"

"TAIL!"

"WHAT?!" He roars out, baring his teeth, "What the HELL do you have to say?!"

"This is why I didn't wake you up!" She cries back, hot tears rolling down her cheeks, "All- all you do is scream at me when you're mad! Or tell me off when I get scared and force me into danger! I didn't want that right now!"

Almost instantly, Tail deflates. His eyes widen slightly, his mouth opening and closing as his mind processes her words. "...oh."

Huohuo lets out a choked sob, "Why do you always yell at me when you get mad?"

"..." Tail sighs, hovering closer hesitantly, "...I- I'm sorry. I just thought you were... trying to get rid of me. I'm as confused as you are, and... I... I'm sorry."

Huohuo sniffles, looking at Mr. Tail. She believed him, as he has never lied to... well... anyone before. And he has no reason right now. But... it still hurts.

"...it's fine..." She weakly mumbles, and Tail reattaches and helps her up. "It'll be fine. I- just..."

"Nah, I get your point." Tail tells her, "Honestly, if I were you, I probably wouldn't wake me up immediately either."

"Mhm..." She mumbles, looking around. "...where are we anyways..?"

"...yo-" Tail hesitates, "I mean... I dunno."

"..." Huohuo looks around, frowning. "...Hello, is anyone there?"

There's no response for a long moment, before a rustling from the trees above is heard. Huohuo and Tail look up, seeing another one of those vaguely-human-creatures staring down at her, this one with black hair with one single streak of white, wearing armor and a patchwork cloak. In his hands, the tip of the blade resting on the branch he stands on, is a sword with a glittering red gem in the hilt. One of his eyes is closed and has a long scar over it, and another scar is by the corner of his mouth. Both look like they were caused by one slash of a blade.

His only open eye, red in color, stares down at the two. He has no expression on his face beyond a slightly stern frown, but he doesn't attack.

They silently stare at one another, before nodding his head slightly.

"...Hello."

And Huohuo flops over, face first, into the ground.

[snakes-and-fluff]

I was staring too long at the outfits and started noticing little changes, so here's a whole post about that! (I don't mean the alterations to the straightjackets for guilty prisoners, I mean the other pieces of clothing.) ((And I won't lie, the logic for who gets to change when is a little confusing but in the long run I don't think it matters much.))

Both T3 guilties (that we have full art for.... haha...) haven't changed their underoutfit since T2, but did change it between T1 and T2 (there's arguable changes in that Kotoko lost her hat, I can't see Muu's earrings and both no longer have shoes but clearly that's a factor of their Guilty). Muu has a new skirt and shoes in T2, and Kotoko had new shorts and boots, along with that cap right out of Harrow.

Fuuta changed for all three trials, not just when he was Innocent. First he swapped out the long-sleeve shirt for a hoodie in T2, and now has swapped that again for a white undershirt and has new pants and shoes (though he has kept those hideous orange socks).

Yuno was Innocent twice and changed her outfit both times, getting a longer skirt and new shoes each trial, as well as changing up her hairstyle.

But Kazui was Innocent twice and only changed his outfit once - between T1 & T2, he lost his wedding ring and got new pants and shoes (and I only noticed they were new pants by comparing them side-by-side; they're clearly lighter but flipping between sprites I never would've been able to tell).

Amane has changed slightly in that she lost her hat for T2 and gained a new hat and... cloak(?) for T3 while losing her backpack, but everything else has stayed the same - same shoes, same socks, same shorts.

Mikoto is the only one whose outfit has remained exactly the same through all three trials with zero alterations (except now he's missing a single shoe).

While we're here, let's look at the missing three.

When Innocent, Haruka changed his pants and shoes. And of course, gained those hairclips from Muu.

Shidou's Inno caused him to change his gloves from black to white, gain a medpack and swap out his shoes and pants (though he chose a snakeskin pattern again).

Mahiru lost her shoes when Guilty, but due to the length of her straightjacket covering up her skirt, I cannot tell if it's changed or not (though it would be safest to assume it didn't).

[the-palelady]

i have a lot cooking right now, but i just had a loss in the family, therefore this is definitely self-indulgent! i apologize ♡

bloodborne is my favorite game of all time, so hunter!ghost lives in my head rent free 24/7

cw ; maid!reader, hunter!ghost, afab!reader, slow burn?, pining, reader is super timid because she has never seen the light of day lol, these two need to get laid tbh. this is an au, i know that isn't some people's thing so here is your warning!

Boots trudged through the entrance of the Queen’s chambers and ripped you from your thoughts. It had been lifetimes since someone had stepped foot inside Cainhurst Castle and seeing a Hunter of all things walk into the palace sent you flying behind one of the nearby pillars where you held your dusty rag to your chest. He was large, clearly well-toned under the hunter’s garb that he adorned. His face was obstructed by the cloth mask that covered his mouth, and the way his hat was tipped forward shielded his eyes from the scrutiny of others. If he were to stand even the slightest bit close to you, you knew he would likely tower over your cowering form. 

You had been a maid for Annalise, Queen of the Vilebloods, for as long as you could remember, long enough to have witnessed the fall of the Vilebloods, you and your Queen the only ones left in the castle. No one ever came and went, the two of you locked away and hidden from the outside world due to the one known as Martyr Logarius. Queen Annalise kept you privy to the details, seeing you as much more innocent than herself.

“I do not wish to defile thy pure soul,” she would always say, speaking to you in a tone so soft you could almost not hear her words.

You watched as the Hunter ascended towards the Queen, her voice booming throughout her chambers as they drew closer, introducing herself as the ruler of the now almost fully wiped out Vilebloods. From your hiding place, you could see the Hunter bow towards her majesty, their large form taking up your vision, and with that the Queen’s words became hushed, only meant for the ears of the Hunter she spoke to. You let out a soft sigh, and with your curiosity still eating away at the corners of your mind, you turned to continue dusting the candelabra that adorned the hidden chambers.

As always, you quickly became lost in your work, not noticing the slow steps that began to grow louder as they drew closer to you. The flash of metal reflecting the subtle candlelight is what ripped you from your focus. With your hand still raised, holding a rag to one of the candelabras, your eyes locked with another’s. They were as dark as the endless night that cloaked Cainhurst Castle, and as fearsome as they were weary. A thin strand of blonde hair poked out from underneath, bouncing against the skin of his forehead when he came to a stop.

He blinked at you with what seemed like a blank expression, your own clearly full of surprise and apprehension. The presence of another was unfamiliar to you, your only sense of company being Queen Annalise. Your worlds were also galaxies apart: you, a simple maid, and he, a hunter of beasts.

And yet you couldn’t have been more drawn to him than you were right now. He bore holes into your skin with his sharp gaze, skin aflame under the layers of your garments, and as he finally stepped away, you released the breath you were unaware you had been holding, the flames that consumed you now dying out.

But this wasn’t the last you had seen of this moon-scented Hunter.

He was now a constant in your life, seemingly appearing from the shadows from time to time, always approaching from behind, startling you out of your work. For a time, you didn’t think much of it, his towering figure slipping right past, making you jump almost right out of your shoes each time. But as you turned to investigate the culprit of your fright, you could see a quick glint of mischievousness in his eyes. It was gone faster than it appeared, but you knew what you had seen.

It wasn’t until a few moons later did your Queen request your presence in her chambers. The request was hardly foreign to you, but you thought it strange, even more so when the Hunter’s hat peaked out from the apex of the stairs leading to Her Majesty’s throne.

On instinct, you curtsied to the Queen as she kindly spoke out her reason for summoning you, “Our dear Hunter shall be joining us in our plight, wouldst thou show him to his chambers?”

When your gaze rose from the elegant rug beneath your feet, you could once again feel the piercing stare of the Hunter, his eyes following the graceful motions of your body as you bowed your head to Annalise, “Of course, your Majesty.”

And the two of you descended the stairs in silence, walking ahead of him to lead the way to the guest's chambers. The hairs on the back of your neck stood tall, goosebumps lined the length of your arms and legs, and your ordinarily refined sense of decorum began to falter at how close he stood behind you. His steps were as silent as they always were, the only sound echoing throughout the hall being the small heels that you wore, clicking rhythmically against the stone floor.

Decades seemed to pass before you arrived at the chambers. With a turn, your gaze diverted towards the floor, avoiding his at all costs. You could already feel those peculiar orbs on you, a raven following the path of its prey.

The collar of your dress was suddenly choking you, the fabric and ruffles rubbing your skin in a way that made you want to claw at it, tear it away. The seconds ticked on for far too long, the silence between you and the Hunter becoming unbearable. So with a slight bow of your head, you took your leave.

“Ghost.”

You were hesitant in taking another step, your bodies side by side, and yours glued in place. The sound of such a gruff voice threw you off guard. All you could do was blink, looking reluctantly around the room before letting out a soft, “What?”

You didn’t dare look in his direction, afraid that perhaps he would disappear again if you made the wrong move.

“My name. And yours?” Admittedly, hearing the curiosity in his voice surprised you.

Timidly, you stuttered out your name, a hum coming from underneath his mask.

You could hear the creak of the wooden door as it was pushed open, a click once it closed, and then you were left alone in the darkness of the castle corridor, heart threatening to leap from your chest. 

[arielluva]

so back in april i had the idea to draw ace attorney characters as if they were in fantasy life (so essentially combining two of my favorite games) but only finished phoenix then. tonight i finished up the page with some more, and since we know what the new lives in fantasy life i will be, i got the excuse to include vera as an artist :))

id under cut

[image ID: 5 digital drawings of some ace attorney characters drawn in the fantasy life art style, which is a very expressive, stylized chibi style. they are drawn in the outfits for different lives as if they were in fantasy life. in the top left, phoenix wright is drawn as a paladin, with text next to his head that says "Phoenix Paladin". he is wearing silver armor with gold trim, the trim forming a 'P' on his chest. the 'P' has a red gemstone in the center of it. his shoulder guards also have red gems on them. he has a long blue cape fluttering behind him, as he stands confidently, holding a sword in his left hand and holding up a shield with his right. the sword and shield are also silver with gold and red accents like his armor. next to phoenix, in the top middle, apollo justice is drawn as a blacksmith. he has text next to his head that reads "Apollo Blacksmith". he is wearing a teal apron on top of a white shirt and pants. his sleeves are rolled up, and he has a red piece of fabric tied around his waist. he is wiping sweat off his forehead with his right hand, and holding a hammer in his left. next to apollo on the top right, is vera misham. she is drawn as an artist, with text next to her head that reads "Vera Artist" she is wearing a pink beret that resembles her bandana, and has a paint brush with pink paint on the very top. she is holding her sketchbook in her right hand, and a paint brush in her left. she is wearing brown gloves that are stained with various colors of paint. she is wearing a pink dress with a darker pink collar and bow, and the skirt of the dress has a darker pink line going horizontally across it. she has a white apron tied around her waist that is also stained with various colors of paint. she is wearing brown sandals. on the bottom left of the drawing is trucy wright drawn as a wizard, with text next to her head that reads "Trucy Wizard". she is in an excited pose, running while holding her staff, a tall wand with a glittering green gem on top. she is wearing a light blue pointy witch hat with a white ribbon wrapped around it. the inside of her hat is pink. she is wearing a medium length black dress with a white belt, and she is wearing pointy white shoes. she is wearing a light blue cloak, with the hood on her shoulders, that has her green diamond brooch hanging where the ends of her hood meet. her cloak is fluttering behind her and trimmed with white and gold, the insides if her sleeves being pink. on the bottom right of the image, ema skye is drawn as an alchemist, with text next to her head that reads "Ema Alchemist". she is wearing gold goggles with pink lenses, and her hair is drawn more poofy than usual. she is wearing a white coat over a light green dress. she has a pink tie loosely around her neck, and she is wearing a darker green corset with gold buttons. her shoes are plain black. she is holding a potion bottle filled with a yellow liquid in her right hand, and is looking at it calmly, with the left hand in her white coat's pocket. end ID].

[glassladyoftheopera]

In Stars and Time as a Musical Follow Up: Costumes

Okay, a topic I may have enough thoughts on to make a full post about; costumes! (and a little bit stage craft in some places.)

This is mostly about what people would do if they wanted to actually put on a live version of this, versus treating it like a concept album. I am however going to mostly ignore cost restraints outside of like, truly ridiculous stuff.

So first, some general notes.

The color palette: we will still have all of the costumes and sets be in grayscale, with the red used in the 'say it's name' and Act 5 sequences probably mostly being done through lighting. We will not have the actors use skin paint though. I'm not that mean. The audience can buy the idea that the world is meant to be black and white just fine without it.

Materials: I would avoid overly synthetic looking fabrics to maintain the 'vaguely fantasy medieval' vibe, but I wouldn't worry about using actual natural fabric. Comfort and cleaning are higher priorities.

Ensemble: Not much to say about them! Just that the production would have to be careful to make sure everyone is in truly neutral grayscale and not let too warm / cool of grays slip in.

Okay, let's talk characters.

Siffrin is tricky basically every option for interpreting the cloak has it's own pros and cons. Having sleeves means better movement options for the actor, but they only show up in a handful of images in the game. Full poncho means we get Full Triangle Vibe, but it would hamper movement a lot. Cloak with a pinned closed front means we see more of the rest of the costume more often, which I wouldn't mind, but it does break up the classic triangle silhouette. It's honestly still my pick though. Then there's the eye patch. I know some shows just give characters eye patches, and as long as you're careful staging the dances it will probably be fine? But I assume semi-mesh eye patches for performers are a thing, so I'd try to find one of those. Lastly, hat. It probably couldn't be as absurdly big as in game without casting major shadows we don't want on Siffrin's face, so they'll need a slightly narrower brim and we'd keep the hat pinned in a more back position.

Mirabelle's outfit probably wouldn't need to change much, but her little fingerless gloves would need some reinforcement at the top to keep them from falling down her arms. There's also the matter of her needing to have her sword with her most of the show; it might need to be a little smaller than a true rapier, but Shakespeare shows have duels and such so we can make something work.

Odile wouldn't be particularly difficult to costume as long as you don't make her sweater / jacket too heavy and put some straps on her shoes. Fake glasses aren't hard too bad, but some rigging in the back to keep them on will be helpful.

Isabeau I'm sorry but your sleeves have to be a little less gigantic, it will get in the way of the audience being able to read your gestures / get caught on stuff. They can still be long and loose though. Also, in real life the stripes on his pants being that wide could be an issue in terms of reading where he is on stage with the set / looking kind of goofy, so I might make them just a bit thinner.

Bonnie... I do not know how to make your weird pillow hat work in real life. For most game accurate version you'd have to make it completely from scratch. Something like a beret in terms of construction but... big. And probably held up internally with stuffing and wire. The alternative would probably be a big sunhat, and if you want to include Bonnie getting a new hat just slightly redo that scene to find something else that's similar.

Heck yeah its time for Loop! Now, we're definitely not doing a full star head, that wouldn't let the actor do any of that good emoting. But! I think a lower face mask could still work. You might have to hide the actor's mic under there to make sure they could be heard, but it's definitely possible. They would definitely need a custom wig for spikiness, plus a star-like head piece to top it off. Now the rest of it... I mean, you could go full body suit. I'd probably do that as the first choice, though maybe adding a wispy loin cloth or tie around the middle for modesty depending on your performer / venue. But! Different productions could get really creative with it, as long as the base still has them black and covered with stars and there's the star in their chest. Add in some specific design quirks that are only elsewhere found in Sif and The King's costumes, but just tiny little detail type things? Chef's kiss.

Speaking of the King! He unfortunately does need to be Very Big, but thankfully Broadway shows can pull that off! Something similar to the Wizard head in Wicked could work here, where only some parts of the set piece move (mechanically or via puppetry) and the actor is a voice over. The hair could be a mix of practice and projections. The tears that show up in the fight would probably also need to be projected. The hard thing would be getting it to disappear quickly enough. Maybe the last bit before the loop resets is always in front of the curtain? Could be cool. A less well funded production would probably have to either use mostly projections or re-work to use less moving parts.

Last up Euphrasie! Since she has a long dress getting her some extra height wouldn't be too hard, and she doesn't have to dance or anything so that helps. But! She does need to do the Act 4 finale dramatic kneel down, which is harder to work around. If we cast a tall actor and just use lifts in her shoes, it could work. She wouldn't be as super tall as she would be if we used hidden stilts, but I like the image of her cupping Sif's face, it goes all the way back to the comics, I gotta keep it.

What about y'all? How would you dress everyone? Any little details you'd want to see? And tricks to deal with the problems I thought of? Have fun!

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Word List: Fashion History

to try to include in your poem/story (pt. 3/3)

Pelete Bite - a fabric created by the Kalabari Ijo peoples of the Niger Delta region by cutting threads out of imported cloth to create motifs

Pelisse - a woman’s long coat with long sleeves and a front opening, used throughout the 19th century; can also refer to men’s military jackets and women’s sleeved mantles

Peplos - a draped, outer garment made of a single piece of cloth that was worn by women in ancient Greece; loose-fitting and held up with pins at the shoulder, its top edge was folded over to create a flap and it was often worn belted

Pillow/Bobbin Lace - textile lace made by braiding and twisting thread on a pillow

Pinafore - a decorative, apron-like garment pinned to the front of dresses for both function and style

Poke Bonnet - a nineteenth-century women’s hat that featured a large brim which extended beyond the wearer’s face

Polonaise - a style of dress popular in the 1770s-80s, with a bodice cut all in one and often with the skirts looped up; it also came back into fashion during the 1870s

Pomander - a small metal ball filled with perfumed items worn in the 16th & 17th centuries to create a pleasant aroma

Poulaine - a shoe or boot with an extremely elongated, pointed toe, worn in the 14th and 15th centuries

Raffia Cloth - a type of textile woven from palm leaves and used for garments, bags and mats

Rebato - a large standing lace collar supported by wire, worn by both men and women in the late 16th and early 17th century

Robe à L’anglaise - the 18th-century robe à l’anglaise consisted of a fitted bodice cut in one piece with an overskirt that was often parted in front to reveal the petticoat

Robe à la Française - an elite 18th-century gown consisting of a decorative stomacher, petticoat, and two wide box pleats falling from shoulders to the floor

Robe en Chemise - a dress fashionable in the 1780s, constructed out of muslin with a straight cut gathered with a sash or drawstring

Robe Volante - a dress originating in 18th-century France which was pleated at the shoulder and hung loose down, worn over hoops

Roses / Rosettes - a decorative rose element usually found on shoes in the 17th century as fashion statement

Ruff - decorative removable pleated collar popular during the mid to late 16th and 17th century

Schenti - an ancient Egyptian wrap skirt worn by men

Shirtwaist - also known as waist; a woman’s blouse that resembles a man’s shirt

Skeleton Suit - late 18th & early 19th-century play wear for boys that consists of two pieces–a fitted jacket and trousers–that button together

Slashing - a decorative technique of cutting slits in the outer layer of a garment or accessory in order to expose the fabric underneath

Spanish Cape - an outer wrap often cut in a three-quarter circle originating from Spain

Spanish Farthingale - a skirt made with a series of hoops that widened toward the feet to create a triangular or conical silhouette, created in the late 15th century

Spencer Jacket - a short waist- or bust-length jacket worn in the late 18th and early 19th centuries

Stomacher - a decorated triangular-shaped panel that fills in the front opening of a women’s gown or bodice during the late 15th century to the late 18th century

Tablion - a rectangular panel, often ornamented with embroidery or jewels, attached to the front of a cloak; worn as a sign of status by Byzantine emperors and other important officials

Toga - the large draped garment of white, undyed cloth worn by Roman men as a sign of citizenship

Toga Picta - a type of toga worn by an elite few in Ancient Rome and the Byzantine Empire that was richly embroidered, patterned and dyed solid purple

Tricorne Hat - a 3-cornered hat with a standing brim, which was popular in 18th century

Tupu - a long pin used to secure a garment worn across the shoulders. It was typically worn by Andean women in South America

Vest/Waistcoat - a close-fitting inner garment, usually worn between jacket and shirt

Wampum - are shell beads strung together by American Indians to create images and patterns on accessories such as headbands and belts that can also be used as currency for trading

Wellington Boot - a popular and practical knee- or calf-length boot worn in the 19th century

If any of these words make their way into your next poem/story, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read them!

More: Fashion History ⚜ Word Lists

[thesimline]

The Baroque period saw a softening of women's fashion, with the silhouette becoming fuller and higher waisted. Leg-o-mutton and three quarter sleeves added a billowy upper half to dresses. Shimmering soft satins and tonnes of delicate lace trimmings were all the rage. Necklines continued to broaden, eventually even falling off the shoulders in some styles. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

QUEEN

Hat | Hair | Accessory Curls | Earrings | Collar | Undershirt (TSR) | Dress | Cuffs | Ring (TSR)

DUCHESS

Hair | Hair Flowers | Earrings (TSR) | Necklace | Dress | Brooch | Fan | Bracelet (TSR)

NOBLEWOMAN

Hat | Hair | Mask (TSR) | Earrings (TSR) | Capelet | Dress | Gloves

LADY

Hair | Accessory Curls | Necklace (TSR) | Dress | Shawl

PURITAN

Hat | Hair | Earrings | Ruff | Capelet | Top | Cuffs | Skirt

MERCHANT'S WIFE

Hat | Hair | Necklace | Dress | Muff

SHOPKEEPER'S WIFE

Hat (TSR) | Hair | Earrings (TSR) | Collar | Undershirt | Dress | Belt (TSR)

COMMONER

Hood & Hair | Collar | Undershirt (TSR) | Dress

WAITING-WOMAN

Hood | Hair | Capelet (TSR) | Top | Cuffs | Skirt

KITCHENMAID

Head Covering | Outfit | Shoes (TSR)

COUNTRYWOMAN

Hat | Cloak | Outfit | Sleeves | Shoes

PEASANT

Head Covering & Outfit | Shoes (Base Game)

With thanks to some amazing creators: @strangestorytellersims @saturngalore @daerilia @glitterberrysims @isaax-sims @inlovewithregencyera @simsonico @leahlillith @batsfromwesteros @neutralsupply @elfdor @the-melancholy-maiden @vintagesimstress @plumbobteasociety @shespeakssimlish @ilkup @sheabuttyr @yakfarm @simverses @tekri @satterlly @simadelics @waekey @sychik @simstrouble @sewerwolfx @javitrulovesims @regina-raven @ikari-sims

[westerosisim]

Westerosi Fashion - Before the Conquest

Kingdom of the North

cc look 1: top, skirt, hair, earrings, necklace

cc look 2: top/bottom/hat, hair, earrings

model: Princess of the North

Kingdom of the Mountain and Vale

cc look 1: dress, hair, crown, earrings, necklace, belt, fur

cc look 2: dress, hair, hair detail, cloak, belt, fur, earrings, necklace

model: Sharra Arryn - Queen Regent of the Mountain and Vale

Kingdom of the Rock

cc look 1: dress, hair, crown, earrings

cc look 2: dress, hair

model: Queen of the Rock

Kingdom of the Reach

cc look 1: dress, hair, crown, earrings/bracelet, necklace, shoes

cc look 2: dress, hair, flower crown, earrings/necklace, belt, shoes

model: Queen of the Reach

Principality of Dorne

cc look 1: dress, hair (cottage living), turtleneck, headpiece, necklace (strangerville)

cc look 2: dress, hair, circlet, earrings/necklace

models: Meria Martell - Princess of Dorne, Deria Martell - future Princess of Dorne

Before the conquest, all the seven kingdoms of Westeros had their own distinct style, but as one kingdom, the main fashion influences came from the royal Targaryen family. Only certain areas, such as the North and Dorne, kept their own traditional styles (my canon).

One of my favorite parts of doing an asoiaf save file is storytelling through fashion!

[moralleets]

[morallee] The Vees Lookbooks (Hazbin Hotel x The Sims 4 Series)

VOX

vox' tuxedo coat | vox' TV head

claw rings recolor | base game pants recolor

VELVETTE

velvette two ponytails hairstyle | velvette skull earrings

velvette cloak | velvette gloves | velvette crop top with hearts

velvette striped pants with heart-shaped belt | velvette shoes

hazbin hotel characters' eye colours

i also used ball-jointed doll tattoo by @oydis tho you can't see the joints on this pic (on purpose, as you can't see them on Velvette in the series either lol, but trust me, they are there)

VALENTINO

default skin colour by sunshineyDays22

valentino hat with antennae | valentino antennae separately

valentino heart shaped glasses | valentino neck fur

valentino fur coat and arm skin detail

my heartless monster tier patrons can download an all-in-one package (which does ONLY include my cc of course) so they don't need to download a bunch of files separetly!

[meetmeinthepast]

Keep Dry, Little Lab Rat (plationic Ygor x GN!Reader, no use of y/n)

This idea is ridiculous, but it was raining heavily where I live when the first footage from Epic Universe was coming out, this idea formed, and it wouldn't leave.

A Sadly Necessary Disclaimer: this is meant to be entirely and completely plationic. It is, at most, a detached sort of affectionate, if you squint. It is also meant to resemble the character as seen in the ride and as played by multiple actors, not to reflect any real individual who may play this part. Please never let this or anything I may write in the future be used as a reason to harass or cause discomfort to anyone at the park, be they employees (performers or otherwise) or guests.

(Is this the first EU-specific x reader?)

"Where do you think you're going?" Ygor's voice rang out through the castle entryway, where you had just finished zipping up your jacket.

"Out for a walk?" It was raining in Darkmoor, beautiful and dreary, and you couldn't wait to see this gothic wonderland in such weather. You were still new to this whole "being a live-in lab rat" business, but one thing you were sure of was Dr. Victoria's promise that you could go on walks when and where you liked, for the most part. The better to keep your organs in shape, her assistant had once told you with a grin, but here he was stopping you from doing just that.

"Not dressed like that, you're not," he declared, storming towards you. At the sight of you shrinking, he softened sightly. "Where are your galoshes? Where is your umbrella? And this, this jacket? Too thin, too light, it is not even wool. You are going to catch your death prematurely and that would be bad for experimenting. No, no, come here." A gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and pulled you across the room, down the corridor, and to a hall tree by a side entrance. It held the usual things, cold weather clothing, shoes, and hats, plus a few things you couldn't identify and tried not to think about.

"Off with the rain slicker, you need something better." You complied, and he snatched it away, throwing it on a hook to the annoyance of a bat who had previously been hanging there. Ygor began shifting through the clothing on the hall tree, holding things up to you and replacing them, muttering to half to himself. "You should have leather, keeps you dry, good and sturdy. Ygor will see what we have in the leftovers bin. You are not the vegan, yes?" You were too stunned to respond, but he brushed past your silence. "Eh, does not matter, no animals were harmed. Like Ygor tells the authorities, it's not like the people were using it anymore, yes?" He finally settled on a heavy wool cloak that was a size too big and fastened it around your shoulders with a large and frankly terrifying pin before sitting you down on the hall tree. "We should get you something fur lined, too; you allergic to werewolf? They shed a lot, so it's cheapest and easiest, but does smell like dog, so you let Ygor know if that is deal breaker." In a matter of moments, he had pulled off your shoes and slipped a pair of oversized rubber boots on your feet, hauled you up, and pulled the cloak's hood over your head.

"There now. Take this," an umbrella was pushed into your hands, "and enjoy your walk. Remember to get your heart rate up, keep it strong so we can use it when you're done. Don't talk to any strangers unless they'd make good lab rats, don't end up on the news or in the prison or the hospital, and if you do then Ygor never knew you. Goodbye, have a nice walk, I'll miss you." It wasn't until your feet hit the first puddle that you realized he had shuffled you out the door. The long walk that ensued was, at least, enough to help you clear your head from the strange encounter.

A week later, when the rain looked ready to overtake the town again, there was a rustling outside your door. Opening it revealed a long coat folded neatly on the ground with a tag labeled to your experiment number and signed with a single Y. The coat was well fit to you, made of bits of suspicious leather which appeared to be tattooed in places, sewn together with a baseball stitch, and lined with a soft tawny fur that smelled faintly of wet dog.