#jasper tile

[sen-jou]

Dining - Kitchen Large country kitchen design example with a single-bowl sink, medium-tone wood cabinets, quartz countertops, blue backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, gray countertops, recessed-panel cabinets, and cement tile backsplash.

[rickor-mortis]

Dining - Kitchen

Large country kitchen design example with a single-bowl sink, medium-tone wood cabinets, quartz countertops, blue backsplash, stainless steel appliances, an island, gray countertops, recessed-panel cabinets, and cement tile backsplash.

[ch3rrytr3e]

goobers

[banj0possum]

Can we get more Goth yandere? Like when he offered us the chance to read those dark fairytales together I imagine us in his bed on a rainy day and a candle is lit and we’re snuggled up next to him reading about the darkest shit ever and he’s stuttering because he’s so nervous. Like we’re both under the blankets with our leg over his

*sniff* man..

Yandere! Goth x GN! Reader Pt. 2

🥀 He was dreaming right? This was a dream? Yeah it's a totally a dream!

🥀 No it's not a dream..

🥀 "Jas? So is it your place or mine?" Your voice snaps him out of his trance.

🥀 "Wh-oh! Uhm, y-you can come over to my place if..thats ok.." He's trying to keep calm, but the fact that you're coming over to his house is almost unreal to him!

🥀 The two of you have been partnered up for a science project and you wanted to work on in together at home.

🥀 Jasper was trying not to pass out from happiness over the prospect of hanging out with you without anyone to bother you two, maybe he can finally make a move!

🥀 You walk home with him, and you arrive at his house. It was a grey house with dark blue tiles on the roof. The yard was filled with bushes and vines that grew everywhere, it was rather charming.

🥀 Your both enter and you're greeting by his mom. She was in the middle of cooking when she greeted you sweetly.

🥀 "Why hello dear! I've never seen Jasper bring home a friend before! I'm so glad he's making friends in school!" She smiles.

🥀 Jasper blushes and pouts "Mom of course I have friends.." he laughs, giving his mom a big hug.

🥀 "Awe I know sweetie, now you two come in! I'm making dinner!" She shoos us away from the kitchen so she could cook, and we run up the stairs to his room.

🥀 His room was full of posters and fairy lights; it was gloomy but in a weirdly comforting way. You could see shelves full of curiosities like a jar full of what seemed like raw ore and..is that the pen you lost?

🥀 Jasper lights a few candles which were scented like flowers, and he sits down on his desk "So where do we start?" he smiles.

🥀 The whole time you were working on the project, Jasper was smiling like an idiot. The thought of you spending time with him in his room sent him over the moon!

🥀 Whenever you leaned near him to look at his laptop, he may or may not have gotten a whiff of your hair..

🥀 A few hours pass, and it's started raining. Jonesy came into the room to sleep in our lap as you two finished up the report.

🥀 "Huh, that's weird. Jonesy hates anyone that isn't me or my mom.." Jasper smiles as he pets the little black cat on your lap.

🥀 You joke that you're his second parent and Jasper turns bright red and starts stuttering like crazy. "R-really? I-I mean you can if you wanna I'm not stopping you! N-not like I'm asking you to be my partner of anything right? I mean it's just a cat! Hahah..yeah.."

🥀 You smile at him and laugh before looking around his room again, complimenting his decor.

🥀 "Th-thanks..Oh! I promised you I'd show you my books! I just got Dante's Inferno! You wanna read it with me?" He asks happily.

🥀 You agree and he gets the book, the two of you lying on his bed as he opens a lamp and starts reading, but he's utterly crap at not stuttering every 10 words.

🥀 He could feel you leaning on his shoulder, your bodies getting closer with each paged turned, it was both exciting and calming to him.

🥀 Jonesy jumps off the bed and out the room as the two of you read.

🥀 The atmosphere was so relaxing, the soft glow of the candles and fairy lights in the room and the rain tapping against the window was like a river flowing all your worries and anxieties away.

🥀 Soon enough the two of you drift off to sleep, cuddling eachother with the book discarded on the floor, Jasper held you close to his chest as your legs were tangled together under his blanket.

🥀 "Kids? Time for- oh.." Jasper's mom quiet's down as she peeks in and sees us sleeping together. She giggles and gently closes the door and picking up Jonesy. "We should let them rest for a bit Jonesy.." She smiles as she goes back down.

[ghostlysoaps]

Emergency First Aid

He finds Ghost in the bathroom, needle and thread in crimson-stained hands. 

White porcelain muddled with grime and blood, smeared across the cubicle glass. A bottle of something see-through sitting on the lip of the tub – the label near illegible by the fingerprints wrapped around it. Every detail pointing towards it being a scene from some B-list horror flick. Except it can't be. Because Johnny’s nails dig into the palms of his hands and pain has no presence in dreams.

Ghost's skin is almost as pale as the cradle he sits in. Johnny can see the stark blue of his veins through the fragile skin of his wrists. A far more flattering colour on him than red, it's why he pretends he doesn’t know where his favourite henley ended up.

"Get out of my fucking room, Soap."

Johnny nods and then proceeds further into the room, careful to avoid the droplets of blood staining the tiles in a fucked-up breadcrumb trail.

Ghost levels him with an unamused glare, a non-verbal "go away," ringing louder than if he'd said it outright. 

He ignores that too.

The stitching is neither crude nor neat when he leans in for a closer look. Serviceable. Bound to scar. It might have regardless, medical ain't miracle workers, but it might, might have left a thinner mark.

"Soap?"

Ghost's eyes are brown as jasper, doe-wide, extruding exhaustion and warmth – in spite of how much effort he puts into burying that bleeding heart of his. They track Johnny’s progress warily. Glides over him when he wraps his own fingers around the bottle, fingers a good half-inch shorter than the red stains already there. Johnny knows all this despite not looking. Because they've been here before. Too often for his liking. 

He sets about cleaning the tacky trails of blood from Ghost’s skin. 

"Johnny?"

Why are his hands shaking? They're not supposed to do that he doesn't think.

"It's just a scratch, I've had worse."

His tongue unsticks from where it lies dead and heavy in his mouth. "I fuckin' know. 'M not blind."

Warm, calloused hands envelop his own. They stop him from digging deeper welts into his own skin. Massages gently until Johnny, against his will, unclenches and unfolds like a flowering bloom at the first hint of sunlight.

"This won't be what kills me–"

"Haud yer wheesht! Whit this shoddy excuse fer sutures anything's–"

"–because I've no intention of leaving you yet," Ghost– Simon continues, as if Johnny hadn't interrupted him at all. "I've clawed myself back from the edge of hell more times than I care to count." He knocks their heads together, one hand moving to thread fingers though Johnny’s hair. "It's much easier now that I have something to come back to."

Johnny takes a moment to process and sift through the wreckage those words leave behind.

"Take yer damn mask off an' say tha' to my face," he growls.

And Simon doesn't hesitate for a second. He peels the mask off, his second skin, as if it's easier than breathing. As if Johnny’s words were the decree of a higher power he's helpless to obey. Scarred skin and chapped lips and dark circles blending into greasepaint greets him – a sight no longer unfamiliar, but a privilege to behold nonetheless. 

"I-" is as far as Simon comes before Johnny is surging forward to take his bottom lip between his teeth. He kisses him like something feral and starved. As if he could crawl into Simon's mouth if he tried hard enough. Push through muscle, bone and sinew to make space for himself in the hollow of his ribcage.

He doesn't like the anger with which he devours him – the ever-present companion snarling in his chest – but he needs him to understand. Thinks that if he tries hard enough Simon might taste the words lodged firmly behind his molars. I can't stand to lose you. It scares me to the point of losing my breath. I love you. I love you. I love you. 

For all his rage, for all the fiery passion with which he lashes out, in the end it all stems from fear.

"Could've at least gone to medical, ye absolute weapon," he bites out, one hand stressing over the skin right beneath Simon's wound.

"Couldn't stand the thought of anyone touching me," Simon murmurs, catching Johnny’s wrist the moment he goes to pull away as if burnt. "'S better now. I'd have told you to fuck off proper if I didn't–" he cuts himself off, the tips of his ears going pink.

Johnny fills in the blanks, eyes falling shut for the fraction of a second.

"Dinnae deep down wan' me to be here."

Simon shrugs.

Johnny exhales, leans forward and rests his forehead to Simon's shoulder, kisses him sweetly right after.

"Let me help you."

"Please." 

He's glad to be looking at Simon now because Simon, whenever Ghost has fled his visage, is an open book. And the way he's looking at Johnny? It's as if he'd taken every soft, sweet thing Johnny feels for him and is reflecting it right back.

With another steadying breath, Johnny gets to work. Gauze and adhesive tape, as quick as he dares so as to not prolong the pain. And when he's done he brushes his lips over the white bandaging, looking up through his lashes when the simple gesture of affection causes Simon's breath to hitch. Keeps to his knees despite the ache in them.

"You come to me next time," Johnny says, a plea more so than the demand he'd hoped for.

Simon reaches for him, cups his stubbled cheek in hand, thumb rubbing in broad strokes across a near imperceptible scar there – his next words ringing with the gravity of church bells and promises spoken within. 

"Alright, Johnny."

---

Prompts via @whumperless-whump-event and @seth-whumps

[daydreamwritting]

Hey, how are you? Did you drink water today? Go drink water! Alright not taking up too much time I hope! Can you do either Jasper Hale or Spencer Reid coming home to the reader having a nightmare and comforting them? Thank you for writing and posting!

This made me drink water so mission accomplished! This one took me a second but I’m really proud with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!

“Pain.”

Those were the last words I heard before I felt like electricity was shooting through my entire body over and over again. Unfortunately, I don’t seem to have whatever Bella has to make her immune to some vampires gifts.

I looked over at Jasper, he was shouting something but I couldn’t hear anything as I tried to focus on anything but the pain. It felt so strong like something had ahold of me, as if it could pick me up off the ground like Darth Vader or something. Honestly, I’d take over this any day. Just as it felt like a string was wrapping around my heart and trying to squeeze till it bursts, I hit the hard tiled ground.

I wake with a gasp, my heart was racing so fast I’m not totally sure that I wasn’t having a heart attack. The room was dark, I couldn’t see anything. Was I dead? Is death just a dark empty space?

Before I could think about it any longer, light peeked into the room as the bedroom door opened. I felt a wave of calm overtake me as Jasper was at my side in an instant, pulling me close to him.

“Shhh. You’re alright, Darling.” He holds me as I slowly start to even out my breathing. “I’ll be right back okay?” Jasper said, looking at me concerned.

I don’t blame him, when the nightmares first started I refused to let him out of my sight for hours afterwards. I nodded my head and he was out of the room in a second. I turn on the bedside lamp and kicked the covers off of me. Jasper seemed to flash back into the room, only being gone for about 20 seconds or so. He had a glass of water and a wet wash cloth. I took the glass with a shaky hand and slowly sipped on it while Jasper wiped the sweat off my forehead and neck. The cold cloth felt good on my skin, like a fire being put out. He set the rag aside and walked across the room to open one of the windows, letting in the cool fresh air. I shivered slightly but welcomed the cold. Even during the summer, nights in Forks were overly chilly.

Jasper grabbed the now empty glass from my hand, putting it to the side as he joined me on the queen sized bed. “You know, I wouldn’t have gone through all the effort of putting a bed in here if I knew it was gonna cause you this much trouble.” He teased. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He always asks even though he knows the answer. “It’s the same as always, with the Volturi.” That day was nothing short of a disaster. It’s a miracle that we all walked out of that room.

“They should have never touched you.”

“Technically they didn’t.” I deadpanned. Jasper lightly pushed my face away from his.

“Don’t play smart with me missy. I should have taken out every single one of them the second they hurt you.” Jasper stared at me, with this look he gets every time he’s being serious.

“You would have lost.” I noted quietly, knowing he could hear me. There’s no way Edward, Alice, and Jasper could single handedly take down the most powerful vampires in the world and their guards.

Jasper chuckled and brought his cold hand up to caress my check, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. “Not when it comes to you.”

[fleur-a-whump]

Overloaded (#2)

late night sparks

guys guess what!! little villain guy has a name!! it’s Jasper and we love him dearly. also team leader’s got a name too, it’s Miguel, but we don’t really care about him because he’s a bitch. plus new character reveal: Chase, a teammate. he is also, unsurprisingly, a bitch.

Content: ex-villain whumpee, hero/leader whumper, manipulative whumper, collars, electrocution (for realsies this time), implied referenced abuse of a minor, referenced bullying, bad team dynamics, adult language

in which Miguel gets worse. takes place probably a few months after "preventative measures"

previous | masterlist | next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jasper's back was sore. And his arms. And his everything.

He sat kneeling on the kitchen floor, determinately ignoring the pins and needles that pricked at his calves. He couldn't stop, couldn't take a break till the floor was spotless. Chase had once again threatened some mixture of violence and telling on him to Miguel for insubordination if he didn't do the man's chores. 

Big man-child, Jasper thought bitterly.

So, here he was, scrubbing well past midnight, after having spent the day straining his powers in the lab and doing his own chores. 

Jasper sat back to indulge a long, dramatic yawn. He nearly jumps out of his skin when an impatient ahem cuts through the previously dead silent kitchen. His bleary eyes take several long moments to focus on Miguel, leaning against the doorway. The hero would look casual if it weren’t for the peeved look on his face. Jasper’s stomach does a somersault.

Sheepish, Jasper drawls, “Heyyy, Miguel…”

Miguel is not amused. “What the fuck are you doing out here,” he snaps.

Jasper squeezes his hands into fists to quell the tremors. He stutters, “J-just cleaning.”

The villain can hardly finish the statement before the unsettling and painful electricity of the collar arcs through him. His muscles seize and ache and burn and it feels like death and he can't breathe—

Just as quickly as it began, the electricity stops. He gasps and collapses to the side, just barely able to catch himself on his forearm. Small, choked-off whimpers escape him as he tries to catch his breath and keep his volume to a minimum. His father never liked to hear him whine.

Jasper continues to shudder as his powers go haywire. The typically comforting restless skittering of his own electricity under his skin now burns as it travels across the newly fried neurons. More than that, it feels wrong for such a core part of his being to cause him pain. The feeling is everywhere, from the tip of his nose to his toes, and it is everything. Little sparks and crackles of energy fly from his shaking hands as it becomes too painful to completely contain his powers. Simply existing—not to mention actually using his powers—will be painful while his body tries to recover from the unnaturally strong current, engineered just for him.

As his body gradually backs down from its state of panic, ire at the punishment surges within him. The hero didn’t even let him explain. It was Chase who ordered him to do his chores; ordered him to not leave this room until it was spotless.

“I was just following orders!” he bursts.

Oh shit.

A quick glance at Miguel and his quirked eyebrow lets him know just how badly he just fucked up. And even if it didn't, the second burst of electricity from the collar definitely spells it out for him.

A guttural groan escapes his clenched teeth as he feels the current worm its way through his neurons, igniting them. The burning, all-encompassing pain is all he knows. Spots cloud his vision. Seconds feel like minutes, feel like hours, feel like eternity, until he wonders if that's all he'll ever feel. Nothing but the gut-wrenching pain of his greatest gift, so deeply intertwined with his being, turned against him and ripping him apart from the inside out. 

And then, it stops.

Jasper’s body fully gives out this time, his chin bouncing off the tile and teeth clacking painfully. He's a pitiful mess of useless limbs. His muscles feel like jelly and yet are still forced to endure the waves of aftershock, twitching and spasming irregularly. Each movement is agony.

He gulps oxygen, having still been out of breath from the first shock. He can hardly hear his own moans and whimpers bouncing around the kitchen with each breath over the ringing in his ears, and he has zero energy to control them this time.

A hand lands on his shoulder, and he can't help the delayed but violent flinch that ripples through him. But the hand is soft, gentle, as it pulls him to lie on his back. It guides his hand to rest on someone's chest, to follow as it rises and falls rhythmically. He latches onto it, using it as a guide to breathe and bring himself back to reality. Another hand gently cards through his loose curls as he works to steady his breathing and his vision clears. If he eagerly leans into the gentle touch, well, he can blame it on his delirious state.

When Miguel's face finally comes into focus above him, a shiver runs through him, and he averts his gaze. He'll blame that on his still-spasming muscles.

Miguel’s soft voice calls for his attention again. He focuses back on his leader’s face, haloed above him by the bright kitchen lights.

“There you are. You're alright, it's okay,” he soothes.

The hero lets Jasper relish the contact a moment longer before gently returning his hand to his own chest.

Jasper swallows the whimper at the loss.

Miguel lets out a long-suffering sigh. It gives Jasper whiplash how suddenly the familiar weight of anxiety settles back in his chest.

“I don't like doing that, man. You know better than to be in the common areas after your curfew, and you definitely know better than to talk back, bud. I don't wanna have to punish you, but the rules are rules for a reason. Yeah, they're to protect the team, but they're also to protect you. What if you'd had another episode with your powers?”

He decidedly doesn’t think about the ‘episodes’ Miguel is referring to. Still, the disappointment in his savior's voice hurt almost as much as the electricity. His eyes flood with tears as guilt settles like a rock in his stomach. The hero was right. He knew the rules, and he agreed to them. Anything to stay. Anything to be good.

His voice breaks, small and shaky, as he says, “I-I'm really s-sorry, Mig-guel.”

The villain’s not one hundred percent sure what exactly he's sorry for, but, fuck, is he sorry.

“Okay, that's alright, don't cry. I think you've learned your lesson. You're fine.” 

The words should be comforting. The edge to his tone, however, is not. Jasper blinks hard to clear the tears, not wanting to annoy him. That was another thing his father didn't like.

Miguel brings him back to the present, asking, “Why are you cleaning the floor anyways? That's not on your list for this week.”

Jasper swallows hard past the lump still in his throat. He’s afraid of what Chase will do to him if he tells Miguel and Miguel decides he doesn’t like that. However, he’s more “Chase s-said I should be busy all the t-time to k-keep me out of trouble…”

Miguel hums in thought, ever casual as Jasper trembles on the floor below of him. 

“I actually like that idea. We wouldn't want you getting bored. You'd be helping the team out a lot too, taking some work off our plates so we can train more. I'll work on the new chore schedule in the morning.”

Jasper bit his lip. He could read between the lines.

“A-and, my training?”

“We can reduce it some,” Miguel says, thoughtful. “I know you've been struggling to keep up.”

He makes it sound like a kindness, voice full of sympathy. No matter how gentle the tone, Jasper has to blink the tears from his eyes again. He knew he wasn't the strongest or the most capable, but that was the point of training. He'd never be good enough to redeem himself without the chance to train.

Miguel sighs again and stands. He suddenly reaches towards him. Jasper has to carefully control the urge to flinch, not knowing what to expect from the movement. He never knows what to expect.

Miguel simply holds it out towards him, however, expectantly. It takes Jasper a moment to realize he's trying to help him up. He takes the hand after that moment's hesitation and wavers on unsteady feet as the blood finally rushes back into his legs. He blinks spots from his vision, gripping Miguel for dear life until he's sure he's not going to pass out.

The hero gives him an easy smile, clapping a hand on his shoulder just a bit too hard. He nudges him in the direction of the bedrooms.

“You look tired, man. I think it's time for bed,” he all but coos.

It sounds like a caring gesture, or at the very least a joke. Jasper knows it's an order.

He dutifully mumbles, “Goodnight,” before making his way to the door slowly. He knows he probably looks like a newborn fawn as his jittery body tries to carry him to his bed.

“And Jasper?”

A slight jolt of anxiety stops him as he turns back to his leader.

“If I catch you out past curfew again, we're going to have an issue worth more than a little jolt, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the villain says, too tired to bite back the honorific once totally engrained in him.

He doesn't notice the way Miguel preens at the submission.

“Attaboy, Jasper. Goodnight.”

The praise rings hollow after the night's events, but as he makes his way back to his room, dead on his feet, he allows the praise to warm him. 

He'll take what he can get.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

jasper doesn't deserve this :( but he will get more >:)

tags!! lmk if you wanna be added (or removed, I added some extra people)!!

@whumpsday

@sergeant-jasper (yo i didn't even realize lol)

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@crystalrose141

@aloafofbreadwithanxiety

@paingoes

@elizaisnotokay

@quaggasus

[ad-caelestia]

Protection & Warding ⚔️ [long post]

A guide on protecting yourself and your home. 

Personal Protection

Wear an amulet on your person - can be made from man-made or natural materials so long as its intent is to protect

Keep a protective crystal in your pocket

Craft a small protective spell jar and keep on your person

Anoint yourself with a protective oil

Place an energetic shield around yourself 

Place a glamour on yourself to go unnoticed in the presence of harmful or negative energies

Carry a piece of iron on your person

Bathe with a wash made from protective herbs

Sleep with a sachet of herbs under your pillow or hanging above your bed to prevent nightmares

Prayers and offerings to your patron deity

Hang a protective amulet from the rearview mirror in your vehicle for safe travels

Home & Hearth Protection

Hang rose stems with thorns intact above the entrance of your home

Hang an upside down horseshoe above the entrance of your home (some lore states you should hang the horseshoe right-side-up)

Hang wind chimes or bells outside of your home

Create a “Witch Bottle” and bury in your front yard, or in a potted plant on your porch

Create a “Witch’s Ladder” or “Witch Ball” and hang it either inside or outside of your home

Hang imagery of protective symbols outside or around your home

Burn protective incense in your home

Create a room spray made from protective oils and spray around your home

Create a protective wash and use it to clean your windows, door frames, and tile/wooden floors 

Use the wash mentioned above to “paint” symbols of protection on the outside of your front door, on your porch, etc. 

Place a protective crystal at each corner inside your home

Place a small glass of salt at each corner inside your home

Hammer 3 iron nails into your front door

Create a protective powder and sprinkle around the perimeter of your home - alternately, sprinkle outside of your front and back door

Create a sachet filled with protective herbs and crystals - keep inside or outside of your home, in your vehicle, etc.

Hang mirrors inside of your home

Place a crystal grid at the center of your home using protective crystals

Call upon your patron deity to protect your home and those who reside in it

Protective Symbols & Items

Pentacle

Triquetra 

Witch’s Knot

Algiz (Elhaz) rune

Vegvisir

Helm of Awe

Mjolnir

Glyph of the Moon, Mars, or Saturn

Eye of Horus

Ankh

Crossed Swords

Iron nails

Railroad spikes

Thorns

War Water

Flying Devil Oil

Third & Fifth Pentacle of Saturn; Third & Sixth Pentacle of Jupiter; Sixth Pentacle of Mars; Second, Third, & Fifth Pentacle of the Moon

Crystals

Agate

Amethyst - protection against psychic attacks and while traveling

Angel Aura Quartz - spiritual protection

Apophyllite

Aqua Aura Quartz - protection against psychic attacks

Aquamarine - protection while traveling via water

Astrophyllite

Aventurine

Beryl - protection while traveling

Blue Goldstone

Bowenite

Bronzite

Bustamite

Catlinite - spiritual protection

Carnelian - protection from negative emotions

Celestite - emotional protection

Chalcopyrite

Chrysoberyl

Citrine - protection from nightmares

Clear Quartz

Diamond

Dravite

Eudialyte

Fire Agate

Fluorite - protection against psychic attacks

Galaxite

Garnet

Indicolite

Infinite Stone

Jade

Jasper

Jet

Lapis Lazuli

Lepidolite

Malachite - protection during pregnancy and childbirth

Moonstone - protection during pregnancy, childbirth, and while traveling via water

Mother of Pearl - protection for children

Nuumite

Obsidian

Onyx

Peridot

Pyrite

Rose Quartz - protection during pregnancy and childbirth

Ruby - protection of the home and hearth

Salt

Schorl

Shungite

Smithsonite

Smoky Quartz

Snowflake Obsidian

Sugilite

Tanzanite

Tiger’s Eye

Turquoise

Vauxite - protection from nightmares

Botanicals

Acacia, Aconite, Acorn (protection from lightning), African Violet, Ague, Alder (protection for the deceased), Alfalfa (protection from hunger and poverty), Alkanet (protection from snakebites and the fear of snakes), Aloe (protection from household accidents), Amaranth (protection from bullets), Amber, Angelica, Anise Seeds, Ash (protection from drowning and while traveling), Aspen (protection against thieves), Bamboo, Barley, Basil, Bay Laurel (protection from lightning), Bay Leaf (protection for your home and family, protection against baneful magic), Belladonna, Bergamot (protection from illness), Bilberry Bark, Birch (protection from lightning and infertility), Black Cohosh (protection from accidents and sudden death), Black Haw, Black Pepper, Blackberry, Bladderwrack (protection while traveling), Blessed Thistle, Bloodroot, Blue Violet, Blueberry, Boneset, Brimstone, Buckeye (protection against arthritis), Buckwheat, Cactus, Calamus, Calendula, Carnation, Caraway, Cascara Sagrada (protection against baneful magic), Catnip (protection while sleeping), Cedar (protection from lightning), Celandine, Chia, Chives, Chrysanthemum, Cilantro (protection for gardeners), Cinnamon, Cinquefoil (protection for loved ones on a journey), Clove (protection for babies), Clover, Coconut, Comfrey (protection while traveling), Coriander, Corn, Cotton, Cramp Bark, Cranberry, Cumin, Curry, Cypress, Daisy (protection for babies), Dandelion Root (protection while sleeping), Datura, Devil’s Bit, Devil’s Claw, Dill, Dogwood, Dragon’s Blood, Ebony, Elder (protection for the deceased), Elm (protection from lightning), Eucalyptus, False Unicorn Root (protection during pregnancy and childbirth), Fennel, Fern, Feverfew (protection against accidents and cold/flu), Figwort (protection for your home), Flaxseed (protection for your home, protection against baneful magic), Fleabane, Foxglove (protection for your home and garden), Frankincense, Gardenia, Garlic, Geranium, Ginger, Ginseng, Gorse (protection against baneful magic), Hawthorn (protection from lightning), Heather (protection against violent crimes), Heliotrope, Henna (protection from illness), Hickory, High John the Conqueror, Holly, Horseradish, Hyssop (protection for property against burglars and trespassers), Irish Moss (protection while traveling), Ivy, Juniper, Kava Kava, Lady Slipper (protection against baneful magic), Larch (protection against theft), Larkspur, Laurel, Lavender, Leek, Lemon, Lemon Verbena (protection of your home, protection from lightning and storms), Lettuce, Lime, Lotus, Lucky Hand Root (protection while traveling), Mandrake, Marigold (protection while sleeping), Marjoram, Marshmallow Root, Mimosa, Mint, Mistletoe (protection from lightning and fire), Mullein (protection from nightmares and baneful magic), Nutmeg, Oak Moss, Olive Leaf, Onion, Papyrus, Parsley (protection for your home), Peat Moss, Peony, Periwinkle (protection against snakes and poison), Pimpernel, Pine, Pineapple, Plantain (protection from snake bites and jealousy), Quince, Radish, Raspberry Leaf, Red Clover (protection for pets), Rhubarb, Rice, Rowan, Rue, Sage, Sandalwood, Saw Palmetto, Sea Salt, Sheep Sorrel (protection from heart disease), Slippery Elm, Snapdragon, Solomon’s Seal, Spanish Moss, Spearmint, St. John’s Wort (protection from baneful magic, lightning, and fire), Straw Flower, Sunflower, Tangerine, Thistle, Toadflax, Tonka Bean (protection from disease), True Unicorn Root (protection from baneful magic), Valerian, Venus Fly Trap, Violet, Willow, Witch Hazel, Wood Aloe, Wood Betony, Woodruff, Wormwood (protection against dangerous roads while traveling), Yerba Santa, Yew, Yucca (protection of your home)

Metals

Chromium

Lead

Iron

Nickel

Pewter

Steel

Titanium

Zinc

Lunar Phases

Waxing - to attract protective energy and positivity

Full - generalized protection 

Waning - to banish negativity, thus protecting the caster

Planets

Moon

Mars

Saturn

Days of the Week

Monday

Tuesday

Saturday

© 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 𝙰𝙳-𝙲𝙰𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙰

[fuckmeyer]

timewarp!twilight: a time travel au

[throughout the series, Bella Swan has prophetic dreams that reveal her future (or present predicament) in cryptic ways. but tho Bella can peek forward in time, her true power lies in the past.]

time first unzips when James sinks his teeth into Bella at the ballet studio.

the burning in her veins overwhelms her. for a delirious moment she seizes from venom & bleeds out on a hospital room's tile floor where her mother is giving birth. to her.

the Cullens barge into the studio. Bella's writhing on the ground. they never see the warp. a stunned James is defeated.

Bella says nothing, chalking it up to a near-death experience. ofc she can't unravel the fabric of time lol like what?? who does that???

over summer, night terrors haunt her when Edward is away.

the "good" dreams give her flashes of the future. wolves. light. cliffs. a stone antechamber. red hair. a casket.

it's the nightmares she fears the most.

her PTSD-fueled flashbacks feel so real, she unzips time to escape James's attack & wakes up in random places as if sleepwalking.

at first they're tiny jumps. a few minutes back. then several months before she meets Edward. then the day Renee leaves Charlie with Bella in tow.

the night after her disastrous birthday party, her nightmare dumps her in the back alley of a neon-lit diner.

this isn't home. not 2006, not 1996, not 1986, even...

disoriented, she stumbles in and sits at the counter. the folded newspaper by the napkin dispenser, the Philadelphia Herald, reads March 3rd, 1950.

oh god.

when she looks up, a familiar pixie-haired vampire stares back at her with moony gold eyes.

"you've kept me waiting a long time," says Alice, pushing a plate of pancakes toward her.

time zips. back in bed. morning. 2006. Bella scrambles to school to tell Edward about the time skips.

ofc, it's hard to speak when you're being sucker-punched in the gut by your first love's painful breakup monologue.

instead of confessing, Bella says goodbye.

October. November. December. January.

as the wolves shift and Laurent stops in for a visit snack, Forks gets all gunked up with paranormal vibes. Bella warps further back for longer periods. 1935. 1933. 1911. 1863.

luckily, she often crosses paths with the Cullens. as humans, she knows, they won't remember her. it's cathartic to see them, if only for a few moments...but it's never enough.

she pulls increasingly dangerous stunts to keep traveling. motorcycling. chasing wolves. stalking vampires. on & on.

Bella dives off a cliff to chase the visions.

she smacks the water & warps to 1918.

human Edward Masen immediately falls in love with a drenched & shivering Bella Swan. over the evening, she falls in love with him. again. ugh.

but was it a time skip, or a near-death experience? she wakes up coughing water, Jake breathing life into her on the beach.

Alice returns. with a renewed love for Edward (ugh), Bella jets off to Italy to save him & meet the Volturi.

back in forks, the vote ignites a fiery rage she'd buried for months.

how could they do this to her? how could they break her heart & leave her behind when she needed them?? did they even stop to think about Laurent??? the wolves?! VICTORIA?!!

just as she lunges for Edward to rip his stupid face off, time unzips in front of them & she vanishes.

further back than she's ever gone.

London. 1640s.

human Carlisle tries using a silver cross to defend himself against a starving vampire while Bella looks on.

when the vampire's eyes find hers, the horror of what Bella has been doing settles in like a dense fog.

with each time skip, Bella seals their fate.

not only is Bella the thread that ties the Cullens together in time, but Bella aligns the stars for every member to become a vampire.

in the 1640s, she is the scent that pulls the starving vampire away from Carlisle.

in 1863, María sees Bella's warp & pursues her until she finds confederate Jasper Hale on his way to Galveston.

in 1911, her time skip startles 16 y.o. Esme out of a tree, breaking the girl's leg. she is treated by Dr. Cullen.

in 1918, a cold & wet Bella gives Edward the flu.

in 1933, Carlisle spots Bella on his way home from the hospital & finds her so eerily familiar he calls out & rushes to catch up. frightened by the commotion, Royce et al leave a dying Rosalie in the street.

in 1935, warping into a forest pisses off a huge black bear. Emmett saves her & subsequently gets mauled.

in 1950, she listens to Alice tell the story of her only human memory: prophesizing as a little girl about the "lady in the blue jeans" who comes to visit, to the horror & disgust of her superstitious parents. they throw her in an insane asylum.

now, in 2006, she reappears & falls at the Cullens' feet. her face reflects their looks of shock.

it was her. it was always her.

& all because she ditched Alice & Jasper to confront James at the ballet studio.

"oh god," she whispers from the floor in a broken voice. tears blur her vision. Bella looks up at the family of vampires. "i think i've made a terrible mistake."

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale I

Chapter One

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn

Words: 5.1k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list, thx x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 23rd, 2005

The cab of the minivan jostled as it drove over the speed bump, entering the small parking lot of Forks High School. Camila, of course, didn’t have her own car, and even if she did, she doubted that her mother would allow her drive herself to school. Simple things like this, that she had not so long ago enjoyed so much, were no longer possible for her frail body. So there she sat, being driven to school by her mother. As if being a new student in the middle of the year didn’t already attract enough attention as it was. Either way, she knew it wasn’t worth the argument to try and convince her mother to let her ride the bus to school.

The car slowed to a stop as it arrived at the front of the building. Camila turned to her mother, giving her a peck on the cheek as a goodbye. “Be careful today, Sweetie. Remember, we’re just a call away if you need us. Okay?” She said, eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

Camila gave her mother a reassuring smile. “Promise.” She said, slipping out of the van and shutting the door swiftly, before her mother changed her mind and made her stay home. She pulled the hood of her jacked over her head, trying to avoid the rain that was beginning to sprinkle down from the sky as she wrapped it tightly around her torso. She stared at her worn out doc martins as they thudded softly on the tiled floors of the small high school, trying to avoid the constant eye contact from students around her. Going from such a large high school in such a large city to this was going to be a big adjustment, but she was happy to at least have the opportunity to socialize. 

Her eyes searched the halls as she attempted to find the front office, needing to pick up her schedule. Finally she found her destination. As her sore muscles struggled to open the heavy door, a large pale hand came into view, as the weight of the door dissipated. She looked up to find a broad face with an angular jawline. His eyes shone bright amber, his whole face unnaturally perfect as he towered over her. “Thanks.” She muttered softly, walking over the woman at the front desk. 

She looked up from her paperwork, giving a polite smile. “Camila Johnson?” She asked expectantly. Camila nodded, figuring that they must not get new students very often if she already knew her name just by looking at her face. It made her a bit nervous as well, knowing that she would definitely stick out like a sore thumb. The woman sorted through the papers on her desk, trying to find the right ones, as Camila picked at the edge of her worn out baggy t-shirt. Finally, she handed her a crisp paper, covered in what classes she would have, what times she would have them, and where they would be. 

She thanked the woman, turning to leave. She glanced back as she pushed against the door with her back, trying to use her body weight to her advantage. The boy who had opened the door for her, was now talking to the woman, a bright pink blush covering her cheeks. “Emmett! Here to pick up more late work for Edward?.” She asked, giggling slightly as she flushed even brighter. Camila scoffed internally, slightly disgusted by the display. 

The door to the office closed with a soft thud behind her as she began walking down the hallway once more. She glanced at the classroom numbers on the walls, attempting to make sense of the system used so she could find her first period. Finally, she found the correct room, sauntering through the open doorway, earning the stares of the students that were already seated waiting for the bell to ring.

——————

The first half of the day had flown by, anybody and everybody trying to have a conversation with her. A guy, Eric, who she had met in her English class earlier that day, was walking her to the cafeteria, promising to save her a seat with his friends. He was nice enough, although maybe a bit too flirtatious. He definitely wasn’t her type, usually leaning towards quieter guys as her preference, but he was nice enough. Although, dating was definitely not what she needed, and she had no intention of trying to find a boyfriend.

She had dated before, had even had a boyfriend when she had been diagnosed, but like most people, once the shock of the news had worn off, he had left her. Nobody really wanted to be with someone who didn’t even have the strength to do normal everyday tasks. As soon as she told him that she couldn’t have sex like they had before, he was gone. 

It was shitty, sure, but she couldn’t exactly blame him. He was a teenage boy and they all wanted the same thing in the end right? Whatever he wanted, sex, marriage, a family, a future in general, she knew she couldn’t give him. So what was the use in being angry? All it would do was tire her out by the end.

Eric rushed forward, pushing the cafeteria door open for Camila to walk through, giving her his best polite grin. She muttered a thanks as she stepped into the crowded large room. He led her to the line for food, yammering on and on about the school paper and some article that they would be running soon. She tried to pay attention to the words leaving his mouth, but he was talking so quick and she was beginning to get a headache.

She tried her best to look like she was interested as they made their way through the line and paid for their food. Finally, they made it to the table and she could sit. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and didn’t know how much more she could take, so she was grateful for the hard plastic seat that she was now perched on. 

Eric went around the table, introducing the new faces. Angela, she had seen in her history class, she noted, and Jessica, in her biology. Bella, another new girl, seemed distracted, staring at the opposite end of the cafeteria. Trying to follow her view, Camila’s eyes landed on a group of teens, one boy, two girls, all three shockingly attractive.

“Who are they?” She asked curiously. 

Angela turned her head to their direction. “The Cullens.” She said simply.

Jessica leaned forward, wanting in the gossip, clearly. “Doctor and Mrs. Cullen’s foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska two years ago.” She said. Camila instantly recognized the name. 

This was the Doctor that she would be seeing later that week. The very reason that she was there sitting in that cafeteria on the opposite side of the country then she had been a week previously. Doctor Carlisle Cullen. She wasn’t aware that the man had children, much less children that she would be attending school with, and she hoped that this fact wouldn’t make it that much more difficult to keep her sickness a secret.

“They kinda keep to themselves.” Angela explained.

“They’re all adopted. The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett, they’re a thing. I’m not even sure that’s legal.” She said dramatically. 

“Jess, they’re not actually related.” Angela interjected, earning a scoff from Jessica and a snicker from Camila. The blonde in question was absolutely stunning, prettier than anyone Camila had ever seen before, and Emmett, the boy from the office earlier that morning, was definitely big. He towered over everyone else sitting with him, looking ridiculously out of place at the small round table.

Jessica continued. “But they live together.” She argued. “The little dark haired girl, Alice, she’s really weird.” Camila frowned hearing her description. The girl, Alice, was stunningly beautiful as well, although not as stunning as Rosalie. 

Camila never cared for the judgment of others, especially when Jessica herself clearly didn’t actually know the group of teens well enough to make those assumptions in the first place.

“Edward must be sick or taking some trip right now. He’s been absent for a week or so. He’s totally gorgeous, like the rest of them obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care.” She scoffed, making it blatantly obvious that she did in fact care, a lot. Bella shrunk in her seat at the mention of the teen. Maybe she had a thing for him or something. Camila couldn’t exactly blame her if he looked anything like his adopted siblings.

Suddenly, another figure joined the table, a mop of curly honey blonde hair covering his face as he sat his tray full of food down. “Who’s that?” Camila asked, drawn by curiosity. 

Jessica scoffed again. That was starting to get really annoying. “Jasper Hale. Rosalie is his sister. Like real sister. He like always looks like he’s in pain. He’s single as far as publicly, put a total weirdo too. Anyway, don’t waste your time.” She said, rolling her eyes.

As if he had heard his name being called, Jasper’s eyes shot over to their direction, amber eyes looking directly into Camila’s emerald eyes. Her heart had nearly stopped all together. She felt like a little kid that got caught with her hand in the cookie jar and she quickly averted her gaze to the food in front of her. From what she had briefly seen, he was absolutely breathtaking, like the rest of them. However, there was something different about him. Something that she recognized as sadness and pain in his eyes, and it intrigued her. She cleared her throat awkwardly as she attempted to wipe the image of his eyes from her head. “I wasn’t planning on it.” She said, poking her mashed potatoes with her plastic fork.

——————

The rest of the day had flown by just as quickly as the first half, and before she realized, she was walking into her last class of the day, calculous. She had always been fairly decent when it came to math, that being the reason why she was in an advanced class. So she hoped, despite her fatigue, that the class would go by simply.

A balding man, standing next to the classes chalkboard looked toward her, smiling welcomely. “Welcome Ms. Johnson. Follow along as best you can until you get caught up.” He paused looking around to find a clear seat for her. “Ahh, Mr. Hale.” He called.

Jasper looked up from his place at his table in the back of the class. Camila’s breath hitched in her throat. Really? Of all people, him? She didn’t have anything against him, sure, but she also clearly would have issues acting normal around him. 

She really needed to pull herself together. He was just an unnaturally handsome guy, who she may or may not have been extremely attracted to. “Jasper will help you with notes, I’m sure. He’s the top of the class, so feel free to go to him for any help you need.” He offered up. She rose an eyebrow, wondering if Jasper felt as willing to help as the teacher was making it seem. 

She sauntered over to the empty seat next to the pale teen, dropping her bag at her feet as she scooted the chair towards the desk. The teacher, Mr. Grey, gave instructions on which pages of the textbook to work on before releasing the class to work with their partners. 

Jasper paused, sucking in a steady breath, trying to test the waters of her scent. He steeled himself, trying to keep the confusion from showing on his face. There was something different about her blood, and this took the edge off of his normal thirst. He couldn’t quite figure it out, but was thankful for the fact that his throat would burn much less than usual while next to her. 

He looked over to her finally, smiling awkwardly as his golden waves hung in front of his face. He had seen her earlier in the cafeteria during lunch, but now he had a better view. Her hair was pulled away from her face now, and he could fully assess her beauty. It wasn’t often that he was pleasantly surprised by someones appearance, much less a human’s, but she was absolutely breathtaking. Along with the beauty however, was something else. She looked… tired. She had light purple bags under her eyes that made it look like she hadn’t slept in days.

“Hi, I’m Jasper.” He greeted, finally speaking up, a slight southern twang to his voice. 

She looked up to his face, smiling back politely. “I’m Camila.” She said gently.

He laughed lightly. “Oh I know.” He said, gaining a raised eyebrow in return. “Not very often we get new students here, let alone two in the same month. Word travels fast.” He joked.

Camila snickered in response. “I guess that’s fair.” She said, looking down at her work as she calculated the first equation. “You don’t need to help me if you don’t want to. We were further along at my last school.” She said, leaving out the fact that her ‘last school’ was really just her mother teaching her in their living room back at their old home in Orlando. 

He hummed lightly, nodding as he began to work on his own worksheet. “So what brought you to Forks?” He asked curiously, trying his best to create casual conversation. It had been so long since he had even attempted having a conversation with a human that wasn’t prompted by something that he needed in return, but there was something about her that drew him in. That made him want to know her. To understand her.

Quickly trying to come up with a reason, she spoke. “I guess my parents just wanted a change of scenery.” She stated simply. It was a stupid reason, not very concrete at all, but it was all that she could come up with at that time. 

“Well, you can’t get much different from Florida than here, huh?” He joked, laughing softly. His laugh sounded like bells ringing in her ears, a surprisingly beautiful sound. She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts from her mind. 

“Guess not.” She smiled back, letting silence overtake them as they continued scrolling down answers on their loose leaf paper. As she worked through textbook, going from number to number on the page, fatigue began to attack her body, the ache of her bones and muscles from the day beginning to catch up to her. It had been such a long time since she had been forced to be alert for such an extended period of time, that being one of the reasons that it had taken so much convincing for her parents to allow her to attend the public school. Her eyebrows pinched together in pain, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. It was her last class of the day, and soon she would be free. It would be over soon, and she would go home. Easy enough, right?

Jasper looked towards her, feeling the shift in her mood. He was confused, not quite sure of the feelings that she was projecting. Earlier he had been able to decipher her emotions. Nervousness, apprehension, humored, but now he couldn’t completely tell. He was about to ask her if she was feeling okay when the bell rang, signaling the end of the day and dismissing the students. Camila let out a small sigh of relief, grabbing her bag from the ground and stuffing her work inside before pulling herself up from the chair with some difficulty, wincing slightly. The movement wasn’t lost on Jasper, but only confused him more. 

“See you tomorrow.” She said softly, giving a small wave before walking out of the classroom. Jasper was frozen in place as students moved around him. He was still trying to place the strong emotions that had been radiating from her. Sadness? Maybe. Pain? Yes. Determination? Definitely. Some mixture of the three that only made confused and left him wondering.

Camila let out a sigh of relief as she saw her mother’s car finally enter the parking lot. She hadn’t been waiting long, but she was so ready to go home and rest that she was becoming wildly impatient. Pulling the door open, she plopped herself down onto the worn seat and closed it behind herself. “How was your first day, sweetie?” Her mother asked cheerily.

Giving the best smile she could muster with how fatigued her mind had become, she gave a small thumbs up. “Just ready to nap.” She said.

Her mother gave sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’re just exhausted. Lay back. I’ll wake you when we get home.” She reassured. 

——————

January 24th, 2005

Camila’s second day of school was somehow even rainier than the first, and by the time she had made it to the front door of the school, her jacket had become completely soaked. She reluctantly pulled the wet fabric from her body, knowing that it would no longer help keep her warm. Spinning the dial of her locker, she entered the combination and swung the door open. Tossing the wet fabric into the locker, she grabbed her textbooks and closed it back up. 

She looked down to her bare arms, seeing the slight bruises left along the skin. Another side effect of her sickness. She hoped no one would pay to close attention to the discoloration, not wanting to have to make excuses for the marks. Making a mental note to bring an extra jacket to keep in her locker for future instances, she made her way to her first class of the day.

——————

By the time her calculus class had arrived, she had hoped her jacket would be dry. However, when she pulled it from the metal confines of her locker, she was disappointed to find it was still damp. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to wear it, already being cold as it was. If she became anymore cold she was sure that she would be shivering and it would add to the likelihood of getting a cold. 

Jasper sat in his usual seat, waiting for Camila to enter through the door at the front of the classroom. He had found himself looking forward to seeing her all day. Ever since he had met her the day before, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. It had been the first time since turning that he had really missed sleep, knowing that it would’ve made the time pass by quicker. 

Finally, he saw her thin frame enter the classroom, followed by a tall darker skinned teen. Tyler Crowley. He had seen the boy sitting next to her early that day in the cafeteria, and thought nothing of it. Now seeing Camila laugh at something the teen had said as he carried her textbooks for her, he wasn’t so sure. 

Jealously sparked in his chest, and at first he thought that it had come from somebody else around him, but slowly he realized it was coming from himself. He scolded himself, knowing there was no logical reason he should be jealous since she was human and he all he could do was hurt her in the end.

He averted his gaze, trying his best to act nonchalant and as if he hadn’t been waiting all day to see her. She slowly made her way to their shared desk, draping her jacket across the back of her chair before taking a seat. She let out an exasperated sigh, sinking into the cool plastic as she relaxed her shoulders.

The second day had been much more difficult to get through than the first. Luckily, nobody had mentioned the light bruises littering her arms, and she was relieved that she had successfully evaded the topic. However, if she thought yesterday was exhausting, she was about to drop dead then. Camila had begun to wonder why exactly she had put up such a fight to get to go to school like normal kids, but in the end, she knew it would be worth it. She would make friends and try her best to fit in as long as her body would allow. 

After deciding that he had waited the appropriate amount of time, his eyes flickered over to her, as he soaked in her appearance. He could feel the exhaustion radiating off of her and wished that he could’ve done something to help, but knew he couldn’t without seeming wildly out of place. He could sense that if he were to shift her mood in that moment that it would be very far from natural.

His eyes landed on her arms. Thin with her bones sticking out prominently. Light purple splotches littering her skin. Worst case scenarios entered his mind as the concern for her safety grew. He tried to shake the feeling from his head, knowing that he shouldn’t jump to any conclusions. Maybe she was just insanely clumsy? He sat there, attempting to convince himself of that as she turned to him, giving him a small bashful smile. “Hi.” She said softly. 

He forced a smile onto his face. “Hi, darlin’.” He said, southern accent seeping through, causing a blush to creep up her neck. She looked down at her hands, nervously spinning the rings that sat loosely on her thin fingers, while she tried to tame her heart inside of her chest. His grin only grew as he heard her accelerating heart rate. 

He wasn’t sure what exactly had gotten into him. Typically he tried to stay far away from any human that he came into contact with, but he couldn’t really help himself. There was no harm in a friendship with her, right? Edward was doing the same thing with Bella, so it’s not like he could give him shit about it.

He knew that feelings for him were amplified, that being the natural occurrence for his kind, and he couldn’t help but feel attached to her already in a strange way. Surely he could blame it on being intrigued by her, but in truth, he wasn’t quite sure if that was the whole story. He was confused by her scent and her emotions, but deep down, he knew that wasn’t the only thing drawing him to her. But he also knew that he needed to slow down because he had barely just met the girl.

Sure, he was usually much more apprehensive with being around humans too much, due to the fact that he was still relatively new to the whole ‘vegetarian’ life style and had the most trouble out of his siblings when it came to controlling his hunger, but in reality, he felt more confident in his self control around her than any other human ever. Of course her blood still appealed to him, but not as intensely as he was used to feeling, and that was incredibly refreshing. To not feel like he would lose control at any moment for once.

Camila cleared her throat, trying to force the blush from her cheeks. “How are you liking the rain?” Jasper asked casually, gesturing towards the damp jacket.

She let out a small laugh. “It’s great, very refreshing.” She joked, earning a chuckle from the immortal teen. 

Jasper looked to her, unable to wipe his face clear of the wide grin. It was odd, the feeling in his stomach, and he couldn’t exactly place what it was. For fuck sake, they had barely spoken to each other and he already felt as if he would melt into a puddle on the floor. 

The tardy bell rang shrilly throughout the room, causing Camila to flinch back in irritation, the noise not helping her already persistent headache. Mr. Grey stood at the front of the class, clapping his hand together to gain their attention. “Okay, class. We will be continuing the pages we worked on yesterday, so I want you to work with your desk partners on that. Whatever you do not finish, you with need to do for homework tonight. Got it? Good.” He said, turning back to sit at his desk. 

Jasper peered over to her once more. “I’ll do the first half, you the second and we can swap answers?” He suggested, figuring it would help ease her exhaustion somewhat.

Camila raised an eyebrow. “You trust me to get them all right?” She asked teasingly.

He snickered, nodding lightly. “You’re smart. You’ve got this.” he said simply. So they turned to do their work separately, carrying on with mundane conversation. Camila worked through the problems one by one, a dull ache growing behind her brow as her concentration began weaning.

Then, suddenly, Jasper could feel the same feeling from the previous day immolating from her. He peered over to her to see her leaned over the worksheet, head in hands, rubbing her temples. “Are you okay?” He asked, concern etched in his voice. 

Her eyes flickered over to him, clearing her throat. “Just a headache.” She muttered. 

“I can finish the work, if you want.” He offered, wanting to try and help in anyway that he could. 

She gave him a small smile. “Thanks, but I got it.” She reassured. Sure, she was fatigued and  both physically and mentally exhausted from the day, but she was determined to make it through without any help from others. She was determined to prove to both herself and her parents that going back to public school was not the wrong decision and that she could handle it. She only had a half an hour left, she could do this.

——————

January 25th, 2005

Wednesday had arrived, and Camila already knew she would be missing the last half of her classes, having had an appointment scheduled at the hospital with Dr. Cullen. She had made sure to tell her group of friends in preparation that she had a dentist appointment, trying to come up with a believable excuse for missing half a day. She knew she would miss her time with Jasper for the day, having only the last class of the day with him, and it surprised her to realize that she was sad about this. They didn’t know each other very well, but she had constantly found her mind wandering back to him at random times.

So, much to her dismay, there she sat, with her parents, in Dr. Cullen’s office, going over possible treatments in hopes to prolong her life. He, like his children, was extremely attractive. Camila wondered how they all had that remarkable beauty alike when they were not even blood related in the first place. He was currently on the topic of chemo, something that she was well aware was painful and very expensive as well as had a very low chance of actually helping. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted as his office door swung open harshly. 

There stood, a tall brunette teen, face just as perfect as the doctor sitting in front of her. To her horror, she realized that it must be Edward Cullen. She had heard murmurs of his return around the school that day, but had yet to come in contact with him since she had left just before lunch. 

He had a panicked expression gracing his face as he hurried over to his father. She hoped that miraculously somehow he wouldn’t notice her sitting there, or else her secret would definitely not stay hidden long. It wouldn’t take a genius to unravel the truth, once he saw her here and then at school the next day, and that would be the end. If everyone knew she was the little girl who had gotten cancer then all the sympathy would start flooding in. It would be pointless then, hoping for normalcy. 

As these thoughts raced through her mind, his eyes flickered over to her, eyes taking in her features quickly. He had seen her face before, he realized that those same emerald irises that had been burned into Jasper’s mind when he had finally returned from his trip to Alaska.

He turned, shaking the realization from his mind as he leaned down to whisper into his father’s ear, lips moving too quickly to read and speaking too low to understand for any of the humans in the room. Dr. Cullen stood abruptly. “I’m so sorry, I’m needed in the emergency department quickly. I’ll be back in just a few minutes.” He apologized sweetly. 

He walked swiftly, Edward following, to his office door, swinging it open on its hinges. Camila stood, sighing softly as she turned to address her parents. “I’m going to go find the restroom.” She said, not wanting to stay there with anxiety eating her alive. Worrying about what Edward would figure out, and who he would tell. 

Her mother stood quickly. “Do you want me to go with you?” She asked. Camila shook her head, offering a light smile as she followed the path to the office door. Once outside of the room, she looked up from her shoes only to find the whole group of Cullens huddled across the hall, all muttering in deep conversation. And, of course, just because she had terrible luck, as the door clicked shut, Jasper’s eyes shot up to find her own. 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she turned away, hiding behind her curtain of hair as she swiftly made her way down the hall to the restroom. Her heart pounded in her ears as she panicked. It hadn’t even been a week and now everybody was going to find out. So much for a fresh start. Sure, they had only seen her leave the office, but they would know something was up, and she knew it wouldn’t take them long to figure it out. And that’s if the didn’t figure out from Carlisle first.

It was one thing when it was just Edward who had seen her, but now the whole family had, and worst of all, Jasper. He would definitely be bringing it up next time that she saw him in class, if she was lucky enough to not run into him again sooner. She had to think of an excuse before then, or at lease a reason to convince him to keep her secret to himself and his family. But her mind was completely void of any ideas and all she could do was hope that she could find one before school tomorrow. 

Next Chapter

Tag List:

@itsmytimetoodream

[surelysilly]

i honestly really love using 2nd POV, but it's so rare it actually works for me... something about it just scratches that itch of depersonalization and derealization, honestly

Around you, the stationary room of yesterday is no more. Gone are the table and lounging chair, wide canopy bed and boring wall decorations. In its place are amorphous and glittering clouds of star dust and plasma, distant twinkling red stars, and polished mosaic tiled stairways jut in every direction. It's still settling, still coming to form, what it always should have been. You float idly in drifting wisps of vapor, and close your eyes briefly, comforted. It doesn’t, however, take long for him to find you. The steps guide him toward you, all roads leading home, and a thin stone bridge builds itself beneath your feet — star shaped light filters through its carved lattice design. "Danny?" You sink to the new ground, boots catching on the grooves, and turn to regard Jasper — affection-worry-fear-fear-fear — with lidded, green eyes, and say despondently, "Danny isn't here right now."

[silentiaray]

Meet beautiful characters of one of the most talented artists of my community - Mussy_Zefirchik!

Masterpost

Lycoris / Cory A judge, who knows all laws by heart. Studied law prior to the catastrophe and is quite successful in his field on the Moon. Quartz's deputy. In his work he is cold-blooded and unemotional, he's all after justice and honesty, and exceptionally complicated cases attract him the most. Is good at psychology. He's often found at his desk with some paperwork or discussing with his colleagues. In his free time Lycoris prefers to read or to pursue his hobby - butterflies. This harsh at first glance judge has a passion for studying alates, he also has a small collection at home. His high level allows him to modify his wings from time to time, to mimic his favorite specimens. In communication he's calm, keeps eye contact and often straightforward, but tactful. If you're close enough - Lycoris won't mind smiling and discussing something fleeting and close to his heart.

Yukki One of the olds who survived the disaster. Kind, sometimes cunning and doesn’t mind helping with advice. The character of a ringtail often manifests itself in slight carelessness, but he is accustomed to approach his work meticulously. At the fourth level, he lost his mentor, but survived, taking refuge in the remote corners of the Glass Desert - the place of his birth. Remembering the landscapes of the Desert and the tall glass columns, he decided that he would become a glazier. Using moon sand as a material, Yukki created various glass items, wanting to lighten the mood of those around him with bright colors. For a long time it was just a game, but closer to the ninth level it became a profession. Now he creates glass for window frames and showcases, tiles, stained glass and many other products, helping in architecture. The hobby is not far from the business - Yukki often makes vases and small glass decorations, which he is always ready to give to those who wish. He has a ward named Maple. At first, the newly made mentor had a burning desire to pass on his skills “from hand to hand,” but their desires in choosing a profession diverged. Despite this, he is not angry. On the contrary, he is proud and glad of the independent choice of his ward.

Maple The owner of a small tea house called "Warmth". Despite the rather “noisy” composition, she has a calm and extremely friendly character. She always wanted to create a cozy nook where slimes can relax after a hard day or just have a peaceful conversation with each other. Some slimes say that they simply can't imagine her without a cup of strong brewed tea in her paw. The unusual look of her horns is her own unique fire mutation.

Pumpkin / Pum Since childhood, he was very curious and often hot-tempered. Because of his mentor’s hobby, he liked books and often asked to read them, even if they contained scary stories or abstruse phrases. Gradually this grew into an incredible rush to learn as much as possible. He can be called well-read, but this fact did not bring him much benefit. Pumpkin wanted to try himself in many things, to find something special and pleasant, but found it hard to decide what he really wanted to work with. Now Pum only helps his mentor on the night shift in the tea house, snacking on various sweets and talking with visitors. His relationships with others are very soft. He loves to listen and share rumors, and occasionally scares kids if they make too much noise. He treats Maple like an “auntie” and is a little jealous of her unusual horns.

Jasper Yukki's second ward. Extremely joyful kid, who likes to explore everything around him, especially his master's workshop. Loves to interact with slimes a bit older than him, because they know and can tell more. Already interested in joining community, making friends indiscriminately. You've definitely seen this bun at least once a day! Growing up he didn't receive any Fire or Boom plorts, because Yukki didn't want to repeat his previous mistake, so he let his ward pick his own path. But it seems those worries were in vain, Jasper questions his mentor non-stop about his workshop and glassware in general; frequently helps with little things in the workshop. It's not very hard to guess which plort he wants to get next.

[rachaelmayo]

This is Malachite Sentinel from 2021, a personal favorite. It's one of those designs that sat in my to-do pile for years, until the right color scheme gelled in my brain. What finally kicked the project into high gear was the stone in the ellipse to the left of the dragon. That bit of reddish-brown was the balance I wanted with the color scheme - it provided an interesting accent color that I don't usually think of using with "malachite" colors.

There's a lot of stuff involved in this project... The dragon and its light-colored surroundings is a single layer, and was done with watercolor, Prismacolor pencil, and gold paint pen over an ink drawing. The large stone in the ellipse is called "sunrise chrysocolla" (aka Sonora Sunset/Sunrise or simply chrysocolla cuprite). There are black color-treated agates and dessert jasper along the top, and one small malachite on the upper right. There are glass tiles and a gob of shiny bits. The circle designs (and other background paper elements) are fancy scrapbook paper.

[billycorn]

Timeless

A ficlet of an explorer's au in which H&P lose at Temporal Tower. (Fair warning, angst ahead!)

______

An explosion rocked Temporal Tower, throwing Buizel from her feet, and through the dust and flashes of lightning, she glimpsed Jasper taking flight, narrowly avoiding the Dragon Pulse which chased him across the sky, cleaving the clouds.

Turning sharply, the Rufflet dropped like a stone, singeing his feathers on the laser beam. He took a deep breath and roared, but it was barely a squeak in the face of the Legend. Still, Jasper's body flared with a red light, his Bulk Up sending more power through his tiny body and allowing him to fly that little bit faster. At the last second, he flipped, striking out with his tiny talons, but his Close Combat simply bounced off Dialga's tough armour and the dragon spun, swatting him from the sky with a blow of its mighty tail.

Buia dove, catching Jasper before his battered body could crack against the stones. She pulled him close to her chest, and her eyes flitted about. Purple lightning split the sky and the stone tiles of Temporal Spire cracked and raced away on torrents of wind. Dialga roared and staggered, falling to it's knees as an orange light pulsed in it's diamond core before rippling outwards across its scales.

Her eyes widening, Buia's gaze desperately flicked past Dialga, to the altar. That was it, they didn't need to defeat Dialga, if she could just get the Time Gears in place, they could still save everyone!

Dialga roared once more, an outcry of pain and suffering, and a thunderbolt fell from the sky, striking the altar, obliterating it entirely. Her face falling, Buia clutched her partner tighter and Jasper coughed.

He smiled weakly, the expression a painful contrast to his scattered feathers and bloodied plumage. "Buia, the sky is falling."

To Buia's horror, the sky was indeed falling. The space over temporal tower cracked and shattered like glass, a powerful energy wave bursting through the splinter, and with it, Dialga's eyes began to burn red. The Legend glared at the ruined pair before it and drew in a mighty breath, a ball of blue energy forming at it's mouth.

Her gaze falling to Jasper, she brushed debris from his plumage and smiled. "I'm really sorry, J."

Jasper's brows furrowed and he looked strangely at his partner. A tear slipped down her cheek and she nodded.

"I'm sorry I ate your dinner that time. Sorry for telling Loudred that it was you who stole his power band. Sorry for setting you on fire." The tears came thick and fast now and Buia ran a hand over his cheek. As the wind grew and the noise reached a fever pitch, Buia's words were lost to the wind, and Jasper didn't catch this last part; a shame really, it was rather important.

"But I'm not sorry for pulling you from the surf. I would do it all over again. Thank you for everything, my irreplaceable partner."

Dialga's energy peaked and it released it's Roar of Time, the attack tearing free the last remnants of Temporal Tower's foundations. The tower collapsed and as the attack reached them, Buia pulled Jasper close, burying her head in his feather's. Thankfully, that was the last thing she felt, the attack was too quick, too powerful, for the pain to set in, only the warmth of Jasper's feathers remained, that and... silence.

Slowly, Buia raised her head, her eyes struggling to open against the grime and dust which caked her once soft coat. The world around her was cloaked in darkness, rocks hung frozen in midair and the clouds overhead didn't move.

Patting herself all over, Buia glanced about in disbelief. "Are we alive?"

"Unfortunately," groaned Jasper.

He rolled from her lap, onto the cold grass and stood slowly, stretching his wings experimentally and giving a few test flaps. He stood on one leg, tucking the other into the dirt ridden feathers of his lower body.

"Where are we?" Buia breathed, standing and spinning in a slow circle.

Glancing at an odd-looking rock, Jasper's head cocked and he took the skies, his flight shaky at first. From above, he could see the darkness stretched on forever, the horizon lost in murk. Below, the earth was pock-marked with scorches, immortalised for all time. One particularly large burned patch rested beneath Buia's feet. Ironic that they'd awaken here, almost as if this, where it all began to fall apart, were made timeless simply to taunt them.

Flying down to land, Jasper ruffled his feathers and plucked some of the dead ones free. "We're in Amp Plains."

Buia planted her hands on her hips. "Are you sure?"

"Certain, and what's more, this is the Dark Future."

Buia groaned, her head falling. "I was worried you'd say that."

His head tilting, Jasper looked at her, the unspoken question thick in the air.

Buia just shrugged. "It feels different here."

Surprisingly, she was right. Apart from the obvious lack of sunshine, the Dark Future held several differences from the past, including the atmosphere. The Dark Future felt heavy, imposing, as if an invisible hand were reaching from the shadows, it's grip slowly tightening around your throat and squeezing the air from your lungs.

Jasper couldn't believe the past would feel this intense so soon after the planet's paralysis, though he didn't have any evidence to support that. With time frozen, was it possible for the Dark Future to get, well, darker? It certainly felt like it had last time they were here, though it's possible that was the stress playing on Jasper's nerves. Agh, thinking about it was useless, he'd simply have to find evidence as to whether this was the past or the future, then he could...

Buia arrived at the conclusion a second later. Wringing her hands, she took a deep breath and glanced at her partner. "So, what now?"

Jasper laughed, slow and quiet at first, but it quickly rose, becoming an uproarious chortle, drifting across the wasteland. "What now? Buia, we failed! There's nothing left to do!"

Her face falling, Buia flicked her tails around and ran a paw soothingly over them. "So, we'll try again."

"Again?"

"If this is the future, Celebi must be here. She can send us back, and we'll try again."

"It won't make a difference, don't you get that?! Dialga is too powerful. We are too weak. We are not enough."

Buia's fur bristled and she clenched her fist, her apprehension quickly being replaced by something with much more fire. "Then we'll find Grovyle, too!"

His face setting like stone, Jasper's voice turned to ice. "We don't even know if he's alive."

"He wouldn't lose to Dusknoir," scoffed Buia.

"We did." Jasper stared hard at his partner, and felt something in his chest ice over. "We lost to Team Skull at Apple Woods. We lost to Grovyle at Quicksand Cave and Crystal Crossing. We lost to Dusknoir when he grabbed us, and if not for Grovyle, Dusknoir would've beaten us twice more." Jasper pointed fervently at the scorch mark under Buia's feet. "If not for Dusknoir we would've lost here, too! Buia, we are not enough."

Jasper saw it, he saw the words click over in Buia's mind, and circle dangerously, and he saw her spirit break. It happened so fast, the sag in her shoulders, and the thud of her tails in the dirt as they slipped from her paws. It was like all the fight, all the life, was taken from her; taken by her partner.

Her head down, Buia turned and began trudging away, her tails dragging in the dirt.

Jasper threw his wings up in disbelief. "Where are you going?"

Pausing, Buia glanced over her shoulder. "Home. I'm... tired."

That, Jasper could understand. He fell into step behind Buia, wordlessly following her home. Unable to keep from reminiscing on the last time they left Amp Plains, Jasper wondered what Buia was thinking about. Probably nothing, she was never one to think to hard about things. That thought almost made him smile, almost.

Eventually, the pair arrived at the Crossroads to Treasure Town. Buia glanced down the path to the beach, then towards Town. The ocean used to carry music from Spinda's, and lively chatter from the marketplace, this silence wasn't right.

Dragging her feet, Buia marched up the stairs to the Guild, blanching upon seeing the fallen totem poles and the destroyed Wigglytuff facade. The whole thing had been replaced by an ugly wooden structure, except for a hole which had been hastily covered with a blue tarp, making it look like an icy eye, gazing out over the lifeless world. An iron gate barred the entrance and Buia gazed distantly at the grate.

Back then, she had been all too ready to jump on that grate, ready to find out what she was made of. Now, all she felt was a roaring anxiousness. Would anyone answer? If they did, would it be their fellow guildmates or strangers?

Sucking a breath in, she wrapped her arms tight around her chest and stepped onto the grate. For the longest time, there was no answer, so Buia called, "Diglett, are you there?"

The silence stretched on, finally being broken by the sound of someone crawling, followed by a muffled argument. Buia was about to call down again when the gate slid open and an Azumarill stepped out.

"Team Typhoon," Azumarill said fondly. "I never thought I'd see you again."

Jasper's eyes narrowed and he hopped closer. "Do we know you?"

Azumarill scoffed, and he nodded. "You did once. You saved me from Drowzee."

"Azurill?" Exclaimed Jasper, his voice peaking.

"Let's talk inside. It's not safe out here." Azumarill waved them in and promptly jumped down the ladder.

Buia followed him, unable to see the once cheerful boy in the solemn Pokemon before her. She slid down the ladder, only briefly stopping at the first floor. She couldn't bare to turn around and really see it, she was certain it would be just another knife to her heart.

The guild's second floor was tidy, but it felt quiet and empty. Several torches filled the room with a meagre light and struggled to fight the cold which seeped through the stones. Croagunk's cauldron was stone cold, waiting for it's master's return; unfortunately, it would be waiting an eternity. In the centre of the room, Azumarill waited beside a Dugtrio.

Buia's head tilted as she eyed the Dugtrio. "Diglett?"

Smiling sadly, Dugtrio said, "Hi, Buia."

When Jasper landed next to her with a light ruffle of his feathers, Buia didn't so much as glance at him. It was all she could do to clutch at her chest and whisper, "what happened?"

Dugtrio and Azumarill shared a look, and eventually Azumarill sighed. "We waited for you, but you never came home. When time froze, we assumed you were gone. The guild got an influx of requests, and they tried to help as many people as possible but..."

As Azumarill trailed off, Dugtrio took over. "Things just kept getting worse. More and more Pokemon were losing themselves. We lost Chatot first. The Guildmaster wasn't the same after that. Loudred, Sunflora, Corphish, Croagunk and Chimecho, one by one they... Pretty soon, it was just Bidoof, Dad, Marill, Azurill, and me."

Her heart catching in her throat, Buia's eyes widened. "Where are they?"

Azumarill took a deep breath and hardened his face. "Dugtrio went out to find food and never came back. Bidoof and Marill went after him. We haven't seen any of them since."

Buia shook her head. "That can't be right. Marill wouldn't just leave you behind, he wouldn't-" Her lips trembling, Buia froze mid-sentence as Jasper's words hit her all over again. They really had failed, and it was put on full display for the world to see.

Jasper, the one who spent years fighting for a sunrise he'd never see, and Buia, the one chosen by the relic fragment, were nothing more than dreamers who never stood a chance. Beautiful little fools, that is all a child should be, so these two, still so young, why had that been taken from them and made timeless?

[goldeneyedgirl]

AILess Whumptober Day 27: Locked Up/Immortal

The final entry, late but complete! I figured that I put Alice through the ringer all the time, it might be Jasper's turn. I had a very specific image of how this would look in my head that did not want to be translated to the page. I've also looked at this so long that I cannot look at it any longer.

So, enjoy whatever this is! I hope you all enjoyed Whumptober and were suitably depressed after my contributions to this event my loves <3

iron & stone. (day 27: imprisoned/immortal).

twilight, alice/jasper, pg, one-sided vampire alice/demon jasper.

very non-graphic wound description

She finds him in an old church in Tulsita, Texas. It’s a tiny place, one that has less than thirty people.

It’s a grim little town, with worn buildings and cracked roads; the air is thick and hot, even late at night. It’s the perfect place to be forgotten about, to be trapped. It’s a place that feels like it isn’t part of the real world, and like maybe time has frozen.

There’s an edge of dread in the air, and she has to wonder about that.

But mostly, she just feels anticipation.

It’s taken her thirty years to find him, she’s looked everywhere. She’s read everything. She’s recorded all her visions and made all the notes. She’s learned Spanish, Italian, Hebrew, Greek, and Latin for him. She’s practically a scholar on him and his kind now.

She’s still nervous.

(There are three kinds of demons - the oldest ones who have existed for always, those are the ones that should never been disturbed or called upon. Then there are the ones that are born naturally - very rare but possible. And then there are the ones that are made. Not like vampires - in the demon world vampires are half-breed cockroaches, endemic to humanity, according to the books she’s read. The change isn’t half the pain and suffering that being turned into a demon is - she knows that.)

She walks through forest surrounding the building carefully - it’s unlikely that anyone will see her, but she prefers to err on the side of cautious. Especially since it’s very, very clear that someone does visit regularly (relatively speaking, of course - time moves very differently for immortals.)

The church is thoroughly abandoned, the pews rotten and broken and the floor tiles cracked and scattered - what would have been an expensive point of pride lost to time and neglect. What is left of the prayer books are ruined cardboard covers covered in mould. The altar is pulled right down and destroyed; all but one of the windows is boarded up. Glass crunches underfoot - a mix of the remain window’s panes, and broken beer bottles scattered around.

And as she stands there and looks around, she wonders how anyone set foot in this place, even just to hide and drink, when she can feel his presence right here? That boiling rage, that uneasy feeling in the air - the gift of animal fear, that whatever this place contains is dangerous and they need to run. It’s all around her, yelling at her to leave and never come back.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Edward and Carlisle would be furious she’s come here by herself. When she’d worked it all out, when she’d told them what her visions had shown her, they’d acted like he was dead and gone and she’d just have to get used to walking the world alone. They expected grief and she’d been confused - Carlisle had insisted that he was as good as dead, and Alice needed to make her peace with that.

Alice could never bring him home. That the Cullen residence, the Cullen name, had no place for monsters and terrors and the things that little children hide from. And she had agreed with them politely, told them that she understood. And she did. They had thought she was mourning, taking her time to adjust to what her life would look like now.

Esme had tried to talk with her, but Alice had refused, and just closed herself up in her bedroom. And they had let her be.

They hadn’t expected her to pack her things in the same satchel she arrived with, to leave behind her locket with a letter thanking them for their hospitality; shedding the Cullen name and creed like an unfashionable winter coat.

If there was no place for monsters amongst the Cullens, then she certainly wasn’t welcome. They forget that she was a nomad, a vampire before she arrived at their house with a smile and golden eyes. They forget that she has a whole story before she ever found them, and that it’s not all pretty and kind.

(No place for monsters, when Carlisle went and changed four innocent people without consent? When suicide is a sin and so is murder? That she loves them fiercely but to be a family is to realize that none of them are perfect and holy and unsullied by their nature? The House of Cullen is so beautifully monstrous, she almost feels sorry for them for not seeing that.)

She had made herself once, exactly how she wanted, and she could do it again. Maybe one day she’ll visit them. See if they forgive her. Esme will. Emmett will. Rose might. But Carlisle and Edward… well, it depends on a lot of things.

Like what lies beneath the church.

It takes her a while to find the little trapdoor down into the earth behind the altar, covered with broken wood and tile, and chained up with a shiny new padlock that crumples like paper in her determined hand. The steps down are mostly rotten - slats of wood wedged roughly into the earth - but she is small and light, and slips down easily, down into a cellar dug too deep and too precisely to be created for anything but a very specific purpose, with the little alcoves in the wall with wells of oil to light the way - only a few of them are still barely burning, throwing bizarre shadows onto the walls.

Everything about this is screaming for her to turn back. Every instinct, every sign is telling her to go home. Except…

She saw him so many times, in hundreds of moments that will weave between them. The laughter and the jokes and the love. She’s seen the way he’ll protect her and change her, and she’ll do the same for him. He’ll look at her with loathing and then tolerance and smug power, and finally, soul-binding love and adoration. The scars she’ll bare will be in the shape of his jaw. She’ll trace his scars with her fingers and her mouth and her tongue; she knows all the little pieces of his story - the boring and the ugly and the difficult, as well as the fragments that are light and precious.

She can’t wait.

But this… this part she’s never seen properly and maybe her brain was protecting her.

The room is small, and little more than dirt and stone held up with rotting beams - buckled and warped, but holding steady for now. It smells rotten down here, almost burnt.

And then there is him.

He lies in the middle, on the stone, his head thrown back like a sacrifice about to be cut open in the name of some ancient god. His eyes are closed and if she didn’t know better, she would think he was asleep. She can see him properly like this, the muscular lines of his torso, the tendons in his neck, the strength in his arms and legs. He looks like a classical Greek sculpture celebrating rapture.

Except… there’s pain. The pain radiates off him like heat; most of the scars are old but the wounds are not. Or maybe they can’t heal. Burns and cuts and bone-deep gouges cover every part of him. There’s a tremor to his body that she doesn’t understand.

And then he hears her shoes on the stone floor and he lunges in one swift move, alert and ready, a snarl echoing in the space.

…Or what should have been one swift move.

Instead, it’s messy and horrific and takes her a moment to process, as she tumbles backwards, losing her footing as he comes at her.

He rips himself from the stone, pieces of skin from his legs sticking to the floor when he moves, leaving open wounds that looks almost like burns on every piece of skin that the stone touched. His legs buckle and shake at the sudden movement, evidence that he has not stood in a very long time.

His eyes are so black they look like empty sockets as he looms over her. Blackness spreads up his hands and arms, spidery black veins stretching from his eyes and throat. For a moment, she thinks she catches a glimpse of the wings; ghost-like and ephemeral in the corner of her eye, tattered void stretched over ancient bone, cracking into place no longer than his arm span.

(He’s magnificent.)

And just as suddenly as he hovers over her, he is ripped backwards and hits the floor with a hiss and the heavy clank of chains pulling tight and recoiling. She gasps at his visible pain, the way he struggles to get up, the demonic visage fading back into the skin of a man. A man in the worst kind of pain she’s ever seen.

“Get out.” His voice is hoarse, the kind that hurts to listen to, and he turns away from her. She can see the chains properly now - ankles, wrists, throat, and thighs, all connecting to a back-brace of iron. The wings have sunk back into his flesh, deep scarring almost outlining them on his back, and she hates to think how painful it was to stretch them imprisoned like this.

How long has he been here, like this? As beautiful as he is, she can see every hour, day, decade he’s spent here in the gaunt shadows of his face, in the decay in his clothing, in the layers upon layers of scars and open wounds. His eyes are hard; there is no hope or trust in them at all.

She always knew it would be difficult, but she never counted on what seeing him in this state would be like. How much it would ache to see this bitter shadow of a man, and the suffering he has lived through.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she says, sitting up. Her bag has survived the fall, but she prepared for it. Nothing in the bag is breakable, for good reason. He’s liable to get angrier.

“Oh?” He looks at her. “You long for death so badly?” His voice is mocking, but she can hear the strain, the rasp of his agony. He shifts to see her better, and she can almost see ghost of his future self.

“Only of a certain kind,” she murmurs to try and lighten the mood, but it falls flat - he’s giving her the kind of look Edward reserved for fawning classmates, so she feels adequately stupid and regrets being so flippant and crude. “You’re hurt. I want to help you.”

He is so badly hurt. The fresh burns smell like alcohol, raw and weeping blood. It’s oddly matte with no shine, but demon blood isn’t like human blood. There’s also a mottled black mark on his torso that she hopes is some terrible bruise and not broken bone just beneath the skin.

“Go away.” His voice is hard, no trace of the pain or misery he’s experiencing. There is a power and a rage there that makes her skin crawl and every instinct is telling her to run. He glares at her, and his eyes… she’s seen them red and gold and black, but right now they are demonic - a black sclera and pupil with churning red iris. But there is no shine to them, just a void. They scream of danger and she understands a little better why Carlisle warned her so grimly away from him.

“No.” She rummages in her bag. Aro had allowed her to use the library for a whole summer, to learn about demon physiology and healing. He’d been amused by her request - and by the discovery she’d left Carlisle’s family in pursuit of this demon. She knows that he’s already plotting, that nothing he offers is without strings attached, but she’ll worry about that later. She has the knowledge, and that is what is most important. “Let me help you.”

“Why do you want to help me? What do you want?” He’s holding himself oddly, and she realizes he’s trying not to touch the stone again, only the soles of his feet.

“To help you. And to talk.” She checks the bottles have not split in her bag; she’d used old water bottles, and a few of them are warping from the chemicals inside of them. But she’d gone over it a dozen times at least, and these will work. He just needs to let her help. “If you don’t like what I have to say, you can leave. Nothing about this is conditional.”

He stares at her. “You don’t want to be remade?” He asked suspiciously. His breathing is labored. “You don’t want all the secrets of the underworld? Wealth? To live again?”

She shakes her head. “I have money and a home of my own. And I have no memory of ever being anything else but what I am right now. The only thing I want is to help you.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. “You say that. But you’ll expect things. Everyone who comes here does. They always want. Humans are greedy creatures and vampires are parasites. You’ll want something, they all do,” he snaps at her and then he smiles, cruel and sharp. “Not many survive being remade. Maria tried to make a dozen of us. I was the only one of my batch that made it through. You have no idea what pain can be.” He scoffs. “Especially if the change was so overwhelming for you that you blocked it out.”

“I know.” She does. She’s read all the written accounts of being remade into a demon right back to some scraps of information from the Roman Empire; the rituals are mostly anecdotal. There was nothing about how it was done; even Aro didn’t have a full copy of how to remake someone. Several of the leads pointed towards the possibility of the remaining instructions being locked up in the Vatican, but even her visions couldn’t decipher if they were genuine or just a rumor.

The fact Maria of Monterrey had found a record and managed to translate it into a ritual that actually worked was awe-inspiring. It made her one of the most dangerous people on the planet - and one of the most powerful.

But the cost of it… how many people had she killed to create Jasper? To create her army? There were the newborn recruits, the blood for the army, and the ones that she tried to remake… that was thousands, more than Alice could comprehend in the scale of human life.

No, she’s not interested. Perhaps she even fears physical pain a little, because she has no memory of human pain, of the change. She’s never bled, never ached, never really suffered like that. And that unknown void of pain, a universal emotion understood by every living thing on the planet… she doesn’t have that.

But maybe…

“I’ve never been hurt,” she says softly. “Not that I remember. I can’t stand the thought of it. That something can feel like that. If I can stop it, I want to. That’s all.”

His gaze burns into her.

“Do you know how many people have come here and promised me things?” He sounds angry but tired. “They’ll free me, they’ll give me money and food and bandage me up. My own army. Girls. Boys. Anything I goddamn want. Do you know what happens to them?”

She sits cross-legged. “Don’t pretend you killed them.”

“You don’t think I could?” The look on his face is dangerous.

“I know you could. I know that if you really wanted to, I would have been dead before I saw you move. I know that you were the most dangerous man in Texas and Mexico for decades before I was even born - before you were remade.

“But I don’t see any bodies. No bloodstains, no bones, nothing left behind. There’s nothing here. Whatever they offered you, you didn’t kill them for it.”

“When I didn’t give them what they want, they left me here,” he says finally. “All of them.”

“Were there many?” That she is curious about. There are a hundred reasons to seek out a demon, but few people are brave enough, and fewer still with the information to find one.

“More than I expected.” He looks at her, his gaze hard and bitter. “What do you want?”

“To help you,” she says obediently. “To get you out of the chains and upstairs; maybe look at some of those wounds? I’m no doctor, but I think I know what to do.”

“And what is your price?” He sounds testy again, and she’s getting annoyed that he won’t listen.

“I’m a cheap date - maybe you can just not kill me? Once you’re free, maybe we could talk for a little while? I have a house we can go to where you can recover safely, if you want to. Otherwise we part as friends.” That would be a disappointing outcome but one she is prepared for. “As long as you’re okay to be alone. I didn’t go to all this trouble to let you go off on your own and keel over in the street dead.”

The surprise on his face is genuine. “I cannot die from this. That’s the whole point of being down here,” he said slowly. “I can only suffer. It would take much, much more to end me.”

He looks sad and tired when he says that, and she wants to hold him. To reassure him that it will get better. It can be wonderful, if he gives her a chance.

“Good. Then if you want to leave me, you can. Just let me help you, and everything will be okay, I promise.”

They stare at each other for a long time, neither of them flinching before he nods his head once.

“I hold a grudge. If you double-cross me…” he begins but she’s already moving closer.

“I understand.” And she does - she’s had visions of him in battle, and the sheer violence and blood-lust had scared her. He is a dangerous creature. But she’d be more likely to rip off her own arm than intentionally harm him.

“You’ll want to take off your shoes.”

It’s an odd request but she takes off her boots and moves forward.

One foot on the stone and she can feel the warmth inside of it; when she looks down, her stockings are already being to singe from the heat.

“Keep moving, or you’ll stick,” he warns and she’s horrified.

The stains on the stone that she had assumed were age were patches of blackened skin still stuck to the stone - his skin - that had torn away from him every single time that he moved.

And then there was the sudden awareness of that fact that his feet have been resting flat against the stone since they’ve started speaking, and she wants to scream, to pry him off the stone herself. She looks at him in naked horror and his lip quirks in quasi-amusement at her expression.

“It’s consecrated ground - no matter how deep it goes, it will always burn the likes of us - me worse than you, but I wouldn’t linger. And no, your shoes wouldn’t protect you.”

Consecrated ground. Fucking consecrated ground. She’d read about it - Europe was lousy with it, but much of it has faded away forgotten and unsanctified in the last couple of centuries as religion has lost its grip on the population. It’s much rarer in the states - most of it is in New England, allegedly. But this perfectly built little prison, complete with consecrated ground… she wants to ask a million questions about the how and the why, but she knows he won’t answer. Not yet.

Right now, she needs to get him off of the floor and out of this evil little room as soon as possible. And the first step is to break the chains embedded in the wall - where a single panel of rock is placed.

She’ll worry about getting the brace off of him once they’re out of here.

He watches her, almost entertained, as she tries to break the links, inspecting the chain carefully for flaws or weaknesses. But even with all her strength, they don’t even bend. They are stubborn and as cursed as this entire basement.

She can feel it - they cannot be broken. She can’t see a way around it.

But when she looks down at him watching her, at his dead-eyed stare of acceptance that he will not be leaving, she feels the weight of what she’s promised him. That he still believes that she will fail and leave him to his fate.

But she was Emmett Cullen’s sister for nearly three years, and Emmett had never met a law, a riddle, a trap or a rule that he couldn’t find a loophole for.

Which is why she brought a screwdriver. An entire toolkit, actually. Whilst vampire strength and speed could fix so many problems, there were some things that required the precision of a toolkit or a lock pick. And maybe the last gift Emmett ever gave her was a mini pink toolkit, and she’d taken that when she’d left.

If there was one thing that all her research had taught her was that magical laws are rigid and precise. The chains will not and can not be broken - that is clear to both of them. She probably isn’t the first that has tried over the years - she could only imagine that he’s tried to free himself hundreds, probably thousands, of times.

So they cannot break them.

She doubts anyone bothered to stop them from being dismantled.

He stares at her incredulously when she pulls the screwdriver from her bag, like maybe she’s some kind of fool. And maybe she is.

But when the first screw hits the stone, she smiles brightly at the look of shock on his face.

“Pick all of them up, I don’t want anyone knowing how we figured this out,” she says bossily, hopping between her feet - her stockings have burnt through, ragged blacked edges having stretched back up above her ankle. She has more clothing at the house, but she’s mildly annoyed at the architect of this building for ruining them. It’s an uncomfortable heat, an odd sensation, but it doesn’t feel too bad as long as she keeps moving.

He fumbles for the screws as each of them fall - they are smaller than it feels like they should be for the size and weight of the chains, but there are so many of them.

And then…

And then the heavy chains drop free of the wall, and he is free. He stares at them in total bewilderment before he looks back up at her.

“Now you’re free,” she says breathlessly, jamming the screwdriver into her bag, and goes to help him stand. He’s unsteady but takes a deep breath as he begins to peel his feet from the stone. It’s horrific as the skin of his soles tears away, blistered and raw but not yet blackened, thankfully. He lets out a groan of pain, one that makes him sound every single day of his age, every single day of his pain.

She doesn’t say anything, she just supports him until they are finally, finally back on the dirt floor.

“Do you want to sit?” She asks quietly and he shakes his head.

“I want to get out,” he says stiffly, and she nods, as they move towards the exit.

It’s an awkward trip back up the stairs; the staircase is narrow, but he needs her guiding support for now, his legs shaking with each step. It takes twice as long as it should, with him pausing every so many steps, as she half-shoves him onto each step. His movements are made awkward from the brace, and she’s already trying to figure out how she’ll pry that thing off him.

And then…

She shoves open the trap door, the wood splintering. And even the feeble moonlight shining down from the broken window feels like someone has just lit up the room - the darkness of the cellar feels inky and oppressive in comparison; the oil-wells dimmer than they were when she descended.

He lets out a shuddering breath as he climbs out, into the fresh air, his eyes darting around the space.

“It’s okay, it’s only us,” she soothes. “You’re safe.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look at her. He’s staring at the boarded-up windows, at the broken glass and rotting pews and forgotten prayer books.

The look on his face reminds her of herself, when she awoke that first time in the woods alone. She knew nothing, had seen nothing in person… just the appreciation and awe of being there, in that place. A moment of simply being alive and in the world.

She remembers it well.

—

They sit inside the old church in silence for a while.

After a while, she begins to pull out first aid from her bag. “Let me,” she says softly, and he doesn’t protest - though he refuses to let her see the wounds under his threadbare clothing. She hasn’t got anything that will stitch his wounds, but she can clean the wounds and bandage them so that they at least stay sanitized and protected. The chemicals she has to use burn her nose, but they seem to work.

“Now, let’s have a look at the brace,” she says soothingly, the screwdriver back in her hand. He eyes her with suspicion but nods once for her to continue.

It’s not as easy as the chains. The brace is too tight and has bitten tight into his skin. The screws come out slowly, ad she doesn’t care that they roll amongst the glass and the debris.

The brace doesn’t fall away. Instead, she has to peal each piece away, skin and scar tissue tearing, leaving raw open wounds in their wake. But he doesn’t make a sound as each piece hits the floor. He just stares up at the piece of sky he can see.

And then it is gone. The wounds will scar, she knows it. But he has movement back, real movement again. His neck, his arms, his wings… Free again, a little bit more.

“Done,” she says softly.

“I don’t even know your name,” he finally says hoarsely, and looks back down at her, as she packs everything back up.

“Alice Cullen,” she says, and thinks about correcting herself. She’s not sure what surname she should be using honestly. She never had one of her own, and nothing else feels like it would fit. She was supposed to be Cullen for a while and then…

Well, she didn’t want to get ahead of herself. Cullen was fine.

He nods in acknowledgement before looking back up at the sliver of sky visible through the broken window.

“I want to leave this place,” he says in a steady voice.

“Of course.”

She wants to offer to burn it down. To tear it down with her bare hands for him. But he won’t understand, not yet.

“Let’s go.”

—

He finds his strength as soon as his feet hit the grass, enough to stand on his own and move away from her support, onto the grass, shivering as his feet sunk in for the first time… in so very long. His turns in a slow circle, just staring up at the clouds and the trees and the world outside he’s hellish, cursed little dirt prison.

He… to call it a scream is not accurate. It is a scream, a roar, a holler, a flood of grief and rage and resentment. It is pain and loss, swearing revenge against the one that did this to him. It is regret and heartbreak and relief.

He is free.

His wings stretch out reflexively, the black staining his hands and face faintly, and the full horror of what the brace has done to him is revealed beyond the splitting and tearing and stretching of the wounds - his wings only open as long as his arm-span; the humeral and secondaries appear to have been crushed from the brace. And the humerus bone appears to have been snapped and reset so that it cannot extend. Half of his wings are limp and crumpled against his spine, a dead and mottled colour.

He has been crippled, possibly forever.

Except…

She’s never really been in the business of giving up. Of looking at something and accepting a bad roll of the dice. She looks at his wings, slack and broken, and she wants to fix them. She’s already considering it, mentally adding splints and bandages, breaking and resetting bone, stitching back together the thin flesh that stretches over them. It would be painful and miserable and it would take a long, long time. And it might not work.

But she already knows that if it didn’t work, she’d take him to Carlisle. She’d take him to Carlisle and use every single trick in her book to convince him to help. She’d promise that Carlisle would never see her again, that she’d never bother any of them, if Carlisle would just fix him. She’d take him to Carlisle, to Aro, to goddamn Maria, if it meant helping.

Anything he needed. Or wanted. She would get it - she had waited for this for so long.

He’s silent now, and he turns to look at her with confusion on his face.

“I looked for you, you know. For almost forty years.” Her voice is soft, and his gaze turns wary. “I get …visions of the future. Of the path that I’m on. And you have always been in them. I saw you with Maria in the south. I saw you when you left with Peter and Charlotte. I never saw what happened, and how you ended up down there but I tried so hard to find you. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

And he stares at her, the black receding from his body, the wings folding back into his body.

“What did you see?” He asks, and he sounds exhausted.

“That I love you. All of you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

He shakes his head, and for a second, he looks so young. “Did you see what happened when she remade me? When she worked out how to make her army more powerful?” He asks. “Did you see what it took to become this? Did you see what I became?”

“I did.”

“Ninety days. Of pain and sacrifice and being ripped into pieces and put back together. To feel the rage boil and burn until your skin,” he murmurs, looking back up at the cloudy night. “Of having this fresh, feral monstrosity of yourself fit itself inside of you and this… clarity of the world and how everything fits together. I’m not the man you want, Alice Cullen.”

“Yes, you are. And it’s … not Cullen anymore, not really. I left them because they wouldn’t let me find you.”

He’s silent, staring at her.

“They said I should think of you as good as dead and that wasn’t… you were still here. I just had to find you. I wasn’t going to mourn you just because you weren’t a vampire anymore. What Maria did to you didn’t change our future, so it didn’t matter to me. But it did to them. So I left them.” She shrugs. “I had enough money saved that I have my own home now - our home if you want it. But it’ll just be us.”

He looks at her hard, like he’s trying to look right through her.

“I was going to destroy you, you realize,” he says finally, his knees buckling but he sinks into the soft ground with dignity, leaning against a tree. “I was going to devour you whole.”

“I mean, with a safe word…” she begins and he lets out a chuckle.

“You aren’t what I was expecting,” he says finally, and she moves closer. She can smell rain on the air. “I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want to be remade like me as payment.”

She’s seen it. In a few decades, he’ll offer it as a form of protection. That the only thing more dangerous than a mated vampire and demon would be two mated demons roaming untethered to a master or mistress.

She’s seen futures where she accepts and they are … sublime. Glorious and terrible and so very, very happy. And she’s seen futures where she’s content with herself, and they are just as happy, just as fantastic and beautiful and fatal. It was never about the venom or the magic that flowed in their veins. It was always them.

“If you don’t want to stay with me, I can help you find Peter and Charlotte,” she offers. “You can recover in my home until then, and we can part as friends.”

He looks back up at the sky as the rain begins to fall, a smile stretching across his face as the water hits his face.

How long has it been since he’s seen and felt rain?

“I think I’d like to stay here for a while,” he says finally, and she can feel how tired and confused he is.

He doesn’t trust her yet - it will be a long time until he does, she knows that. Long after his wounds have healed - she’s certainly got some ideas for his wings, but it’ll be a while before he’s willing to hear her out - he’ll still treat her with suspicion. And that’s okay. She didn’t bet everything on him to be scared off so easily.

Sitting down beside him, she’s careful not to touch him. His eyes are glazed and dreamy as he watches the clouds and the rain, the darkness swallowing them up in the woods behind the church.

“You should rest,” she says softly. “We’ll have to leave before dawn, but we have a few hours.”

“I’m fine,” he corrects, but his words are slower and easier, and she doesn’t say anything else as he slowly drifts off, the cool rain on his face.

Jasper Whitlock. Major of the Confederate Army, turned by Maria of Monterrey back in 1863. The love of her life, who was supposed to show up at a diner in Philadelphia but never made it. The scourge of the South, a mythological monster forged out of pain and horror that most people couldn’t imagine, let alone survive.

And her reason for everything.

He looks… peaceful as he sleeps, the rain clinging to him and not even disturbing him. All the stress and pain and rage slipped off his face. He looked like a different person.

She doesn’t remember what sleep is like, and it’s strange to think of just not being for a while. To just be so vulnerable.

It’s a strange feeling, waiting for so long, and now being here with him. Watching him sleep in the rain, broken up into little pieces but somehow still standing.

The real thing is so much more than she ever anticipated.

Nothing will hurt him again. No one will imprison him again. He is free. She found him. Anything he wants, anything at all.

“I’ve got you, Jasper. I’ve got you."

[alders-simblr]

Rowanwood Estates

Rowanwood Estates - WillowCreek - Sage Estates

I'm calling this the 'lite' version because I'm going to go back and clutter it up and change it but it is by no mean 'light' on CC. This one is going to be a long list of links just as a warning and includes my own mod tweak packages for the two cars on it (further explained below).

As with ALL my builds, you're going to want to have bb.moveobjects ON before placing the lot and I DID use TOOL to place some of the more complicated tweaks.

As with all my builds, it is on my gallery under EA ID: alderwitch but you can also download the tray files on my patreon as well here.

Lot Size: 50 x 50

Furnished Price: 915,012 Unfurnished: 336,018

Bedrooms: 6 Bathrooms: 7

Details and CC Shopping List below the cut.

Packs Used: HSY, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, Wedding Stories, Dream Home, Dine Out, Spa Day, Little Campers, Blooming Rooms, Courtyard Oasis, Bust the Dust, Nifty Knitting, Fitness, Backyard, Romantic Garden, Movie Hangout, Cool Kitchen

CC Used: CM Designs: Isla Pt 2, Jasper, Oakley, Rugs, Thermostat Oni: Traditional Japanese Room, Artist's World Room, Custom Food Pink Baddie: Baby Food, Magical Rug, Play Kitchen Sooky: Abstract Frames, Moroccan Rugs, Hydrangea Jug, Kids Rugs, Pretty Blue Rugs ClutterCat: Shiba Inu Rug Aira: Vanilla Rice Cooker Amoebae: Half Strip Tile, Statement Walls, Hallway Stone ATS4: Bagclutter AWingledLLama: Diaper Pail House of Harlix: Bafroom, Baysic, Harluxe, Jardane Brazen Lotus: ABP Closet, Greenhouse, Chronicles of Dressup, Reupholstered Sofa, Phoenix Fence Black Charly Pancakes: Lighthouse Collection, All CC Merged? Felixandre: Chateau, August 2019, Berlin Pt 3, Colonial Pt 2, Florence Set Pt 1, pt 3, Georgian, Grove Pt 4, Paris pt 1, Pt 3, Shop the Look Season 1 Walls That Make Sense: Dynasty, Fundamentals, Lights, Opulence Harrie: Country, Octave, Livin Rum, Tiny Twavellers Icemunmun: AirFryer, Canning Preserves, Finger Sandwiches, Floral tea, Burger Essentials, Mill, Soup, Soda Joliebean: Padtow LBB: Grannie's Cookbook, Recipe Tin, Recipe Stand LilacCreative: Body Butter, Candle LeafMotif: Magnolia Bathroom, Sunbeam Study, Starlight Crystals Ivy LittleDica: Chic Bathroom, Rise N Grind Cafe, Sleek Slumber, Modern Kitchen, Roman Holiday MadameRia: Back to Basics, Luxe, CoL Wallpaper Addon, Lucky Man Marvell: Lux, Janina, KC, Tiny Footsteps, UPcycle MyCupofCC: Maple Manor Books, Curtain, Macrame Shelf Max20: MasterBedroom Pack, Pouf Soft, Washing and Drying Machines Myshousun: Nora Living, Serene Bathroom, Zephyr Office, Dawn Living, Garden Stories, Freja, Gale Peacemaker: Atwood, Grasscloth, Bayside, Caine, Coulor Me Rugs, Drapery Delights, Elme Jute, Elsie, Futura, Gorgeous Georgian, Glass Tile, Hamptons Hideaway, Hamptons Retreat, Hinterlands, Hudsoon, Kingston, Kitayama, Lennox, MCE, Mina, Myra, Nox, Oasis, Quintin, Serenity, Vara, Marcissus Folly PieriSim: David Apartment, Domaine Du Clos, MCM, Oak House, Teeny Weeny, The Office, Tidying Up, Winter Garden Redhead Sims: Nintendo Switch RVSN: Advant 2020 Holiday Decor, Bidet, Binge Inking, CakeABreak, Cupcake Machine, Don't Be Alarmed Alarm Clock, Flood Saucer Light, Hoarders, Void Critter Gaming, Kids Toybin, Knit Happens, Major Inspo, MOtivational Speaker, Personal Brewer, Cod Fish Tank, One Nightstand Short, Peg to Differ, Procraftination, Shop Chef, Shut the Front Door, Smeglish Dishwasher, Sport Retail Therapy, Throw Shade, ToolTime, Watts Not to Love, SP Built Ins, You know the Drill, Ruggable SimCredible: DishDrainer, Naturalis Pantry SimKoos: Boba Storage, Home Clutter, Infant Bottles, Office Tour, Stroller Deluxe Sixam: Cozy Family Room, Gothic W Lighting, Home Basics, Home Improvement, Luxbath, Mixer, Private Surface, RetroVibes, Small Spaces, Spring Six, Stylish Wood, Teen Room Softerhaze: Bramblefinch Powder Walls Syboulette: Oceane, Advent 2022 Wood Parquet, Attic, Bayhouse, Boho Wedding, Brigette, Bougainvillers, Candy, Clarisse, Coraline, Crossfit, Delphine, Designer Meeting Table, Diane, Dino, Dreamy, Faveo, Fitness, Helios, Karaoke, Laundry, Louane, Millenial, Mozaik, Nothingtowear, Pascaline, Petite Chef, Ratatoulle, Sabine, Serenity, Unicorn Birthday Taurus Design: Cassandra Bathroom, Eliza Bedroom and Closet, Elsa, Jade, Katrina Tuds: 2nd Wave, Cave, Crib, Cross, Emma, NCTR, SHKR, Wave WhoisSage: Shag Rug, Handful of Mats, Simply Striking

Functionality

These mods are not technically in the build but are needed to have mods (syboulette's crossfit and aira's rice cooker specifically) functional.

ZulfAndHakrabr: Let's Get Fits Modpack Ricky: Useable RiceCooker

Vehicles

Technically, the two vehicles used for this build use the the Breeze Motors 2018 Mercedes E-Class Wagon and the 2020 Maserati Quattroporte as their base. I won't link to the download page as its a perma-paywaller and I fundamentally disagree with how Breeze Motors is handling their patreon personally. I will leave it to you to decide if you want their CC and how you acquire it if you choose to do so.

For my personal game, I have edited and stripped down my copies of these two cars and modified them so that they work with Simnation Travel. I have a pinned patreon post that is not paywall locked here explaining that more in depth and include the required files HERE.

If you go that route, and would like to download the cars, you can find them here:

Maserati Quattroporte

Mercedes E-Class

I should note that in addition to lacking the door open /close options of the original as those were stripped down, the textures were redone with simlish for a more maxis match look in game.

Mods for this Build

These are not technically required for the build to function but this build was built using overrides for both Sim Realist's SNB Bills mod as well as Simnation Travel vehicles. You shouldn't get any weird errors if you load the build in without those mods but if there's an exception caught by MCC related to that, it's probably just reconciling that the override the lot was built with is not in place in your game. It should only be a one time alert the first time the game loads in if it happens and should not cause any issue other than MCC making a noise at you about it noticing weirdness.

(The SNB provides the High Speed Internet trait to the lot and I think it will just set that trait to empty if its loaded without but I haven't personally confirmed it, hence the note here. ) Additional Note

I'm pushing this to live today just to make sure it hits my tumblr the same time as I pushed the build to my gallery but I will be going back to add links into the list. There are just a LOT to track down and it might take me a day or two to finish that part.