#true lies and strange mirrors

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Coparenting with Joel, you begin to date someone else a year after you broke up. Joel is upset about it but grows concerned when he learns the man could be a danger to you and the baby.]

Angst

“So how long you been seein’ him?”

PART ONE

It was Joel’s turn to have your three year old daughter Everly for the weekend. It had been nearly a year since you two separated, yet the routine still felt very fresh. A man you met by your job had asked you out on a date, it was strange dating anyone after being with Joel for six years yet, you agreed to it.

Joel and you hadn’t been seeing eye to eye, he always seemed so busy with work there was barely time for the two of you together. Everyday you found yourselves yelling at each other until one day you decided maybe being together wasn’t the best thing for either of you. It wasn’t like either of you to yell but something had pushed you both to a breaking point. You never forgot the look in Joel’s eyes as you packed your bags, Everly screaming in the background.

“Baby please, we can talk about this” he looked at you with desperation, sadness in his deep brown eyes. You sat looking at yourself in the mirror remembering his words when the bell suddenly rang making you jump.

“It’s daddy!” Everly yelled with excitement as she stood by the door.

“Yes, it’s daddy” you smiled at her as you opened the door. Joel instantly became distracted with what you wore as Everly jumped on his leg. The dress you wore bringing back a memory to him, a memory you must’ve forgotten to have worn it so nonchalantly.

“Daddy!” She yelled excitedly distracting him from his thoughts.

“Hi honey,”he picked her up before looking right back at you.

“You look nice” he couldn’t help but wonder what you were so dressed up for.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you turned to get her things.

“I have her stuff almost ready and um-“ your voice became background noise for him as he watched you walk. He couldn’t help but watch how your hips swayed with each step until you turned back to him.

“Did you hear what I said?” You asked noticing the distraction in his eyes.

“Yes mam,” he lied.

“Mommy has a boyfriend!” Everly suddenly spoke with a giggle.

“Everly! That is not true” Joel’s eyes turned to you curiously. Everly must’ve over heard your friend and you talking about Henry earlier.

“He said mommy was pretty” she continued as you stood with slight embarrassment.

“Oh did he?” He noticed your cheeks turned red and as curious as he was tried to distract Everly from putting you more on the spot than you already were.

“Mommy is pretty ain’t she?” He looked at you with a smirk as you took a deep breath finishing packing her bag.

“Mommy looks extra pretty in the dress daddy bought her too-“ you squinted your eyes looking up at him.

“You did not buy me this dress”

“Oh yes I did” he took a step closer as Everly pushed herself back to the floor distracted by a toy close by.

“Don’t cha remember, our second Christmas together?” He whispered making you look down at yourself when it dawned on you.

“Oh…of course” you chuckled awkwardly remembering what happened when you first tried on the dress for him Christmas morning.

Shaking off the thought you zipped up her bag and handed it to Joel.

“Well, here’s everything” you quickly changed the subject. He watched as you crouched down to kiss Everly goodbye, a slight disappointment on his face as he realized you were now wearing that dress for another man.

Walking both of them to the door you were surprised to see Henry’s car pull up. Your heart racing as you knew he would now unexpectedly meet Joel. He wasn’t suppose to, not yet but he must’ve been running early. Joel could see the distraction in your eyes as he picked up Everly. Hearing a car door close behind him he turned to see a man walking up your front porch, you had no choice now but to introduce them.

“Um, Joel this is Henry..Henry this is Joel” with Everly falling asleep on his shoulder he looked directly at Henry who put his hand out. Joel silently took it as you awkwardly watched them shake hands.

“Good to finally meet you, heard a lot about you”

“Can’t say I can say the same” Joel’s response making you rub your forehead as Henry looked over at you.

“Wow, you look amazing in that dress” Henry’s comment making Joel clench his jaw.

“Thank you” you smiled before turning back to Joel.

“Um, I guess call me if anything. I’ll see you two Sunday” you brushed your hand over Everly’s back.

“Hey, nice to meet you again man. I’ll see you around” Joel silently nodded before walking off to his car close by.

He could hear you giggling as you walked back into the house before shutting the door.

Looking back at the door he walked off chewing his inner lip clearly annoyed by the whole thing. Where the hell did this man come from? Eventually he knew you’d date again, yet a part of him wanted to believe there was still hope.

When Joel came home Sarah noticed something was bothering him, she did know him best. She also knew he probably wouldn’t say, not right away at least. Instead she played with Everly and gave him some time, the curiosity in her dying to know.

Sunday felt like it came by pretty fast, for you at least. The weekend was a long slow one with Joel thinking about how you were spending it with another man.

Standing at your door with Everly in his arms he waited for you to open and when you did he tried his best to hide what he was feeling.

“Mommy!” Everly screamed happily practically throwing herself in your arms.

“Everly! How was your weekend with daddy?” You smiled hugging her as Joel stepped inside following you.

“Good! Daddy bought me chocolate”

“Oh did he?” You turned to him with a playful glance.

“Just one” he winked at Everly who attempted to wink back making you both laugh as you put her down. He watched as you crouched down and gave her a toy to play with as the thoughts he had continued to wander in his mind.

“Your boyfriend ain’t comin’ over tonight?” Joel’s question was unexpected, you looked up at him with a raised brow.

“He’s not my boyfriend and even if he was of course not, Everly’s here” you stood up.

“She’s clearly seen him before” he raised his brows wondering how close you two have become.

“Well, that wasn’t planned. I was grocery shopping and we ran into him. Another time we were at the mall and he was walking out. I haven’t officially introduced him to our daughter. It’s too soon. I would never bring a man to the house like that with Everly, you know that” you could tell by the look he had there was more questions but before he could ask Everly ran up to him distracting him with a book. Using that moment you turned to the kitchen and began to prepare for dinner.

With the corner of your eye you watched as Joel eventually entered the kitchen as Everly stood in front of the tv. Silently he leaned on the door way trying to find the right words to say but before he did you couldn’t hold your own thoughts to yourself any longer.

“What kind of mother do you think I am Joel?” His brows furrowed.

“Wait a minute-“

“I’ve never bought a man here with her-“

“I never doubted you for a second” he quickly interrupted realizing you didn’t understand why he was asking anything. Quietly you nodded and went back to cupboard to pull out a bowl. Joel looked around the kitchen as he walked inside, hands in his pocket before he blurt out another question.

“So how long you been seein’ him?”

“I just started seeing him a month ago” you sighed.

“Met him on my way to work one day when I had to check something out with my car-“

“So he’s a mechanic”

“Mhm” you responded with your back to him.

“We just started talking and hit it off. He’s sweet, patient, gives me a lot of his time” Joel’s expression tensed up as he heard you talk about him, he could hear the smile in your voice. A flash back of you yelling at him telling him all you wanted was his time after he had taken three over time jobs knowing it was your week off. A week you two had planned ahead together yet Joel worried about providing would continue to take extra clients. He remembered the day he came home after midnight, you lay on the couch asleep watching a movie he had promised he would watch with you that night. He remembered the guilt he felt that he had forgotten and took the extra hours. He became lost in the bad memory until Everly ran up to him.

“Hey baby, daddy’s gonna get goin’ now” he whispered to her.

“Group hug!” Everly suddenly yelled making you look up. It had been so long since she had called for one. Before you two split it became a thing everyday before either of you left for work you all had to huddle together and hug each other tightly. Everly loved those hugs, yet you weren’t expecting her to suddenly request one.

“Come on, mom!” She yelled excitedly.

“Alright” you smiled as you dusted your hands off on a towel and walked towards them. Joel and Everly pulling you in tightly. Everly giggling she suddenly slid herself down Joel and ran to the living room. Awkwardly you found yourself with Joel’s arm around your waist, holding you close against him. Your hand on his chest with the other sitting on the back of his neck the both of you froze. It had been so long since Joel felt you close like this, his body aching to pull you even closer. His eyes moving quickly between your eyes and your lips. His look distracting you before you suddenly took a step back.

“I um-I should get back to cooking” your hand slid down his chest quickly and turned away back to the counter. Squeezing your eyes shut, your shoulders tense as you fidgeted opening a box of pasta. Joel stood still for a moment noticing how tense you became. Clearing his throat he looked away placing his hands back in his pockets, disappointed that he knew he couldn’t say more…nothing that would change anything. At least he thought.

“I better get goin’, I’ll see you two next week”

“Ok” he could hear the anxiety in your voice.

You watched as he walked to the living room and got down on one knee saying bye to Everly before walking out the front door..

Joel hit the steering wheel in frustration as he drove back home. He hated himself for not making things right when he could’ve, he hated knowing you were now dating someone else.

Once he got home he was greeted by Sarah at the door who excitedly told him Tommy ordered pizza. She sat on the living room couch and continued watching her movie while Tommy played a game of cards with a friend.

“What’s up, Joel?” Sam greeted Joel as he walked past him to the fridge. Grabbing a beer he sat down at the table and gave Sam a nod before taking a sip.

“What’s goin’ on with you?” Tommy looked at his brother with a raised brow.

“Nothin’”

“Everly and y/n alright?”

“Mhm” he responded without looking his way.

Tommy stood silent until Joel finally blurt out what had been bothering him.

“She’s datin’ again”

“Damn, I’m sorry brother.” Tommy shook his head, he know Joel still had feelings for you.

“Why don’t you get back in the dating scene its been a long time already” Sam shrugged as he placed a card down.

“She sounds really into him, he does everything I didn’t” Joel continued ignoring Sam’s suggestion.

“Did you see him?” Tommy asked curiously.

“Yeah, the day that I went to pick up Everly he had just pulled up. Some mechanic- Henry’s his name” Joel took another sip of his beer not noticing Sam’s reaction.

“Henry?”

“You know him?” Joel asked looking up at Sam.

“Uh…never really spoke to him but if he’s the same mechanic on Winchester road then..-“ Sam became hesitant to tell Joel what he knew afraid of his reaction.

“What?” Joel snapped leaning forward.

“He used to date my cousin um, she had to put a restraining order on him cause he started stalking her” Joel’s brows furrowed as put his beer down.

“Stalked her?”

“Turns out guy has a track record of stalking women, he’s a weirdo. Better tell her to watch out with him” Joel looked over at Tommy who shook his head.

“You don’t know if it’s him for sure, Joel. Don’t do nothin’ stupid”

“It has to be him” Sam whispered.

Before anything else could be said Joel quickly stood up and grabbed his keys and jacket. Tommy stood up brushing his hand over his chin wondering what his brother had planned.

“What are we doin’ Joel?”

“I’m just gonna talk to her, I’ll be back” he walked by Sarah on the couch.

“I’ll be right back honey, just gotta take care of somethin’” Sarah nodded and watched her father walk out before looking back at her uncle who seemed concerned…

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[blusthings]

Allow me to yap about deck9, new games and shipping.

I'd like to comment on the whole Pricefield break up in Deck9's LIS DE game. Life is Strange is the game that indirectly contributed to me coming out. I cannot tell you how huge and dramatic of an impact this game had on me, the first game will forever hold a special place in my heart.

The center of why I was so attached to the game was Pricefield, specifically Chloe. I saw some of my characteristics in her, I was often left behind by my friends, I forgive very easily and I love so fast and so fierce it might scare some people off.

The dedication that chloe and Max had especially towards the end of the game was unique.

Now I know that some critics out there will point out just how fucking toxic Chloe was (being possessive, jealous, pushing Max to do bad things etc). And I should know, I had an ex-friend who was possessive and jealous so I understand where they're coming from. But that just adds more depth to Chloe's character. She's fucked up, she's a mess... And yet...

She does this. She still loves, has the capability to love after all that's happened. Plus also yeah everyone loves the blue haired punk lesbian.

But come on, the last scene where we had to choose Bay or Bae was... phenomenal. I cried so fucking hard after the Bae ending. I cried just as hard when I saw the LIS2 pricefield picture because it gave me closure. I grew attached to this couple (and chloe specifically) because of the qualities I see in me mirrored in her.

So it came as a shock to me when Deck9 said "mm fuck that" and just threw my Bae choice to trash. The duo separates. And honestly? I can live with that. I could respect that choice. This isn't a shipping war (unlike what some in the fandom might insist) this is simply another Joel Death and TLOU2 dilemma.

But to shit on Chloe? To reduce her to THIS

I couldn't believe what I read. It made me so upset that not only do they break up a duo I absolutely admire, but they also villian-ify Chloe in a way that just isn't true to her character.

Some would say "why should your opinion matter?" And to that I'd reply "It should, I am only one in the thousands of voices who belong to players that absolutely cherished LIS for ages." If our voices don't count, why even bother making a game for us to play?

I've seen people refunding. Other chose to buy the game and see how it all pans out. I can respect that. But to those who are actively harassing the studio employees??? Please grow up. Shitty game or not, in the end it's just that: a game. Sure, a game that we adore. But it ain't a cult bro. You can't harass people for just doing their jobs.

My solution? Ignorance is bliss, if you'd like to ship Pricefield fucking GO for it. I will personally reject the Deck9's mess, and keep drawing and enjoying the ship closest to my heart.

[pendarling]

Curly & Dark

Hero lightly brushed their fingers against the tight curls and looked at their reflection.

"Oh, didn't you know? Villain likes looser and longer hair so..."

They were in shambles, and they hated to admit it. They didn't like their enemy, no, only offended that anyone could assume that at all. Especially their friend; why did they say that? Nothing was wrong with their curls, at least nothing they could think of. Who cares if Villain likes lighter skin and eyes?

That had nothing to do with them, and who told their friend what Villain preferred? They could be lying. Villain always lied.

Not to them, of course, or at least Hero hoped so. Villain was very careful with their words when they whispered sweet poems in their ear when they got too close for comfort in their hand-to-hand combats. Villain's eyes didn't lie when they stared longingly back at Hero; their body gave away their feelings. Hero knew it all too well and was confident that Villain couldn't care less about their dumb curls or their skin.

It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. It's a stupid claim, but it still hurts.

Hero's breathing quickened as they frowned deeply at themselves through the mirror with fingers caught up in the strands of hair and oh...

Hero thought, 'What a strange appearance. None of my peers look the way I do.' They huffed and walked slowly out of the bathroom, 'That should be a good thing. I stand out.'

It didn't feel good, however. Their head replayed the scene from earlier again.

Hero stood in front of their friend, and their friend smiled at them when they said it, trying to let them know kindly of the situation. They cared and didn't want Hero's heart to be broken when it would be revealed that Villain was just bullying them afterall.

"They have bad intentions; we all know Villain doesn't like curly hair, so it doesn't make sense... you're suit... yeah, that's probably why they said all that. If you wore something else, it would've been different."

Hero's suit now lay on their bed; they've worn it for years and never thought it played a part in their world. Was it too revealing? Inappropriate? Hero liked it; it was created to accommodate Hero's powers. They didn't think of it as anything else, but assuming it was attracting the wrong kind of attention, Hero was willing to wear something new.

They couldn't stop thinking all night after earlier. The next time they saw Villain, they should start ignoring them. Whatever Villain was up to was too cruel. If they hated someone that looked like them, then they should stop interacting completely.

At least that's what they told themselves to do, but still, Hero found themselves taking up another job that would require them to see Villain again.

They sat waiting on the ledge of their usual meeting spot on the roof of a building far from home. Any second now, they'd hear Villain's voice call their name with a ring in it that made their heart skip.

"There you are."

Hero sat up straighter and turned around. "Hi." Hero shyly spoke. It was less confident than they anticipated. Their hands immediately went to touch their hair again; the messy thing always got in the way, and they had taken the time to flat-iron it that morning before showing up. They couldn't remember the last time they straightened their hair; it's been a while, and they accidentally burned their ear with the hot rod in their haste to get it done as quickly as possible as if the curls were a disease.

"You look different," Villain noted, widely smiling as they set their gaze on them.

They swallowed their nervousness and stood up. "Uhm.. yeah, thought I could use a change."

"Looks good."

Hero wanted to ask if it was true. Still, something forced their tongue down even when silence fell into their conversation, where they'd usually idly chat for a good few more minutes before getting into their usual spar.

Villain's hand reached for their belt and pulled out the hilt of their sword. "May I have this dance?" They stepped closer and aimed at them, waiting for a response.

"Try to keep up this time." Hero's hand glowed a shallow colour, just enough to get them riled up.

They fought bravely as usual, each blow heavier than the last, quicker and matching Villain's attacks.

Their smile persisted throughout the entire duration. Hero dodged Villain's sword and slashed at the air with a sharp flick of their wrist. A thin line of energy burst from their hands, and the Villain deflected it with their sword.

Hero took another step back, catching the blade with their hand and twisting it away from their body, unaware that they'd run out of places to move as they felt their back pressed against a wall.

"So quick to lose," Villain smirked as they panted hard from their chest and out. Hero could feel their body buzzing with excitement; although some doubts still lingered, it was all irrelevant at this moment. "Or did you want me to corner you like this?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Hero breathed heavily, all too happy for their liking. They could feel the heat on their face, hotter than it was supposed to be after hardly fighting.

When Villain stepped closer, Hero felt their smile falter a bit. An unreasonable fear consumed their head as they repressed the feeling of touching their hair again. "Ever wonder," Villain began, "What it would be like outside the mask?" Their head tilted slightly with that same crooked smile they'd grown so used to.

"No..." Hero whispered, "There's nothing interesting."

Villain laughed lightly, "Not even yourself?" They leaned down closer, their fingers tapping at the hilt of their sword while Hero's sweating palms rubbed the rough brick behind them, memorizing every crevice.

"Not even myself." Their eyes flickered downward, then back up again, "And you?"

"I have lots to offer." They casually answered.

Hero rolled their eyes, "Sure you do."

They heard them huff and mock a shocked expression. "You're questioning me?" Villain placed a hand on their chest. "I have what you could only dream of-- what you couldn't comprehend."

"Like what?" Hero pressed.

The criminal shrugged and crossed their arms, "Nice try, but I'm selective about who I choose to tell."

'Selective.' Hero reiterated in their head and licked their lips; the feeling that tormented them the other night returned. Itching up their throat and successfully stopping Hero from pursuing the conversation any further.

"You're awfully quiet," Villain remarked and moved back from them slowly, their eyes analyzing the way Hero stood almost slumped up against the wall. "Usually, you're so much more hot-headed."

"You like hot-headed?" Hero quickly snapped. It came out more disgruntled than they wanted. Hero didn't know what overcame them; what was supposed to be a good sensation had burned into a simmering hatred for this strange relationship they had. Hero took a deep breath, their brows furrowed as they stared at their shoes and tried to stop themselves before it was too late.

"Relax." Villain's voice cut through their head. "I just wanted you to know that you're acting out of character."

Hero didn't even bother this time and felt their hands grasping at the air before they could understand. Each fist went flying at Villain, aiming to hit as hard as possible.

Villain played defence, avoiding each one of their punches with swift movements and slight turns. "What's the matter, Hero? I think you've gotten--"

"Shut up!" Their first, burning a bright array of white and yellow, shoved into the metal frame of a nearby door; the ground cracked beneath them upon impact, and Villain stumbled as they went behind Hero with that same obnoxious laughter.

Villain's brows raised, impressed as they whistled at the scene, "Careful, that could break your hand."

"I said stop talking to me!" Hero went to hit them again, throwing enough of their energy to tear Villain's sword away from their hands when they went to deflect again.

Hero never got Villain's weapon away from them before. It surprised them how much they could do, and the surprise made them nearly trip if Villain hadn't caught them just in time. Their powers faded slowly as Hero's emotions dropped back down again. Something about being held so closely has thrown them out of focus.

"I said be careful didn't I?" They softly uttered. Hero's heartbeat fell back into its strange rhythm as usual, a different kind of beat that played a romantic song in their head and repeated itself for weeks. It was then that they grew keenly aware where Villain's hand were placed, so neatly on each side of their waist and so gentle with them. Hero's eyes blinked with confusion until they buried their head into Villain's chest.

"Sorry." They muffled the apology, still holding tears back.

"It's okay." Villain's hands grasped at their suit, slightly tugging at its edges.

They shook their head, "No, it's not." Their lips trembled, and a few drops of tears escaped them as their mind muddled in the confusion of being torn between truth and agonizing desperation. They couldn't stop themselves from saying what they hoped they could hide, "Do you like curly?" Hero heard themselves whisper, wishing they had more control over what they said when Villain didn't respond right away.

Villain's fingers paused. "What? Your hair?"

Hero could only nod, too afraid that the next time they spoke, they would start sobbing uncontrollably.

"I like curly." They murmured. "I like curly... and I like dark." Villain moved one hand to their back, rotating up and down. "Is that what's bothering you?"

Hero sniffled, feeling silly more than ever. "It isn't just teasing then." They said, more to themselves than to their enemy. They smiled under them, their knuckles still stung from the last hit, but that was behind Hero now.

They briefly stood in silence until Villain questioned them again. "Who told you I didn't like it?"

Hero cleared their throat. "A friend."

"Friend?" They stretched the word, sounding more startled as Villain worked through a list of names they'd seen Hero with before. "Which one?"

"The one with blond hair." They answered slowly.

"Hero." They called.

They lifted their head, eyes still foggy. "Yeah?"

"Do me a favour," Villain's thumb came to wipe their tear, "and don't listen to them."

~~~

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[thewertsearch]

Let's pull back from this ever narrowing dark pocket. All this uncertainty is wearing thinner than the only pair of pants in an immortal's wardrobe. I've never much enjoyed navigating the vortices of alternative possibility.

Son of a bitch. Scratch was fucking trolling us, wasn't he?

We must have split off from the Alpha Timeline a while ago - probably before Vriska had even left the Veil. The moment she reached Jack, the entire timeline was unsalvageable. I should have known it was doomed.

The path which alone has my absolute mastery is the alpha timeline, a continuum I define as that which boasts exclusive rights both to my birth and to my death, two circumstantially simultaneous events.

Wait, Scratch can only die in the Alpha Timeline? So he can never die in any other timeline, no matter what?

That's a little strange. Is the Green Sun indestructible in doomed timelines, then? Surely there should be at least some offshoots where someone offs him by dumb luck. He claims there are multiple ways to kill him, but that's completely irreconcilable with the statement that there's only one scenario where he dies. They can't both be true.

You hear that, you orb-headed motherfucker? You lied!

I fucking got you!

Also, I think I know how Scratch's birth and death are circumstantially linked. Snowman orchestrated his birth - and, mirroring this, his last act as a living man will be to orchestrate her death.

Any divergence from this path to my knowing will taper into blackness like rotting roots. But if I was a Seer, such offshoots would be fully within my domain. And if I was a Seer of Mind in particular, synaptic causality would be my specialty.

Right, so all Seers can perceive doomed timelines to some extent, but Mind-aligned Seers are apparently designed to do so.

Terezi - the Alpha Terezi - has seen this offshoot. She knows exactly what will happen if Vriska gets away, and she can't pretend this situation is salvageable anymore.

A Seer would support her allies in battle not with her weapons, but her vision. She would sift through dross of her comrades' poor tactical inclinations and examine the grim consequences. A Seer would not charge into the fray headlong but direct it as a conductor with a baton. She would have the sight to eschew the obvious gambits, and find the path to victory disguised cleverly as setback, or even imminent defeat.

The Seer is a tactician's class, specializing in strategy and problem-solving. It's a class for those who are adept at analyzing and consolidating information, as well as understanding the consequences of a given approach.

Presumably, each Seer's style of problem-solving is influenced by their Aspect. I'm not sure how to characterize Rose's approach, but Terezi's is obvious - she specializes in the consequences of decisions.

And she would know victory doesn't matter in a reality where all else is doomed to fail.

...including her own.

[vroom--vrooming]

Armando Aretas x UndercoverCop!Reader

Everything is a cruel twist of fate

Every moment you spent with Armando Aretas felt like a cruel twist of fate. He loved you deeply, and you loved him too, but your mission overshadowed everything. Embedded in his world to dismantle his cartel from within, you kept your secret close, even as your heart began to fracture under the weight of your deception.

The night you returned to find Armando waiting, tension hung heavy in the air. The usual warmth in his eyes was replaced with an icy, piercing gaze. Spread across the table were photos, documents, and files — damning evidence of your true identity as an undercover cop.

"Why?" he demanded, his voice a harsh whisper that cut through the silence. "Why did you use me? Did you ever really love me, or was it all just part of your mission?"

His words sliced through you, leaving a deep, aching wound. He held a gun, his hand steady, though his eyes betrayed the storm raging within. You tried to keep your composure, but the sight of him, hurt and betrayed, was too much to bear.

"It was all part of the mission," you lied, your voice barely steady. "I never loved you."

Armando's eyes bore into yours, searching for the truth. His voice broke, filled with a pain that mirrored your own. "I don't believe you," he said, a tremor in his voice. "But go. Leave. If I ever see you again, I will kill you."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you turned and walked out, the door closing behind you with a finality that crushed your soul. You left the mission, and your job as a cop, carrying a secret that would change your life forever. You were pregnant with Armando's child.

Four years later, your name appeared on Armando's hit list. He had convinced himself that you meant nothing to him, but as he set up his sniper rifle, ready to eliminate you, he saw something that stopped him cold. Through the lens, he saw you at the park with a little boy. Your son.

The resemblance was undeniable. The boy had Armando's eyes, his hair, his smile. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He couldn't kill you, and he couldn't meet his son without putting you both in danger.

From his vantage point, he watched as you played with your son, a look of pure joy on your face. He had never seen you so happy, and it broke his heart all over again. You had given up everything for him and his son, and now he had to do the same.

The sun cast a warm, golden glow over the park, highlighting every precious moment between you and your child. Armando packed up his rifle, his hands trembling, and left, knowing that he could never see you or his son again, but vowing to protect you both from afar.

As you played with your son, unaware of the danger that had been so close, you felt a strange sense of peace. You had made your choices and lived with the consequences, but the love you had for Armando would always be a part of you.

Armando walked away, each step heavier than the last, carrying the weight of his sacrifice. He would always cherish the memory of you and the son he could never know, but would forever love. In the quiet moments, he promised himself he would watch over you, ensuring your safety from the shadows, a silent guardian burdened by love, loss and heartbreak.

[brettanomycroft]

Signals from Somewhere Else

After episode 22 of Protocol, there’s one thing (okay, maybe two things) that everyone is going to be talking about. But I don’t want to talk about that thing (yet. Okay, I lied, it might come up). Instead, I want to dive into some of the implications of this week’s case and how they might relate FR3-D1 [Error], and even Isaac Newton.

Spoilers for TMAGP episodes 21 and 22 below the cut. CW: we’re gonna talk about the brain stuff; probably overuse of the words “fleshy” and “wet” by I blame AJN for that.

Our case in this episode, graciously recounted by Peepaw Augustus, focuses on real-life German psychiatrist and neurologist Hans Berger, whose work led to the invention of the EEG and furthered our understanding of how brainwaves work. The experiment described in the case mirrors actual experiments that Berger completed while working at the University of Jena, including experimentation on a subject with a deformity that allowed easy access to the brain and the placement of silver wires under the scalp to measure electrical activity. Even Berger’s disappointing initial results seem to be in line with history.

Like in real life, the cosmic horrors of this case begin when Berger takes a little depression nap.

The description of “an ocean, deep and unforgiving… full of dark secrets” creates a striking image to be sure, but what’s more interesting to me here is what he recalls next: the “radio signals, invisible and unknowable.” Berger laments that it’s a “shame these two things would never meet,” and then proceeds to enable such a thing to happen, whether he realizes it or not.

He wakes up and is immediately “inspired” to alter the setup he is using to record Herr Schmidt’s brain activity. While Berger is unable to explain how he came up with the idea (we could tell him: it was The Horrors, bud), he transforms his recording device (an early version of an EEG) into a two-way wireless telegraph, using poor Herr Schmidt’s brain as the receiver for the very radio waves that, perhaps, were never meant to make contact with the world below. Berger sent a politely phrased request into the void, and the void screamed back.

Who or what was on the other side can only be guessed at. Was it John/Martin/Jonah, individually or Frankensteined into some horrid chimerical conscience (please read this great post and have your heart broken like me)? Was it The Fears of the Archives-verse, recombined and tossed about like naughty pears in a pear wiggler? Or was it something or someone else entirely? I’m leaning towards JMJ, in parts or as a whole, specifically because I suspect that Hans Berger’s strange (and wetly explosive, thanks Alexander J. Newell) discovery provides a clue to how [Error] and possibly FR3-D1 operate.

Let’s start with [Error]. Here’s what we know about them so far:

They were locked up in tunnels or a basement space under the Archivist’s office at the Manchester Magnus Institute

Something about them causes people, dead and alive, to recount their fears or horrible things that have happened to them (I am not using the word compel here, even though it is used in the transcript for episode 21, and that is on purpose)

They seem very invested in getting the entire story out (this is, admittedly, speculation, as it’s unclear as to whether “THERE IS MORE” is in reference to more victims or more of Gwen’s story)

They have some really weird dogs

I’ve seen a lot of folks speculate that [Error] is or was the Head Archivist in the Protocol universe, and I’ve also seen a lot of folks speculate that [Error] is or was John (and therefore also The Archivist). I think either of these could be true, but more than anything, I think [Error] is a high-powered antenna with the ability to turn the people around them into speakers. Or maybe Speakers? I do love a good capitalization.

What if the “esteemed brethren” of The Magnus Institute were all too aware of the unusual results of Berger’s experimentation, and hoped to tap into the unusual consciousness(es) floating around in the radio waves and ether of the universe by creating their own version? Perhaps they thought they could create a direct conduit (think almost like a psychic medium) through a person, someone who might be able to communicate with whatever is out there and be able to relay its/their esoteric knowledge to help further the Institute’s goals of “Universal Transmutation.” We know already that the Institute was interested in doppelgangers and perhaps alternate universes and that they had a lot of irons in the fire (the Millenium Dome, the gifted child programme, Welling’s Mutare Materia research program, the various outreach centres), so it would hardly be surprising if they were also experimenting in communicating with “the beyond” to try and gain more knowledge.

And maybe it worked. Maybe they were able to create or transmute someone into an antenna, capable of receiving these strange signals, except these mixed signals were too powerful and ultimately took over. Perhaps [Error] is the natural consequence of who or whatever was speaking to Berger finally getting “OUT.” And if who or whatever was speaking to Berger happened to include the fractured consciousness of a hungry Archivist, well then, we have an interesting case for [Error]. [Error], whether or not they were an/The Archivist in this universe, could now be directed by the desires of The Archivist, channeling The Archivist’s thoughts and abilities but with a power greater than that we ever saw in John (or, perhaps, the same power but completely unrestrained by his remaining humanity). Or [Error] could be channeling The Fears themselves, bringing parts of them through not unlike they were brought through in The Magnus Archives.

Either way, I doubt that creating a connection between whatever was out there and the physical world led to the results the Institute was hoping for.

[Error] is receiving the signal to feed, but the signal coming through is so loud and so powerful that instead of politely asking to snack on some horror stories, coming into contact with them instead allows them to pick up on a person’s horrible experience and forces them to broadcast it to the world. It’s possible that, upon creating [Error] or losing control of [Error], those at The Magnus Institute locked them up and cut them off from the dangerous signal they were receiving… Sam accidentally poking a big hole in the floor (and the alchemical signals inscribed in it) could have reestablished the connection between [Error] and the force guiding them.

Now let’s talk about FR3-D1. We know that FR3-D1so far is that it

Is a “bespoke” internet software developed sometime in the mid-90s, apparently designed to search the internet for spooky stuff

Has German source code

Crashes, constantly, much to Colin’s dismay (? Or maybe he’s helping those crashes along to stop it from listening in… but that’s a theory for another time)

Has, within the last year or so of Sam joining the O.I.A.R., started running a text-to-speech program that reads certain cases out in one of three voices, two of which are familiar to anyone who has listened to The Magnus Archives

Occasionally has some unusual .JMJ errors

Seems to be “targeting” Sam with specific cases related to The Magnus Institute

Is believed to be “listening in” by Colin, Alice, and Sam (which is supported by what we know as the audience)

Has been working “better” since Colin has been on mandatory mental health leave

May have some connection to the Stasi, the secret police force of Communist East Germany before the fall of the USSR

Is assumed (by us as the audience) to have some kind of sentience

There are some other items (notably the spreadsheets found in the ARG that appear to be from or connected to FR3-D1and the emails Sam and Gwen have received) that could be connected to FR3-D1 but have not yet been confirmed. Yet aspects of FR3-D1 do seem to share some commonality with [Error], namely a level of sentience and the ability to locate the stories of people who have had horrifying supernatural encounters.

My speculation here is that FR3-D1 and [Error] were both constructed using the same premise or with the same goal in mind: to receive and channel the signals of entities or consciousnesses existing in or coming from “Somewhere Else”: FR3-D1 through a supernaturally or alchemically conceived software program, and [Error] through a supernaturally or alchemically conceived transmutation on a living human.

If this proves to be the case, then the results seem… distinct, albeit with the potential to be equally dangerous. FR3-D1 is more “controllable” and could potentially be better able to separate out the signals being received, manifesting as “Augustus,” “Chester,” and “Norris.” Now these “three” could still be part of homunculus-esque JohnMartinJonah consciousness, but perhaps the computer program is a little more stable and delineated than the fleshy wet mess of the human brain, and therefore what remains of each individual consciousness is able to act more distinctly and independently. In contrast, [Error] (and their fleshy wet mess of human brain) is receiving the signals all mixed and jumbled together, with no failsafes to keep them from “overloading” or being entirely taken over by The Horrors or JMJ or The JMJ Horrors. Given their spectral descriptions, it’s possible that fleshy human brain and body couldn’t take it anymore and, pun intended, gave up the ghost.  

[Error] could be, in some ways, a bodiless, mindless soul acting on a confused mess of instinct and hunger; FR3-D1 is then, perhaps, the elevated mind, in (more) control but disconnected from a body and perhaps from a soul. Given the heavy influence of alchemy in The Magnus Protocol and the importance in alchemy of the number three, the Tria Prima, and the balance of mind, body, and soul, there may be a third entity we have yet to meet who, like FR3-D1 and [Error], are tuned into these signals from beyond and is eager to reunite with the rest… or perhaps FR3-D1 and [Error] are looking for a body of their own to inhabit and find balance (Sam, anyone?).

I feel like I myself am beginning to mix the signals I started with, but before I attempt to wrap this up, I do briefly want to throw one more piece of spaghetti on the wall, because I think it’ll wind up being something: the mention, specifically, of the silver wire the Berger used in his experiment.

It was Dr. Caton who recommended that Berger use the silver wire, as silver is known for being an effective conductor of electricity. Silver also holds importance as one of the seven metals of alchemy and as a possible base metal in the creation of a Philosopher’s Stone. Perhaps equally important here is that the Diana’s Tree, also known as the Arbor Philosophorum, is created using a solution including silver (or more accurately, silver nitrate) and mercury (one of the elements in the Tria Prima)… yep, the (sort of) same spooky tree created by Newton in TMAGP 19, where Newton gave his dog an existential crisis and Robert Hooke was like “burn it all down.” The conclusion we could draw here is that silver is used in both TMAGP 19 and TMAGP 22 to connect organic life to the unseeable Knowledge of some other plane… with potentially disastrous effects.

Whether it ends up being the case that FR3-D1 and [Error] are big antennas wirelessly receiving The Horrors or I’m totally off base, it seems pretty clear that Hans Berger “tuned in” to an unusual—and dangerous—signal, and what’s more, enabled that signal to connect with the Protocol world in a way that likely never should have happened.

[snorklingfae]

Shades of Deception- Prologue

Dark!Joel Miller x naive!Fem reader

Synopsis: Amidst the ruins of a broken world, one survivor stands out from the rest - Joel Miller. With his sharp wit and unmatched ability to deceive, Joel has always managed to outmaneuver those around him. But when he meets y/n, an unsuspecting and trusting survivor, Joel sees an opportunity to take his game to the next level. As their relationship progresses, y/n unwittingly becomes entangled in Joel's web of lies and deceit, utterly unaware of the true extent of his cunning and manipulation. Will y/n break free from Joel's grasp before it's too late?

Notes: thinking of instead using the term y/n as it can get tedious to write but use Bambi instead as a nickname Joel uses.

Warnings: none yet more will be added in each chapter

Joel trudged wearily through the overgrown remnants of what was once a thriving city. The air hung heavy with the scent of decay, and the dilapidated buildings echoed his every footstep, reminding him of the world that had crumbled around him.

His senses were on high alert, scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. Survival had become his second nature in this unforgiving landscape.

One day, fate intervened as Joel was patrolling the area, and he saw a movement amidst the rubble of an abandoned storefront.

He slowly approached, weapon at the ready, prepared for any threat. But as he drew closer, he realized it wasn't a runner or clicker. It was a survivor, like himself, but far more vulnerable than he could have imagined.

She looked up at him with wide, trusting eyes, and her face was illuminated by a faint glimmer of hope that still flickered within her.

Despite the grim reality of their world, she radiated an aura of innocence and purity that Joel found both unsettling and strangely captivating.

As Joel observed her, a comparison sprang to mind, one that surprised even him. She reminded him of a character from a storybook, a creature from a world untouched by the darkness that now enveloped them—a fawn, fragile and trusting, with wide eyes that held a spark of curiosity and wonder.

Bambi, he thought to himself, though he doubted she would understand the reference in this harsh new reality.

"Are you bit?" Joel's gruff voice betrayed his concern as he approached cautiously.

"No, I swear," she replied, her voice trembling.

After a few seconds of debating, Joel sighed, "Are you alright?"

She nodded, offering him a tentative smile that tugged at something deep within Joel's hardened heart.

“I'm fine," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just... scared."

Joel crouched beside her, his expression unreadable as he studied her carefully. He could see the fear in her eyes, and the uncertainty mirrored his inner turmoil.

Despite the danger that lurked around every corner, there was something about this girl that drew him in, a flicker of humanity amidst the chaos that consumed their world.

Without a word, Joel extended a hand to her, offering her comfort in a world devoid of kindness.

“Come on," he said gruffly, his tone softened by a hint of warmth that surprised even him. "You'll be safer with me."

And with that simple gesture, Joel's solitary journey took an unexpected turn, leading him down a path he never could have anticipated—a path that would intertwine his fate with hers in ways neither of them could have imagined.

As they set out together into the unknown, they would discover that sometimes, in the darkest of times, it was the tiniest glimmer of hope that could light the way forward.

Shades of deception tags

@orcasoul @paanchusblog

[tw1l1te]

The Final Promise₊˚✩⊹

Chapter 14

Linked Universe x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, some dark themes

₊˚✩⊹

You slept like a baby after your… encounter last night. You were surprised to see Time asleep just a foot away from you, deep in slumber. You almost never saw him sleep, so this was a priceless moment. You noticed that the seemingly permanent crease in his brows had disappeared, meaning he was dreaming or sleeping without a worry. His lips were the tiniest bit parted, somehow soft and pillowy despite the harsh conditions of constantly being on the run.

His bangs were covering part of his face, so you lightly brushed them away, seeing his full face now. The moment didn’t last long, as Time was woken up by your physical touch.

“Mornin’.”

“Hey yourself. Sleep ok?”

“Jus’ fine. Surprised I slept at all.”

You chuckled, his accent was so much thicker when he was just woken up.

“What?”

“Oh nothing, you’re just cute.”

Sitting up, you notice a note on your right, written by Zelda.

Good morning, Y/n!

I’m terribly sorry we didn’t have the time to catch up yesterday, it’s been too long! I dragged Link away yesterday to talk about a particular discovery, not knowing it tied to yours as well. I was hoping you’d like to meet me for breakfast so we can catch each other up on what we found, in hopes of progressing our findings. Link knows where to find me, so he can show you around the castle so you won’t get lost. See you soon!

~Princess Zelda

So she did find something. Interesting.

Folding up the note, you placed it in your back pocket. Wild is hunched over the fireplace, seemingly cooking up some fruit and mushrooms for breakfast.

“You even make the simplest ingredients look and smell good.”

He slightly jumps at that, not hearing you approach. He gives you a small smile.

“You boost my ego way too much.”

“It’s true.”

He shrugs. He pokes the mushrooms around, making sure they get cooked evenly.

“Once you’re done with this, do you mind leading me to the princess? She left me a note saying you could lead me to her.”

“Of course. Let me just plate these really quick and we can go.”

~

“Where’d you go last night?”

Time blinks at his descendant, “What?”

“You weren’t here for a few hours last night. Y/n was gone too for a bit. You two ok?”

Time sighs, not particularly keen on talking about last night’s situation. Twilight, hell each one of them, was good at detecting lies. Hero’s spirit, he thinks.

“I couldn’t sleep, neither could they.”

“You do know my sense of smell and hearing is really good though, right?”

“I’m aware.”

“I know it's none of my business and all… but I care about them too, yeah? Just be careful with them, ancestor.”

“You sound like me, Pup.”

“I learned from my mentor, what can I say?”

They both return to checking on their drying clothing in front of the fireplace, a silence settling upon them.

~

Walking into Zelda’s study, you awe at the hundreds of books and scrolls that lined the shelves. Sheikah tech and parts were strewn about the room in boxes, some on the table as well. Zelda was looking at a map, Sheikah Slate in hand.

“You look busy, Princess.”

“It’s just busy work. I’m trying to map out a path for a possible expedition in the future.”

“Oh? Where to?”

She sets the Slate down, sighing. She points at the castle, circling the territory. “I’m trying to get underneath Hyrule Castle. When the Calamity fell, it unearthed a small opening to the corridors underneath the castle, which strangely enough, weren’t marked on the interior maps of the castle.”

That was strange.

“Do you think…. They may have left it out on purpose? In case they didn’t want the map to fall into the wrong hands? It would make sense.”

“I…. suppose, though, not even my Father or the Hylian Council ever talked about it. It’s strange.”

Zelda seems to snap out of her thoughts, focusing back on you.

“Ah, right! We’re here to corroborate our findings. Link mentioned something about hooded figures and a “Twilight Mirror”? I believe I’ve read about the era of Twilight during my studies, though hardly any in-depth information was written about the mirror. I’m surprised you found a piece.”

“Well, we technically didn’t find it, Riju and her research team did. But, yes, it does seem like the real thing and not a replica. I… don’t have it on me right now, but I did bring the Historia and a direct transfer drawing that I did.”

You hand her the two items, waiting for her response.

“This is… truly incredible! This next to the Sheikah technology are amongst the most life-changing of discoveries! Tell me, Y/n, have you found any other information relevant to the Twilight Mirror? Link mentioned something about the Yiga…” she trailed off realizing she rambled.

You smiled solemnly at her, not particularly keen on recollecting the traumatic events that occured at the hideout or in Malon’s home. 

“Well, you see, I was captured by the Yiga when Link and I visited Chief Riju. It was completely unexpected, as we thought the Clan had calmed a bit since Kohga’s defeat, but it appears we were wrong. They… wanted me for an ulterior motive, for someone else rather, but that’s all I can really remember.”

She nods, letting the words sink in.

“I’m terribly sorry that happened to you, Y/n. Link is more than capable of protecting you, me, or anyone for that matter, so it must have really been something he’d never expect.”

You nod, grateful that the princess didn’t put down Li- Wild any further. Hylia knows he’s been through enough pressure and divine expectation as it was.

“…Link also mentioned something about hooded figures… do you have any information on them? Should I be worried for my kingdom?”

“No, Princess, this seems more… personal, for them at least. It seems they want nothing to do with the kingdom itself or you, but more so with me and the other heroes. I don’t have any idea about who they are and where they come from, but I can assure you me, Link, and the others will put a stop to it, regardless of how long it takes.”

She smiles sadly, looking out the window. It was already past midday, the time you spent with her flying by.

“It’s a shame it always has to come to the hero protecting everyone else. I wish I could help more.”

“You’re already helping by restoring Hyrule and not putting yourself in danger. Trust me, Princess.”

She turns back to you, the light in her eyes returning.

“Goddesses, such formalities! Please, call me Zelda.”

~

You and Zelda spent the rest of the day nose deep in books, textbooks, everything and anything that connected to the past few weeks. Your hands cramped from how many notes you took, giving you not so pleasant reminders of your younger years in grade school, slaving away at an essay that meant nothing to you now.

Zelda closed the book she was currently reading and stood up, “Well! I think that’s enough for today. I truly appreciate the help, Y/n, it really wasn’t expected of you.”

“Of course. After all, it is my quest, so it only seems fit that I put in high effort.”

She smiles, nodding at you.

“Well then, I’ll be heading out to prepare for the night. I most likely won’t see you until tomorrow, but please don’t leave yourself cooped up in here much longer, trust me, it gets to you.”

You nod, waving her off. You sigh, slumping against the chair. How long were you even here? Wind must be bored out of his mind. Shaking your head out of your thoughts, you continue back on your research, taking the book from the top of the stack for you to look through.

Before you could put in a decent dent in your work, the door knocked.

“Come in!”

You thought that it was Wild, surprised to see the Captain walking into the room.

“Still in here? I’m amazed at your skill of concentration. Hylia knows some of the others need it.”

“I’m finishing up, I can’t feel my hand anyways. I just want to finish this last book and then I’ll come join y'all.”

“I’ll stay with you, it’s not like I have anything better to do. I left the others behind anyways to find their away around the castle.”

“That’s mean.”

“They’re fine, they have Wild with them. Plus, I wanted to spend time with you, even for a few moments.”

You hum, satisfied with his answer. You weren’t happy about the fact he left everyone behind, but you did like his company, as awkward as you got.

You continued flipping through the pages, your fingers fumbling with the corners. At a certain point, Wars was sitting next to you, your knee brushing against his, faltering your focus.

“...I’m sorry for what happened back in the desert. I should’ve come sooner.”

You lifted your head, turning to him.

“That wasn’t your fault, Wars. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, besides the Yiga Clan and… whoever our little friends are.”

“But still I-”

“You are all so stubborn. I’m gonna say this once, and one time only: it wasn’t your fault. You had nothing to do with it, Link.”

He stayed silent at your demand, searching your face for any hesitation in your words or flickers of uncertainty. Something took over his psyche and decided to lean in closer, your noses bumping against each other.

“You’re too…fuck-”

You pull him in, impatient with his indecisiveness. He grunted lightly, clearly not expecting the sudden confidence from you. He brings his hand to the base of your head, lightly pulling you in. He’d been waiting and waiting, waiting to show what you meant to him. He promised himself that after the recent incident and the too-close call, he needed to tell you, show you.

He pulled away reluctantly, not wanting to end this sacred moment, but he needed to breathe. You placed your forehead against his, catching up on your breath. He tucked away the couple strands of hair framing your face, looking at your eyes. He could get lost in them.

“H-hah, you’re terrible with feelings, Wars.”

He chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead, “What can I say, it’s the hero’s spirit.”

You roll your eyes, but you both laugh. You could feel the pressure of the past few weeks leaving your body, even just temporarily.

Closing the book, you get up and hold out your hand to him, “I think that’s enough reading for today. You coming with me?”

“Always.”

~

“There is absolutely no way you used to look like that.”

“Speak for yourself! You’re practically showing off your ass in those tiny shorts!”

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know-”

You and Wars enter the gallery hall to find the rest of the group laughing and bickering over their paintings. You avert your eyes from Time, remembering the events that took place in the very same hallway. Luckily, he was preoccupied with looking at the paintings to notice your presence yet.

“Y/n, they’re making fun of me ‘cause I’m shorter than Zelda!!”

You chuckle, running up to Wind to look at his painting. Your lips twitch as you cough in your palm, trying to mask the laugh bubbling up your throat.

“I mean….”

Wind just throws up his hands in defeat, “Ugh!!”

Wild walks up to you, standing on your left. He leans into you a bit, asking “I take the meeting with Zelda went well?”

You nod, “Yeah, we got a lot done. Can’t say I found anything extremely helpful, but maybe some leads we could follow.”

“Oh? Who or where?”

“Hmmm… I think the nearest would be Kakariko Village, possibly Robbie and Purah in Hateno, and Lurelin Village, as it says they have a piece as well.”

“Did any of the texts mention how many pieces there were?”

“No, but if I had to guess based on patterns and the size of the piece we have, I’d say anywhere from three to seven. It’ll be easier to tell once we see the other in Lurelin.”

He nods, deep in thought.

“I’ll mention it to Twi and Time, they might have an idea on how to split up the work or what leads should take priority.”

You nod, thanking him. You weren’t sure how Twilight was taking to the journey to assemble the Twilight Mirror, as he seems… distant. Not necessarily upset, but almost hazy in thought or… memories. 

You hoped you could find some time tonight to talk to him and see his perspective on your current journey, give him space to be vulnerable if need be.

You just hoped your efforts weren’t in vain.

The goddesses above tended to do that.

₊˚✩⊹

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Twenty-Two

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2,055

Themes; isekai, slowburn (eventual smut), canon divergence

Rating; swearing and mature themes

Notes; Hey guys! A little late on the update, but I finally got around to finishing 22! I'd say half of 23 is gonna be Foreseer Zayne and then we're onto Lightseeker Xavier (I know the Zayne chapters have went on for a long while, but I haven't written much for Zayne so...This is for the Zayne Biased <3). I'm sorry I can't rush and have them back to the current timeline just yet, but I'll try to keep it short and sweet.

I'm also working on a few things for Divisa! So I'll probably be up late tonight, unfortunately for me.

prev || next

☆ Masterlist ☆

The moon masks the sun, and only a golden ring remains. A beam of light strikes the Creatio protocore. Light reflects off of it, forming chaos and patterns of disorder, which is brought into the hands of the Foreseer.

Ancient symbols gradually appear as he pieces together a puzzle. Astra’s will has presented itself, and the Foreseer’s indifferent facade reveals a hint of indignation as he too is imprisoned by the prophecy. Astra has spoken.

Those who defy fate are sinners and shall be punished by Him.

When you finally open your eyes, you find yourself lying on the floor of your room. Moonlight cascades onto the empty bed. You only recall being overwhelmed by a strange feeling at dawn…Were you unconscious for the whole day?

You look in the mirror and realize…the marks have already reached your neck. Your clothes will no longer be able to hide them now.

If you take the Creatio protocore…will the Foreseer still be Zayne? And if he isn’t the Foreseer, he’s doomed to be trapped in the Tower forever. Doesn’t that make him a prisoner? You don’t want to hurt Zayne, but…You can’t die like this.

What if you told Zayne the true extent of your illness..?

You enter the library and ice appears in front of you, forming an arc. “Good morning, Jas…Is the Foreseer here?”

The phantasm sways from left to right.

“So he isn’t… You and the Foreseer dislike lies. Would he ever forgive someone who has lied to him?”

Jas sways in an agitated manner.

“Of course..” You say with a sigh, “He won’t forgive me then.”

Jas hears sorrow in your voice, and a platform of ice appears under your feet, lifting you up. More ice appears, shimmering and glittering.

It’s trying to comfort you.

You can’t help the sad smile that ghosts across your lips nor the tears that mist your eyes. “Thank you, Jas.”

You sit on the ice, traveling between the endless rows of shelves. Has Zayne read all of the books here?

“I wonder what the Foreseer does when he’s upset. Then again, he might just scowl regardless of his mood.”

As you mumble to yourself, it suddenly begins to snow. You’re in awe, watching snow descend like flower petals dancing in the wind. A few snowflakes fall onto your hand. They sparkle like crystals and do not melt.

“What are they?” You murmur, running your thumb across the snow in your palm.

“Were you not the one asking about what I do when I’m upset?” You hear a calm voice from below. You sit on the floating platform as Zayne stands at the door, looking up at you. 

“So it is possible. Was the prophecy not to your liking?”

“It matters not. Only a true envoy of the king can deliver it.” You stay silent at that, pursing your lips.

It seems he still hasn’t let that go…

”You are mocking me again. You aren’t upset then.” Zayne lifts a finger and the ice carries you down to him. He looks you in the eye.

“And you? What do you do?”

“I…” You think of the flowers you planted in the past as they sway in the breeze. “I dance.”

“I thought humans only dance when they are happy.” 

“Not all of them. The more upset I am, the more I try to move around.” 

You hear Zayne audibly sigh before he glances at you, then holds out his hand. “May I?”

 “...Are you requesting a dance? Here?” A small laugh of disbelief slips from your lips, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“We will both feel better if we dance under the snow.”

You hesitantly look at Zayne. His expression is reminiscent of a merciless blizzard as per usual.

“Would you prefer we do something else?” 

“We can dance.” The warmth of Zayne’s hand spreads from your fingers to the rest of your body. In the Tower’s library, you waltz. Snowflakes gently flutter about, and you step on the jasmine-shaped ice. 

Everything has led to this precious moment. You gaze into each other’s eyes, your hands touching, your steps synchronized.

“You’ve lived here by yourself since the beginning so…who taught you how to dance? This can’t be your first time.” You question and Zayne looks away for a moment, “Perhaps my body still remembers the motions from the past.”

“...Are you referring to your other lives?” Your tone was softer than usual, almost matching the slight change in tone that the Foreseer also carried.

 “The Foreseer cannot truly die, so your description isn’t right.” Zayne looks at you, but it feels like he’s gazing into a time long gone.

“What is it like to remember things from another era?” This was a question you could get behind.

Especially since you were currently remembering things from a time forgotten. 

“It is no different than being in a never-ending snowstorm.” You watch Zayne, the lonesome air surrounding him. Though you are in the same room, moving to the same rhythm, he is a dreamer whose dream may soon come to an end.

However, you felt the same way. This dream of yours was bound to end soon and you’d find yourself in yet another one soon after.

You squeeze his hand. “If the snowfall is eternal, find someone to dance with you. At the very least, the two of you will be happy.” Zayne’s gaze sweeps across you like a feather brushing across your cheek.

“You don’t seem to be upset anymore.” His voice was barely above a whisper and you cheekily reply, “Our dance would be better with some music.”

Following the rhythm of your steps, you start to hum. Your voice echoes within the library.

“You…always hum this melody when watering the jasmine.” He notes, avoiding your gaze. “So you’ve noticed…”

“Will you sing for me?”

“To the afterglow cries cosmic demise. Our world in deceptive amber paradise.

In these sands of time. My frozen bouquet awaits.

With your gaze so full of wonder, I hold four jasmines asunder. His secrets revealed.

Hark the bard, ‘O legends unfold. This distant tale they sing to you. Unspoken desires, sincere and true.

A jasmine in time’s embrace. A fragrant aria, a moment’s grace.”

○o。.

.。o○

Zayne…couldn’t recall the first time the jasmine appeared. Ever since he took upon the mantle of Foreseer, the Tower of Thorns had always been home to the jasmine that never bloomed.

It is like a riddle waiting to be solved, or maybe it’s a metaphor for his fragmented memories. The jasmine’s existence is an unremovable thorn— a reminder of his past, or his failure to remember who he is.

Zayne dreams the same dream. It is one he has dreamt of many, many times. He kisses the jasmine bud, and then his entire being sinks into darkness.

“Zayne. Zayne.”

Yet he hears her, her voice cutting through the shadows.

Why does her voice sound as if it’s from the jasmine itself and from the distant past?

Zayne waits for the darkness to swallow him once more, yet when he opens his eyes, the jasmine he kissed in his dreams has turned into the face of a girl. 

A girl he knows all too well.

○o。.

.。o○

“Zayne…Zayne?”

You frantically knock on Zayne’s door, time passing by ever so slowly before he finally opens it. He appears to have just woken up, his eyes hazy with sleep.

“I thought you were normally awake at this hour?” You question, one hand on your hip.

Though, Zayne doesn’t respond. Instead, he only looks at you…as if you were a stranger.

“Ah…Nevermind. Follow me!” Brimming with excitement, you grab his sleeve and you’re surprised he lets himself be dragged out of his bedchamber.

You’re trying to keep your pace slow since Zayne had just woken up, but you were too excited. You bring him to the top of the Tower.

In the joyous glow of the sun, the jasmine’s trembling petals unfurl one after another.

“Zayne, look! The jasmine has bloomed!” You quickly turn to face him, wanting to see his expression﹘curious about his reaction. His eyes hold a burning spark as he looks at you.

“I…What?” You let out a nervous laugh as you rub the back of your neck. “Haven’t you been looking forward to this?”

However, Zayne is still silent. He lowers his gaze, suppressing the light in his eyes. It seems he’s looking at the jasmine and…you.

“...At last.”

“So? Am I not a skilled gardener?” 

“You were late.”

“Huh?” You shake your head with a small smile on your lips. “When not a single blade of grass grows here but a strange jasmine, you don’t need a gardener.”

“Hence why it only bloomed in your presence.” 

Zayne was…being strangely nice today. He also appeared to be much happier than before. You wonder what he dreamt about that would make him feel less cold than before.

“...Don’t shower me with praise. Now you’re making it sound like this was bound to happen.” You clear your throat and step closer to the jasmine, fingertips brushing against the soft, fragile petals.

Deep in thought, Zayne continued to stare at you. “Have…I offended you again?” You tilt your head to the side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His gaze shifts to your hand still holding his sleeve.

Huh…You must’ve forgotten to let go.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I was too excited.” As you let go, Zayne grabs your hand.

“This is not a mere coincidence.”

“...What?” You’re not exactly sure what to make of Zayne’s words. You gaze drifting down to your hand encased in Zayne’s much larger one.

“You are not the first to step foot in the Tower of Thorns. No one has been able to make the jasmine bloom. Only you have succeeded.”

Something…about his voice makes your heart beat more quickly. An unfamiliar emotion spreads through your chest.

“What is it? You’re not acting like your usual self…” He’s acting slightly like Doctor Zayne– your Zayne.

“You’re right.” Zayne hesitates to continue, an indescribable emotion flooding his eyes.

“Allow me to take you to another place.”

“To where? You said I could leave once the jasmine blooms, did you not?”

Ouch, it feels a bit rude to bring up leaving right as an unemotional man starts acting emotional but…Sure, let’s go with that.

“Do you want to leave now?”

No.

“I…”

Do you?

Do you want to steal the Creatio Protocore, make Zayne lose his power, and leave him imprisoned in the Tower forevermore?

No…You don’t want him to be “perpetually frozen” anymore. But…you’ll die, won’t you? Without the Creatio Protocore…

☆ミ

You never expected Zayne to take you to the field of jasmines in Philos: Floral Inquiry. Under the warm sunlight, you walk amongst the seemingly never-ending sea of flowers.

“Zayne?” You question as you walk side by side and he turns to face you. The expression on his face is familiar yet unfamiliar. It’s unfamiliar because of how different the Foreseer and you are— the distance between you a chasm.

But…The current him reminds you of that wraith and of your Zayne.

You don’t understand…Is the person in front of you real or an illusion?

“Why did you bring me here, Zayne?” You were at a loss. You weren’t sure how this dream was going to end, feeling like it’s been going on for forever at this point.

You really thought it would be wrapped up by now…but surely all of the angst and sadness is done, right?

Zayne’s eyes shimmer like a lake on a midsummer’s day. “I wish to confirm something.”

His words give you little to interpret so, instead, you repeat to him, “...What is there to confirm?”

He suddenly cups your cheek, seemingly losing himself in your eyes. His gaze shines bright. Your heart begins racing, violently thundering in your chest.

What…is he doing?

“That…I won’t lose you again.”

…Huh?

…Again?

Then, a suffocating indigo is all you see. The blinding light consumes your vision while your heart feels like it’s being crushed. Your hand clutches at your chest and you catch a glimpse of Zayne’s panicked expression before you faint.

The Cryoriais.

That damned icy disease. 

I barely did any proofreading so if there's any misspellings or skipped words, I apologize 😭 i just wanted to get this chapter out bc i felt bad for missing Friday. Anyways! I'm leaving to go type up a few more chapters. <3

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog , @shypotatoes013-blog

[ramayantika]

Parvati (mystery academia)

Black. black. Stillness and dissolution. Nothingness is draped in shades of black which now surrounds you. This darkness however is not heavy. It surrounds you like a gentle mist, and there is a shower of large hibiscus flowers donning the darkest shade of red, like blood.

The chiming sound of anklets wake you up at night. A slow whisper rings in your ears. 'Wake up.' You lie wide awake. Your heart thuds in your chest, but the wake up call never recedes. Wake up from which sleep? There is no answer replying you.

Your mother sends you to light the incense sticks. By routine, you circle the sticks twice around the images of the gods. A jasmine flower falls on your hand, and for the first time, the eyes of the goddess bore into yours.

You sleep soundly. The wake up call of a feminine voice repeats once again. Your subconscious steals you into a dream. A room of mirrors welcome you and there is a sound of distant laughter outside the mirror. It is sweet and lively.

You stand in front of the mirrors. Seven mirrors and seven pieces, each a fragmented image until you peer closely. A woman stands behind you, tall and graceful with her hand raised in a blessing. The pearl stud on her nose shines like a mirror and you remember only the large gold nose ring.

'Wake up.' A warm hand caresses your head. Golden glow surrounds her hand. Your eyes are dazzled and you squint hard. Slumber takes you again in a comfortable embrace, but your soul has never been this aware, as if arising from a long slumber.

'Mother,' you call out. A soft hand caresses your head and some velvety fabric touches your cheek. It reminds you of a distant but loved maternal touch, and you feel like a child again. You are safed and loved.

A large serpent coils around your body. Its hood sits on the top of your head like a crown. Atop its hood lies a lotus. The serpent must terrify you, but there is a sweet smell of sandalwood, a shower of kadamba blossoms, and red gulal sprinkled in the air.

A woman dances in abandon. There is grace, there is desire, there is passion and there is liberation in the air around her, and in her being. It is electrifying. The beautiful queen-like woman transforms into a beacon of darkness, and red fades in your vision. A loud howl alerts your ears and loud thudding sounds of a drum beckon you closer. Black. You faint.

Nine women surround you. Each woman wears a different coloured saree. Some look motherly, some look youthful, and some look terrifying -- every shade of life taking its existence in their bodies.

A flash of lightening and your body jerks open. The serpent from your dreams coils around you tighter. A trident manifests beside you. Your hands touch the weapon and electricity fizzles through your body.

It is dark again. In pitch darkness, a lady in red and white, decked in gold and long flowing hair manifests herself in front of you. 'You have woken up then.' The serpent from your dreams has followed your path and hisses in agreement. It understands human language, some strange way of nature to show her power, the power of the divine feminine, Her. The serpent looks at you. There is humanity in its eyes. What a curious play of Prakriti!

The youthful woman who giggles as sweet as sugar, beware, she is wild and untamed. You may desire to claim her for yourself, but she shall not. She is the Mother of the Universe, manifesting in different forms. The little girls with pigtails who sweetly handed over her ladoo too is her, and so is the frail old lady in your neighbourhood. She is everywhere.

Nobody knows how did those vile men die, but justice was served. The wise old woman whispers about the devi serving justice, a feat these strong and burly policemen who claim to be the protectors of the common public, and the 'fair' judiciary had failed to achieve. 'I saw the devi drink their blood. Their severed heads served as her garlands. It is true.' The rest of the crowd roll their eyes at the rambling woman.

The final night. Loud sounds of the drums make your heart beat thud in excitement. Women march ahead, their foreheads adorned with red vermilion. Little children dance their way to the river as vehicles carry the idols of the goddess to the river. There is a huge crowd, each person chanting the name of the goddess. Amidst the humungous crowd, there is a call that makes you turn your head towards the sky. A golden glow forms against the dark clouds of the night, and there she is.

The cosmos manifests in her. Adorned with the stars and galaxies, she stands tall and large in the skies, her large doe-like eyes looking at her children with love and affection. She is jagat janani after all. Her trident manifests in her arms and she solemnly swears to protect her children from every harm. Jai devi! Jai maa durga!

'It isn't a dream. You have reached out to me, just like I. A mother want her children around her. Remember, you and me, we all are one.'

taglist: @jukti-torko-golpo @krishna-priyatama @krsnaradhika @krishakamal @ma-douce-souffrance @prettykittytanjiro @krishna-sangini @thegleamingmoon @kaal-naagin @chaliyaaa @desigurlie @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @ramcharantitties @houseofbreadpakoda @swayamev @rhysaka @aesthetic-aryavartik @ahamasmiyodhah @vishnavishivaa

[whumpshaped]

Nonhuman whumpee that presents, was raised as a human, and fully believes themselves to be one, finding out that they aren’t human in whumper’s care.

Whumper knows already and inflicts enough pain for the nonhuman features to pop out. In this case a demigod with an extra set of glowy arms and markings? Whumper makes sure to massage any new part of whumpee due to the humiliating sensitivity they have, and Whumpee gets depersonalization from the whole ordeal.

tw nonhuman whumpee, nonhuman whumper, depersonalisation, past murder (of parents), captivity, intimate whumper

Whumpee stared at the thing in the mirror, taking in the furrowed brows and the glowing golden eyes full of confusion; it was strangely similar to how they felt. The creature in the mirror was very good at imitating them.

They shuddered when Whumper gently took one of the thing’s extra arms, they shuddered like it was theirs, because they were also very good at imitating the creature. They couldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop feeling it, their awfully non-human body betraying their every memory and concept of self.

What were they?

That was them, wasn’t it? The thing in the mirror? But what was that?

“Slowly coming to terms with it?” Whumper asked lovingly, as though they hadn’t just shattered Whumpee’s entire world. They dragged their fingers down the length of their arm, tracing the markings, and Whumpee’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment against their will. “My sweet angel. My divine little pet. Aren’t you glad I showed you your true self?”

“What am I?” they whispered, still fixated on the mirror. So long as it was just in the mirror, it wasn’t as real as looking down and seeing it in person.

“The child of a long gone god; one that saw it fit to mingle with humans.”

Whumpee let out a whimper as their captor dug their finger into the stiff tissue, thoroughly massaging out the tension. “My parents aren’t gods,” they said softly. “I… I can’t go back to them like this.”

“You can’t.”

“Please… d-do something. Reverse it.”

Whumper smiled. “This is who you are, sweetheart. And that,” they pointed at their own reflection, “is who you belong to.”

Whumpee wanted to argue. They wanted to say well, if they were the child of a god, then surely, they too were an all-powerful being. Powerful enough to reverse this, and powerful enough to fight off a cocky mortal feeding them lies. But as soon as they opened their mouth, they saw it.

It was but a flash. A flash of a halo. A flash of too many eyes to count. A creature too terrifying to behold.

They swallowed, tearing their gaze away from the mirror and turning to face Whumper, relieved to find them in the form they had gotten used to. “What are you?” they asked, and their voice came out shakier than they intended.

“Many cultures, many names… Who keeps track?” They continued working life into Whumpee’s numb limbs like nothing had happened, still smiling.

“You’re a god,” they breathed. “Are you–”

“I am the one who killed them.” They glanced up, eerie smile widening just a fraction. “So I could have you all to myself.”

[cookiesupplier]

Every Rose Has Its Thorns - Part Twenty-Three

pairing: Ricky Olson x ofc x Chris 'Motionless' Cerulli

warnings/tropes: slow burn, soulmates, strangers to enemies to lovers, betrayal, angst, fluff, smut, language, panic attack, stalking, online bullying.

summary: In a world where soulmates inexplicably receive a tattoo that will match that of their soulmate the moment they turn eighteen years old, being famous and covered in very visible tattoos can make finding your true soulmate a questionable fate. For everyone involved.

author’s note: Unbeta'd, readers beware as always lol.

tags: @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @jordynyingling0219 @faceless-mirror @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @wild-child-7747 @witchyweeb34 @black-damask1999 @jilliemiw86 @ilovesamkiszka @lyschko666 @lacktoesandtoddlerants @bngurngheart @collapsedglasshouses @laurpartyprogram

Tag List is Open, please let me know if you would like to be added to it or in general.

Talia woke up to her head hurting like hell, but otherwise, she was toasty warm, and cosy in her bed, which was, strange. She didn’t remember going to bed. She remembered.. She remembered..

Oh, god. She remembered being with Ricky, in the kitchen, talking about their soulmate tattoos.

No, no, no, this was horrible. It happened again, it all happened again, her hand flew through her neck, and now he knew how mental she was.. The fact that he could feel it too just made it worse. Look at what she’d done, because of course, it was on her, it had to be on her, she’d been dealing with this for so long, how could it be anything else? Pushing the blankets from her body, sitting up, she was still dressed, not that that had been a problem, she hadn’t been wearing anything strange anyway, she’d barely gotten out of bed when Rick came over here in the first place. How had this been her day? How?

Climbing out of bed, checking the time, Ava would be home by now, hopefully, maybe, she didn’t know.. Did she want her to be back? As much as she loved her, and wanted to spend time with her, it was also starting to get painful to admit, that it was hard to spend time with her sometimes. Especially with Vinny. Their girl day at the spa had been nice, but to come back and be blindsided like that..

No one had told her about deciding to go public. Sure, it wasn’t her relationship, but Ava used to tell her everything, she used to talk to her about everything.. And the painful realisation was that she wasn’t telling Ava everything either, now was she? She’d not told her about the party, what he’d said to her, how he’d treated her, what they’d done.. She hadn’t told her about how her tattoo was reacting, how she felt about it.. Furthermore, she didn’t think she could tell her at all. Everything going on with Ricky, would just threaten to antagonise her against him, and that would put a strain on her relationship with Vinny, and her whole point for being here was to support her, not tear them apart. Ava wouldn’t understand that Talia honestly thought that yes, Ricky had done some stupid thing, but something else was happening here. Something neither of them could control.

Look at what had happened just this morning, they’d gotten swept up again, and she’d been just as involved. She’d pushed just as much as he had, what did that say about her? No, she couldn’t let Ava blow up her relationship trying to protect her just because she got pissed off at how Ricky was acting. Even if some of the things he’d done, he’d deserve it. They could work this out on their own, they could figure out what was happening with the tattoos. If she was right, she assumed Ricky had told Chris, so maybe they weren’t completely in this alone any more, she wasn’t sure about that, though. He could have lied through his teeth about it.

Making her way to the bathroom, Talia sighed, her hands pressed to the side of the counter, looking into the mirror. Seeing her reflection, looked like a wreck after the morning she had. Ironically, she felt like talking to Ricky, and whatever you’d call what had happened in the kitchen this morning, for all that he’d done over the past weeks, didn’t touch on what she'd done to herself today. Talia felt so stupid spiral like that, and just unable to calm down, not until Chris had gotten there and then between the two of them, she finally managed to calm down and breathe, slowly. After that she didn’t know what happened, she must have drifted off, feeling so safe with the both of them there. It wasn’t that she’d never felt safe around Rick, but she certainly wanted to slap him one more than she felt like she would curl up and drift off to sleep with him there, and yet, that seemed to be exactly what she had done.

Huh.

Now, Chris, she wasn’t surprised. He was so easy to be around, he’d put her at ease from the moment they’d met and struck up their friendship over coffee. She didn’t know how or why he’d come, assuming Ricky had to do with that, but she was thankful that he had.

She was splashing water on her face when she heard a knock on the bathroom door and opened it to come out. Finding Ava standing there, she smiled slightly as she stepped out and closed it behind her.

“Hey Avie.. you okay?”

The worried frown on her face spoke volumes, which was why Talia was asking,

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Sighing, Talia just shook her head with a shrug, figuring Ricky and Chris must have told her something, hopefully not everything.. She didn’t want Ava to know everything about the tattoo issues and all the problems. It was personal and her own.. Or well, Ricky and hers, she guessed at this point.

“I’m fine Ava, I just, had a bad morning, that’s all.”

She didn’t look convinced, not even close. So he told her enough at least.

“That's not the way it seemed when we got home.. Rick tried to call Vinny, he tried to call me for help Talia, he never tries to call me despite Vin giving him my number in case of emergencies.”

Talia sighed, yeah, not that it had helped any, had it.. No, she shouldn’t be bitter, and she wasn’t going to ask what they had been doing that neither of them had picked up their phone, but…

“Not to mention Chris was here too, I mean-”

“I know.. I don’t know exactly how or what happened after a certain point, I just know Chris was there.. I had a bit of a bad spell, and I couldn’t calm down, it happens Ava, you know that, so you pushing right now is not helping.”

The moment the words came out of her mouth, she felt guilty voicing them, snapping at Ava wasn’t going to help either. Still, Ava pushing her for the information she didn’t have right now, was just making her chest feel tight, and if Ava got here and knew she was out.. Asking her what happened, when it had been what had made her freak out? Was that really wise? So could she please step off? Ava knew well how it felt to have people push her for information before she was ready.. She knew.. Talia knew she knew first hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Avie, I.. today has been.. A day. I guess Ricky and Chris went back to Chris’ then?”

Ava nodded slightly,

“Yeah, they’ll be back though.. Um.. Chris helped me get you in bed and comfy, I thought you’d prefer it if it was Chris,”

Ava smiled slightly to her, but Talia could only bring herself to return it a little awkwardly, she wanted to feel more vibrant, she wanted to be more alive and happy for her friend, she just didn’t feel it right now, and she could see it in Ava’s eyes, how upset she was now, probably at Talia snapping at her.

“And then we talked to them both, and invited them over for dinner.. We thought we could all spend some time together, hang out, talk… maybe about what happened?”

Oh.. oh..

Talia tensed.. No, Ava, don’t do this. Don’t do this.

She couldn’t believe the others had agreed to do this, this, this.. Why did this feel like they were going to ambush her over dinner?

“No. No. Just… No.”

If she was doing to sit down and talk with Rick it was going to be on her own terms, and maybe now she knew it was going to be on opposite sides of the table where they couldn’t touch.

Talia moved to walk down the hall towards the guest room, leaving Ava gaping a little,

“Wh-what do you mean, just, no? Talia, hasn’t this been going on long enough, the two of you need to talk! You’ve been arguing with each other, and now you’ve had a breakdown, I’m worried about you!”

Talia just kept walking, she wasn’t going to let Ava guilt trip her, for some reason, she had Ricky in her head, pushing her, pushing her to call him an asshole, pushing her to stand up for herself. Ava had done it so many times before, but this time, this time it was Rick.. she’d never thought she’d have to stand up, to Ava.

“I get that, Ava, but you don’t have the right to try to push the issue just because you think you know what's right for me.”

As she came to the door to the guest room, she turned to face her..

“If you want us all to have dinner together tonight, great.. But don’t you dare presume to think you have the right to decide how my relationship or lack of one with Ricky goes. I have tried to be as respectful as possible of everything between Vinny and you while I’ve been here.. At your insistence might I add, so I ask you do the same… consider this my boundary.. And back off, Ava. I love you, but don’t.”

She was dealing with enough insanity which all started from one dammed place and branched out from there, with a lot of problems and idiot mistakes.. Aka, a mystical tattoo she couldn’t explain, she didn’t need to add Ava to that.

Ava looked like she was almost about to cry, and it was taking everything in Talia not to break down and apologise, to apologise for being harsh, horrible, and strict, but she just couldn’t handle her pushing for more and more information before she was ready… she couldn’t… years and years of her family pushing and pulling, and she couldn’t do this.

Talia’s hands clenched her fingers by her side as she audibly heard her best friend gulp slightly..

“I’m sorry.. I… I’m sorry you’re right..”

A tiny whimper..

“So um.. When Rick and Chris get here, Vin and I will go out for dinner.. Up to you to deal with Chris, I can spend some more time with Chris later, he’s your friend too, maybe, maybe he can help you, deal with Rick, or whatever.”

She smiled, Talia was grateful, she knew Ava had made friends with all the guys from the band during her time with them on the bus during those last weeks of the tour. Chris had been Ava’s friend before he was ever Talia’s. Hell, and for a little bit there, she’d been worried she’d lose her to the bunch of boys entirely. In the kind of intense bonding of the tour, she figured, either a lifelong friendship could form, or they’d kill each other. She was glad it was the former, she’d have hated to destroy her favourite band because they’d killed one of her best friends.

“It wasn’t Rick that made me spiral this morning Ava, I swear, it wasn’t anything he did, so please don’t, don’t be mad at him.”

Oh yes, she heard it, what she’d said, that, dealing with Rick. Looking to Ava who was just looking back towards her sceptically,

“I swear, it was a strange morning, really strange.. But what I was thinking about when I started freaking out.. That..”

She swallowed..

“That wasn’t strange, that I know.”

Sighing. Ava paused..

“Any time you want to talk, honey..”

Nodding slightly, Talia looking down to her hands, twisting her fingers around each other,

“I know Avie, I know.. But I’m just so tired.. And I have a feeling I’m going to have to talk enough tonight with Ricky.. I completely freaked out on him, and I know he has been an asshole but, it was so bad.”

From the look on Ava’s face right then, the way she cringed a little, and didn’t even try and counter her and tell her that it hadn’t looked that bad.. Talia knew she was right, it had been horrible, which meant it had probably been even worse than she had imagined. Well, that was just fantastic. So yes, now she had to explain to Ricky… and Chris, since he’d been dragged into this too. Heaving in a huge breath, the next thing she knew, her best friend had her arms around her, holding her in a warm tight hug.. She needed one, so badly right now.

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[lynxgriffin]

Under blue skies

Within a forest of gold

Lies a thin veneer of lies

Some black, some white, though mostly old.

What rises to the wind,

whether houses or trees

Families so close, love shines ever clean

Ah, or so it would seem

What rises to the wind

Whispers and dreams

One family, north of all else

Their home houses something beyond compense

It's skin is strange

And eyes too red

Wherever they walk

A glance would be shed

In good company

Where worries are shared

One stands tall

Though whispered with glares

"why are they so different ?"

"why so mouch trouble ?"

It's strange for one to think

That gossip would not bubble

They act like it can't hear

Though perhaps they know

They hope in secret

It would better itself, somehow

It hopes, but sees

All of their peers think the same

Oh woe be to the one

Who bares all the blame

It knows it, it sees that.

The soul they bear is so guilty

So red.

"why" they ask

"why couldn't it have been white?"

White as a lamb, no harm, no foul

Red is hate, a predator on a prowl

Pencil to paper

Crayon and crawl

The one they hope to be

The palest soul alive

A vain wish, destined to die.

Years pass and times are rough

One who held them close

Left them to wilt

A darkened rose

Days bring no joy

Sleep is too plentiful

One day a tormentor comes

They grow ever more pitiful

And then

Darker yet darker

The shadows grow

A world of new wonder

Unveils it's row

Now they walk together

The picker and the picked

A world of fantasy

Where dreams come true

Or be they shadows

Whom come to collect their due ?

The one veiled in purple

They find their destiny

A lonelines crushed

By a blue ball of loyalty

But they

Their red soul within

They find a shadow,

A mirror so thin

It's fur is white

(I wish to be them)

It's smile is wide

(I wish to be happy)

Manners are gold

(I wish to be good)

It's eyes shine pink

Theirs glow red

So slight is the difference

What cost...

for it...

to be...

....shed ?

Stranger of feathers

Master of creation

Answer one question :

Of whom do I speak

And of what do they reek ?

Your poem about Kris is very interesting, and I've been mulling over what to do with it! So, I guess I can share it again for other folks to mull over!

[itskindofidontknow]

What dreams know about love?

Chapter 13

Dream of The Endless/Morpheus x Love!OFC

Summary: The Queen of Love has grown used to the absence of her husband, the Dream King. After banning her from the Dreaming, they only saw each other when Morpheus summoned her for social or marital duties. He would go decades without calling for her, enamorated by a variety of mistresses. It broke Love's heart. Not that her husband cared. However, after being imprisioned for a century, The Dream King wants to regain his Queen's love. She doesn't believe him, not after centuries of neglect. The question is: Can dreams repair a broken heart?

Tag: Established relationship, arranged marriage, regency romance, eventual happy ending, angst, morpheus is a dick prepare to hate, love is eoster from west germanic mythology, typos are to be expected

Ready to see Desire being the worst ever? You deserve prision, but you won’t take time

TW: Sexual content (+18), non-consensual but not from who you think

A burning anguish overwhelmed his chest, his entire body was trembling, and his vision was blurry from tears that kept running over his cheeks and had no intention in stopping, breathing was difficult but he couldn’t stop walking through empty halls. Morpheus' feelings were usually constrict but at this moment it felt like they were filling his chest, leaking from his pores. He supported himself on a corner trying to take a deep breath, wiping the tears with the corner of the trembling hands. Raising his head to try to stop the tears, his eyes seeing his reflection at the mirrored ceiling.

It wasn’t him. It was he who was looking, but the person who looked back wasn't him. The long brown hair in loose braids, the watery green eyes with long lashes, cheeks flushed. But the Dream King didn’t process this. He returned his head back, trying to stabilize himself. It didn’t surprise him the fact that he was wearing a tight corset with a flowy floor length light blue dress with tulle spiked in stardust and heels. Not only did it not strange him, he didn’t notice he was Lady love.

His perception was an unusual one, he was an observer and a character. He was devoid of his feelings and his notions and filled with hers. He saw his wife running through his palace’s halls in distress, he felt that distress, he was walking in her shoes, reacting with her reactions. The abundance of feelings was overwhelming as her thoughts, or his thoughts. It was like a radio out of signal that he was still trying to synchronize . He didn’t know how he got to this place, or what happened, but Love’s body and mind knew, and he couldn’t stop. He tried to end the dream, maybe he somehow invaded it, but he couldn’t. Maybe this was her dream or nightmare, he never visited those personally and did not intended to do it now. This was A True Marriage thing. It was like a movie playing live where no one had the control to pause it. It was already in motion and Morpheus would be part of it whether he wanted it or not.

Love stepped into Dream’s room filled with each of his siblings sigils. She entered without permission, barging desperate, holding Desire’s sigil in her trembling hands “I want to see Desire” She said cleaning with the back of her hands her stained mascara

His devious sibling voice responded as they seemed to already know what it was about, not a bit surprise that it was his brother wife calling through an endless only line “ Well come in”

“ How dare you!” Love angrily steps throwing a pack of letters with a red sealing open at Desire, hundreds of hand written love letters flew spreading across the floor. Desire was notably unworried, languidly laying stretched like a cat “Hello dear sister” . That debauchery always made Morpheus furious, and he felt the same feeling emanating from his wife

“ I trusted you like a dear sibling and you deceived me” Love grinded her teeth, holding a cry, Desire unfazed “You wrote these letters! You pretend to be Dream, you lied to me! Now I am, I am-“ Ruined. That was what the dozens of voices that kicked her head. She did not want to say it out loud, because marriage could not be her ruin, she was the protector of marriages, the lady of love. How could something so dear to her, cause such pain?

Desire pushed their lips into a cheshire malevolent grin, adjusting themselves on the couch, so they could face Love closely, resting their face in their arm “ Did he make you his queen yet? Or is he resisting the charms of having the Virgin Goddess herself warming his bed?” Love taken by a fury unlocked by her sibling-in-law, grabbed them by the throat squeezing tight with nails digging in their skin, a bit of herself was surprised by the violence she never had a tendency of displaying. That Tittle. That was one Love was not called in ages. She dismissed it as a ridiculous one, because she was indeed the protector of fertility, virginity and marriage, but she would not stay untouched for the rest of her existence, it was only until find pure love.

Morpheus felt the painful tension on her back muscles keeping a stiff posture, the sting of her nails digging in the flesh of his sibling. The question lingering in the air, pinching her lower stomach as a reminder of Morpheus not resisting her charm. He made her entirely his, he marked her on the inside, but he did not make her a queen. His own memory or it was hers? The weak whimps and panic filled in doe eyes pleading for gentleness, for sympathy.

All these memories made her squeeze her hand tighter in Desire’s neck. Eoster was tearful but devoid of remorse, of any emotion. ”I should kill you” she considered it loudly, her voice determined. Morpheus would never expect his wife to do such a thing, before, he was certain she would not touch a fly, seeing this side of her, darkness filling her eyes, he was not sure anymore. “Be careful now, sister.” Desire started right back at Eoster, their golden eye pupils were not scared, in fact, they kept smiling, contrasting their lack of air due to Love's iron grip in their neck “Family shall not spill blood of family”.

Love loosened her grip, but did not let go of their neck, she bended over the couch, getting near Desire's face “ You will fix this. You will tell my husband that I was tricked as he was, that it was a vile game of yours and yours alone. Speak the truth for once.” She gave them one more squeeze in their neck, before letting it go, turning her back to her sibling in law, her heart beat accelerated it, as she ran her hands through her hair. What would she do if Desire didn’t take their responsibilities?

“And do you think he would believe me? Silly, silly dove”. Desire lifted themselves, clicking their heels on the floor walking in slow circles around Love. A predator ready to catch its prey “I could go to him, recite all those sugary boring letters by heart, and he would not believe you. It would not aid you either, because if you are still contacting me, you are still plotting with me. By the way, did he know that you are using his sigils to come to me? Oh, Dovey, he will not take that lightly, conspiring under his nose. Nada was sent to Hell for less than that. I Wonder what he will do to you. ” Desire tap their finger in the cheek in a fake wonder. Love gulped, trying to keep a straight face, ignoring the tears running through her cheeks, calling desperately for help.

The memories of her first weeks, Morpheus could see how this was early in their marriage through her eyes, how she ran towards his arms every time he arrived at any of his palace’s rooms that she already was, how excited and curious she was about the Dreaming, always spying through the windows, eagerly to talk to any dream or nightmare she bumped into. Love never spoke ill of him, or showed any distaste for the Dreaming. And he would be there in her memories, shoving her away, telling her to shut it, ignoring her occasional glances over books he was reading, even if he could see she seemed interested, avoiding to stay in the same room as her, finding work to do somewhere else. And the thousand sounds of doors being closed at her face.

His own memories started to clash with hers, mixing point of views with her at his chambers door, different nightgowns, a frightened face, and then an emotionless slightly older face. He felt the tightens of her and the tightens of her fingers in the silk sheets, his release dripping out of her turning to the wetness of tears in her pillows, the bliss of his orgasm shifting from the relief of finally breathing cold air outside his room, of finally ending date night. A vertiginous and continuous crash of memories and feelings that kept drowning Dream away from the narration of Desire and Love.

But this dream was not letting him escape so easily. He was pushed right back feeling afraid of the unknown penalty, his wife was feeling. Desire words got to her. The voice of one of her sisters, he dared to guess Lady Honesty although he could not tell Honesty from Melancholy apart even if rumors had it they were vastly different. ‘More treacherous than charming, you ought to be careful with your closeness with Lady- Lord Desire, they had never uttered a single word without some dishonorable intention’. Treacherous kept ressonating in her brain like a tick of a clock. Love ignored that advice, thinking it was jealousy that she was a new favorite of Desire.

“ Oh Dovey, but do not worry your pretty head” In a fake pity Desire pouted at her, hugging Love from behind, sliding their fingers along her curls, she did not push him away. She was startled, helpless. There was nothing to do. Desire was right. Morpheus would not believe her, or their sibling. He already was sure what happened. And Desire words seemed like velvet in her ear, like she could nest in their shoulder, letting her weight against them, that they would take care of her.

She did not need to worry her head “You are Lady of The Four Love, protector of fertility, virgins and marriage. Goddess of Spring” Their words were soothing, Love could not bother to correct all those wrong titles, her head was starting to feel light, eyelids heavy “A beauty that transcends time, able to wage and finish wars, you can whisper at mortals ear and make them a loving father with a family or obsessive compulsive stalker with an religious excuse. Isn’t that you?”

Love dumbly nod along. “He hates me” She wimpered like a child, and Desire shushed her, their soothing voice and touch continued to keep her in almost sedated state.

“Dovey are you telling me that hate is stronger than love? That you are incapable of making my brother love you? You Queen of Love, and my brother who is always moping about having the most tragic love life of the universe, both not able to love each other?” Their velveteen-like tone was cut by a cackle that made Love raise her head and look at Desire, looking more awake “I am not a joke. Is that what this is to you? A joke?!”

Of course she was. Love and Dream would be a laughing anecdote Desire would tell in every social for the next thousand of years. But they would not tell her that. Seeing Love reaction, they forcefully pushed her head back against their chest, lowering their voice again, making it melt inside her ears “Of course not, never. You are Queen of the Dreaming, Lady of Dreams and Nightmares. Princess of Stories.” Love’s vision became hazy and difficult to see, the blood red walls of Desire’s realm, shifted to a dark red, Desire felt her relaxing against them, they gently swooped one of her arms over her head, making it touch their shoulder, entangled even more against them, exposing her neck to them, entirely vulnerable. “You are my Queen.” Love felt their breath against her ear, their words filling her with a delightful calmness.

Morpheus felt a rush of his own feeling angerness, jealousy. He wanted to barge in and drag Love away from his sibling's claws. Desire tried to seduce his wife, not only that, they were clouding her mind with their powers to have her.” Silly, silly ungrateful brother, complaining about having you forever…” Their voice continue to soothe her nerves. Dream felt their hands now dance against her figure with a feather-like touch that made Love wimp in want.”Such a young thing...” Their hands went from her waist up to the side of her breasts, lightly pressuring them, “Supple breasts…”

Morpheus was raging. He would not care if Desire was endless, if they did anything to her while she could not properly consent, he would not respond for his actions.

Why did she never tell him this? The question lingered with him and almost as the memory answered him, he realized what she thought. He would not believe her. And the worst thing is, he can’t say that she was wrong.

Love slightly opened her eyes to see a reflection of her and Desire, she did not remember a mirror in front of them, but a cold shiver went through her body, heart beating fast, and her eyes open wide in desperation as she saw that it was not Desire touching her. Or it was but they were shape shifted as her husband, her breath started to hick, feeling the feather like kisses on her neck.

Love's throat was dry, she felt paralyzed, holding out a moan on the back of her throat, she could see her reflection, their reflection. Her husband's eyes were dark and full of lust, he never looked at her like this, he barely looked at her. “A tight, firm…” his raspy voice, it was not Desire’s velveteen like voice, but Morpheus’s deep voice, which was smothered by her loud cry as his hands, his long pale fingers squeezed her ass, and she arched her back their hands keeping her in place, she could see him smiling smugly in their reflection. Morpheus did not smile like that.

He never smiled at her but she knew he did not smile like that. Desire took that as an invitation and slides his hands to her lower stomach, caressing her until reaching the the inner side of her thigh pressing his fingers “Uncharted legs...'' they took her scent in as she kept mesmerizing looking at their reflection, she couldn’t break away, she didn’t want to or she did, she did not know, some of her would let him do anything he wanted to her, if he just continuing whispering to her, if his hands never leave her body. Why did it matter if it was Desire? It was her husband there touching her. It sounded like him, it smelled like him, it looked like him. Some of her was terrified.

“This dream is over.” Morpheus, the real one, seeing the memory in front of him unravel said, and repeated it loudly as it did not change, and now Desire’s fingers were collecting her skirt, raising it, revealing Love’s lily-white legs and tights, “This dream is over!” But whatever it was, and now he was certain this was not a common dream or nightmare, it did not obey. It did not end. It was something with the True Marriage's bond. Dream was stuck seeing his wife being cared for by another. By his sibling. “And whatever your heart desires you shall have it”

The atmosphere was antagonized by the cold feeling of a tear, running down her eye, and the warmth of her body. Love blinked, and blinked once again trying to stop it. Why was she crying? Her real husband did not love her anyway, wasn’t it an appropriate revenge to get to one of his siblings? Wasn’t he going to keep mistress? Then why shouldn't she? Then why was she crying? Why wasn’t she able to say anything, to stop it?

Morpheus felt her agony, the beat of her heart intensified, her mind was clouded, she was not thinking properly, but her body reacted to it, like it did not want it to happen. “And you can always come to me-“ Desire fingers ran free playing with the lace band of her underwear “To be cared for-“

When it dared to touch her under the piece of fabric, a weak voice dropped from Love’s lips“ Stop”

Desire didn’t stop, pushing their fingers inside her underwear,“Shh relax Lovie, consider it my apologies to the Queen “ That sounded like Desire. She blinked once more, the clouds started to clear from her hazy mind. She now felt how her body was trembling, how it abominated this. She felt like she could throw up.

That made Love squirm away from their touch “Stop it. Stop it! Stop it right now!” As she pushed away her skirt dropped to its place again. The full clarity hit her mind, and Love was furious with the violation. She pushed Desire strongly on their chest, making them trip on their feet, almost falling “How dare you?! You cloud my mind, turn my feelings against myself, you were going to violate me! What were you trying to do? Put a child in me so Dream would be the laughing stock of all the socials? How is his wife a whore that sleeps with all his siblings? To take a toll at me? At a True Marriage? Violating your friend to have a punchline?”

Desire rolled their eyes, throwing themselves back on the couch “Violate you? Dramatic! One week with my brother and you are already losing your sense of humor. I was giving what you desire: A husband that admires and lusts after you. A most appropriate wedding gift, as far as I can see.”

Love looked in complete disbelief and disappointment. That was the same Desire she considered a sibling, a dear friend, who laughed with her, who would spend hours in the Garden together. “We are not friends anymore, Desire.”

The Endless looked at their nails, not giving the trouble to look at Love’s face of disappointment, and responded “Only family”. The brunette shook her head, turning her back to leave their realm for good.

“See you at family dinner, sis!” The sibling shouted after Love walked away. The aggravating loneliness that she felt with each step is what made Dream be kicked out of her head.

—---------

Dream woke up immediately, it was like falling out of bed: A minute of air before the ground. He felt the wetness in his face. Tears. He looked at the other side of the bed. Love was already dressed in yesterday’s clothes, back against the headboard of the bed. He did not know if he actually truly looked at her until now. Timid sunlight crept through the curtains, making her brown curls shine like they were sprinkled in gold, her skin sparkled welcoming the light, her hands delicately resting in her tights, fingers anxiously peeling off the cuticles, making them red. She looked peaceful even though her cuticles said anxious, looking to the door of the room, and sometimes looking at the window. He opened his mouth, but when he was about to, she stared back at him.

He didn’t understand her facial expression, she did not seem mad, but she was not happy either, she merely looked deeply into his eyes. The only thing certain was that she knew what he discovered. “Love, I…”

“We should go. I am heading downstairs to say my farewell to Cain and Goldie. I will wait for you so we can say goodbye to Abel together.” She put her shoes on, and turned her back to him. He didn’t interrupt her. Before reaching for the door, she once again turned, her dress swirling around her waist “You should use your sand for our return, I do not want to waste any more time away from our duties, I believe you agree”

Morpheus nodded, supporting himself on his shoulder. It was as if nothing happened last night. As he was about to call her again, Love closed the door. He wanted to say something, anything. But the right words kept being all the wrong ones. It did not take long for her to be downstairs, as he heard some commotion. Morpheus went to the window, to see that his wife was already partaking in her usual royal posture of polite smiles and conversations. Lucienne was there. And right at her side, Elijah. Both the second hands seemed to be quite in a hurry, but were still waiting.

It did not take long for Morpheus to get dressed in his usual black attire. As he was getting dressed his urgency rose. Parades and breaking fast together were not enough. None of it was. There is no forgiveness for who he was. But he needed to tell her what and how he couldn’t tell, but he needed to say something before it was too late.

Downstairs the apologies and goodbyes were quick. As requested, Dream used his sand to get them back to the palace. But as he turned to have a moment with Love, she already left with Elijah. He lingered a few seconds looking at the spot at his side where she was. “My Lord?” Lucienne asked as he did not seem to listen to a word she was speaking.

Well, Elijah’s plan with Lord Morpheus might not have succeeded. She felt for her king, but still was saving a ‘I told you so’ to Elijah. Yes, the cupid told her about their secret meeting. Cupids love gossip, and Elijah assumed Lucienne was safe.

Morpheus looked back at Lucienne, as he nodded so she could continue, even though his mind was far from talks of tables, rooms, expansions, etiquettes and invites.

He needed to talk to Love.

@secretdreamlandmentality @littlemoistcarrot @lokigirlszendaya @roxytheimmortal

[auideas]

Ermmm sorry if this is weird but do u maybe have any like, ““original”” cyberpunk prompts? I want to write something cyberpunk for an au but I just don’t have any ideas right now no matter how long I brainstorm

Exploring Cyberpunk

Cyberpunk is a very unique genre, which is why so many people are both attracted to it and stumped when attempting to develop plots within an unknown world. Think of Black Mirror created by Charlie Brooker (TV show), Blade Runner written by Philip K. Dick (a movie based on the novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?, a classic Cyberpunk novel), Altered Carbon by Richard K. Morgan (modern Cyberpunk novel), etc. -- each of these were incredibly influential in their own right, but they all also build their worlds gradually while having a single easy-to-explain concept that can spawn an entire universe. To be more specific, each story establishes an issue created by an advanced society ignorantly abusing technology, then allow their characters to explore that problem and try to find a solution in a manner that isn't explicitly black or white for society as a whole, but every shade of grey.

For Black Mirror, each episode anthologically builds upon a high-tech future within the same universe and explores how its characters interact with problems created by new pieces of said technology, both good and bad.

For Blade Runner, the story establishes that androids seem to be malfunctioning, but the bounty hunter charged with hunting them down discovers that the true issue lies in society's understanding of what it means to be human.

For Altered Carbon, the novel explores the issue derived from the obscene length of time it would take for humans to travel between planets stretched across the universe, then dives into more detail regarding how a solution has been abused.

How to Construct a Cyberpunk Concept

What we'd recommend is to start by asking the right questions and looking in the right places. Black Mirror takes its inspiration from a variety of technology, both new and old; Blade Runner explores the idea of AI and androids during the 80's when robotics was on the forefront of innovation; Altered Carbon took note of our increasing ability to travel in an interstellar fashion, then posed a simple question regarding the limits of humanity (specifically, time).

This may sound strange, but the best thing you can do is seek out trends online and scientific journals about new breakthroughs, then ask questions about what may go wrong. For example, an old post we featured here on AUideas that has since been removed from ~2017 because it's in the process of being developed into a script (sorry guys, our bad!) called Dreamscape Co. uses this exact method. When the prompt was made, Admin M was in the process of reading a scientific journal about how neurologists had been able to project a person's thoughts into an image. Although the technology was rudimentary at the time, Admin M posed the question "if dreams can be viewed, what if dreams can be watched in real time with a high quality image? What if they could be immersive? What would that industry look like? Who would pay how much to see a certain person's dreams?" This spun out into a sweeping cyberpunk mini-series, yet came from a simple news article.

Some Cyberpunk Inspiration

When performing a quick search, some amazing ideas seemed to jump out from technology news headlines these past couple weeks alone:

Ferroelectric Liquid Crystal (FLC) Technology Being Used in 3D Displays

Unlike holograms, this technology uses liquid crystals that exhibit spontaneous polarization, meaning their orientation can be influenced by an electric field. They're high-speed, low-power, and have innumerable applications in the future. So, what could go wrong?

How could this technology impact the medical field? Although this may not be possible, consider what could occur if FLCs were injected into human bodies and influenced by electric fields to perform different tasks and functions, such as replacing an organ, attacking cancer cells, etc. How could such a technology be abused or go wrong? How many could die with a simple pulse, like an EMP?

Real-Life Freeze Ray Technology Created for the US Airforce

This technology hasn't been developed to be used as weaponry, but instead to replace large amounts of coolant that must be used on space and air crafts to prevent the machinery from overheating (coolant is heavy and can reduce efficiency yet is absolutely necessary due to the fact that space is a vacuum and therefore does not cool heat like air would on Earth). This "freeze ray" technology utilizes plasma's strange property that seems to break the second law of thermodynamics: it chills down when touching another object before heating up, which experts have proposed is because it vaporizes the ultra-thin layer of carbon and water on an object upon contact, similar to how water evaporates off your skin when stepping out of a pool. The question must be asked: how could such technology be used for not just utilitarian means, but outside of the Airforce's intentions?

Perhaps the technology could be manipulated and over-chill an aircraft, or otherwise damage internal engineering.

Consider its potential applications here on Earth: what could benefit from being chilled with something light-weight and low-power? How could it be integrated into homes? What could be disastrously destroyed with such technology?

Breakthrough in Enhanced Geothermal Systems Technology May Completely Replace Carbon Energy Sources

Google and Fervo have successfully developed geothermal technology that has increased its efficiency and broke records by changing existing rock formations in the Earth's crust. For a natural geothermal energy system to produce electricity, it has to have the right amount of heat, fluid, and rock permeability -- these Goldilocks conditions can be difficult to find 'in the wild'. However, this new Enhanced Geothermal System (EGS) targets the most-easily found aspect (rocks with high heat) then creates the necessary permeability artificially by drilling to the intended rock formation and injecting fluid to create fractures in the rock, achieving the necessary Goldilocks conditions. Sure, this may be carbon-free energy, but what would happen if this were employed on a mass scale?

When energy is prioritized by a high-tech society over food and water, how could citizens gain access to those resources?

What long-term effects could such a system have on the Earth as a whole? Could the ground become unstable? Maybe earthquakes crumble city after city? Maybe the entire Earth's crust loses its integrity and disintegrates, pulling only a lucky few deep underground and forcing them to survive off the left over fluid injected into the Earth's crust and whatever they can find.

Closing Thoughts

As you can see from above, there's a crazy amount of inspiration that can be drawn from current technology events. What's important to remember is that yes, we've been talking about complicated technology, but only you have to understand how it functions in your universe down to the molecule, not your audience. Deep technology topics can be dry to a certain extent, and over-explaining your world can be damaging to your story. Explanations regarding how technology works in each of the stories we discussed is limited for that same reason (Black Mirror's overarching concepts, specifics about how Blade Runner's Replicant technology are rarely discussed, etc.). Leave some mystery surrounding how your cyberpunk world functions and allow how your characters room to breathe and interact with that world -- it can speak for itself. Your audience may first love the idea behind your story, but what they'll remember and relate to is how your protagonists and antagonists suffer and prevail within your universe.

We hope this answered your question, and feel free to follow up if you'd like some more guidance and advice on how to construct your Cyberpunk story! In addition, feel free to check out our other post which outlines more information on how to build a Cyberpunk world.

Now get to writing, and have an awesome week!

-- Admin M x

[hellssheep]

I may need some help from someone who can review the story. Here is the first chapter to get you started (copied from my Google Docs). let me know what corrections i should make to the story, and enjoy the first chapter.

chapter 1: Awake and Aware

Wooly was the first to wake up from his slumber, staring at the ceiling for a bit before finally sitting up from his bed to look around his surroundings. There was one large window on the wall where the headrest of his bed sits against it. Despite the blinds being closed, the vibrant gold light of the morning sunrize ignites it, making the room much easier to see. Sitting between the windows are wooden nightstands fitted with their own drawer and topped off with a vintage lamp and a glass of water. It looked like the so called ‘animators’ finally put more effort into making the environment more detailed to the point where the lighting and texture look so real. 

Wooly then fixed his gaze on the bed parallel to his on the other side of the room. On the bed, there lies Amanda still sleeping peacefully in an uncomfortable looking position; her one arm is thrown across their face while her other arm is stretched out, and her left leg hangs off the edge of her bed. Yet, she is still completely at ease by the way she is steadily breathing and is laying almost perfectly still.

Wooly shook his head, still waking up from a dream he had before he woke up, only to be met with the feeling of weight hanging off his head. He could barely remember what he dreamt about, only remembering the feeling of floating, the light of lined up candles, an empty room, the sound of running footsteps, and trees passing by a window of a car. Everything else is either a blur or pitch black. Dreams can be a strange thing, with them being so abstract yet formed into something only our imagination is capable of making and throws logic out over the cliff. If only he can remember it more clearly, because it would make a pretty good story to share with somebody. Something about that dream feels important despite it not making sense, but it seems too nonsensical for Wooly to care about at that time.

Wooly reached out and grabbed the glass of old water and took a sip from it, then made a face of mild disgust. The stagnant liquid tastes too stale for wooly to enjoy, so his reaction was reasonable. He got off the bed, with his head still feeling heavy, and went toward the door with the glass still in his hand. There were two chests on both ends of the wall the door shared it with. Wooly didn't want to check them out yet in the concern that he would wake Amanda.

 He slowly and silently opened the door, hoping that there's at least something on the other side of it. His hopes come true, because he is met with another door on the other side of the carpeted hallway. On his left, there was a wall with only an abstract painting decorating it. Above the painting is a trap door that probably leads to the attic. On his right, there or two more matching doors and the hallway leads to the living room slightly lit up by the color of amber.

He decided to enter the door across from the room he slept in, gently opening it as if there could be someone else in the house. It's a silly thing to do if the only truly sentient thing in the show is himself and Amanda. He looked through into the dark windowless room, and was able to barely see that there was the basic bathroom essentials; a toilet, bathtub with blue shower curtains, laundry basket fitted with a lid, a picture above it, and a sink with a mirror above it and a plastic folding step stool below. He turned on the light to see that the painting above is that of a cute little sheep under the tree atop of a hill.

Wooly went up to the sink with his stale water glass, and positioned the step stool so he could use the sink to fill it up with fresh cold water. Once wooly stepped up on top of the stepstool, he finally looked up to see the horrors staring right back at him from the sink.

______________________________________________________________

“Aaaaaaaaaa!”

A familiar scream has woken Amanda up, followed by the sound of glass breaking. She got up and noticed the environment. The room looked too real for it to be from her prison she called her home. What episode is this setup supposed to be about?

There was light, brighter than the fading sunrise, creeping out from the opened door. She quickly went through that door to see what happened. Was it something that spooked the intruder? She went through another that led to the bathroom, only to be met by a wet puddle she almost stepped on, a cup broken into two pieces, and a… Wooly?

“Wha…” was the only word she muttered when she saw a sheep in shock. Is that really wooly that was staring back at Amanda. It surely looked like him, but the only difference is that he has a set of six horns, three on the watch side of his head. The largest horns are ram-like, and looped around his ears, while the other two horns that are sitting behind them are much smaller. one of his ears is holding an orange tag with lettering she could barely see from the distance. This sheep even has a wool-covered tail long enough to hang above and behind his bipedal hooves.

“What happened to me amanda?!” he yelled. Yep, that's wooly alright.

“I don't know wooly! How could this happen?”

“I don't know! I was hoping you would know!”

“I have nothing to do with it! I don't think I have the power to do that, let alone remember how you end up like that!”

“Well I'm sure horns don't grow overnight like this”

“Yea, neither do tails”. Those four words are enough to quickly turn and look behind him. Seems like he hasn't noticed that he had a tail until now.

“Oh gods.” wooly responded with. He looked back at the mirror and looked at his new head features. He touched the tag, feeling the burning sensation from his inflamed ear. Reading the tag, it depicts a simple upside down pentagram with the numbers 666 written under it. He then looked in his mouth and noticed that he had a set of teeth that came with sharp canines. “Oh gauds!” he repeated, with his words a little messed up as he moved his lip around with one finger to see his teeth a bit more. 

It's a strange sight to see a character model with teeth like that, but at least they are oversimplified toonish teeth instead of realistic looking ones. Wooly looked a bit more intimidating with those fangs. Wooly is also freaked out by the new features.

“Calm down wooly.” He told himself. “Hopefully, this will be over in the next episode”

“Um… that's the thing, wooly. I don't think we are in the show anymore”

Wooly turned around towards Amanda with a concerned expression “what?”

“Well, take a look around.” she told wooly, widening her arms as she looked at the environment. “This place looks too real to be our cartoonish world”.

“ I can't believe this.” Wooly muttered to amanda. “Are you saying that…we…are in the real world?”

“It looks like it. I can't use my limited abilities to change the environment. I can only do that in the tapes”

Wooly was silent for a bit.”If we really are in reality,” He breathes in deeply, then out. He finishes his sentence turning towards the sink once more “Then this is a lot to take in”.

“It sure is,” she replied. “But we are finally free from Hamelin, right?”

“I'm not sure if we are yet, besides we don't even know if somebody who took us here is one of them or not”. Wooly is making a good point. Who took them to this house? What are their intentions? For all they know, Amanda and Wooly are probably being kept hostage to make money off of them, or something worse than that.

“If I was part of that horrid company,...” somebody behind them said as they gently pushed the door further. “I could have left you there”. The kids jumped a bit in fright. At the doorway, there was a young adult looking at them with both concern and wonder.

 “Sorry for eavesdropping there guys. It's kinda a habit of curiosity. It did help me out in finding you guys though.” something seems familiar about them, but not from hamelin entertainment. She probably saw them before, like in a library or… attic!

“It’s You! That voice! That Face! You're the one from the attic; the one who played the tapes!” 

“Just call me Riley.” they replied. “And I woke up to your screams. I was hoping that I'd be the first to wake so I could prepare breakfast before you both wake up, but it seems like you beat me to it”

“I'm sorry” Wooly announced. “I woke up to get a fresh glass of cold water from the bathroom sink when i basically got jumpscared by my own reflection and dropped your glass”

“Accidents happen, and I can understand how. You look different”

“Yea, i don't know how i woke up this way”

“Well, if you don't know how it happened, then I don't know either.” Riley

“Then how did you get us here?” Amanda interrupted.

  “I’ll try my best to explain over breakfast” Riley kindly told them. “Watch out for the broken glass on the floor. I'll clean that up later.”.

“Aw yeah, can't wait to finally eat” she Responded. Amanda and Wooly did their best to avoid the glass and water on the floor while exiting the bathroom.

______________________________________________________________

All three of them entered the living room, which is connected to the dining room.Wooly admired how cozy the rest of the home looked. The house is really clean and is filled with things that are a mix between antique and modern. The kitchen had its own island counter. That was the only thing separating the kitchen from the dining room. The dining room had one chandelier that hangs right above an antique but polished wooden table surrounded by four matching chairs. 

Amanda and wooly sat down on the table. Wooly waits patiently for what breakfast Riley has provided them, hopefully it doesn't involve meat. 

“What is for breakfast?” Amanda asked.

“You'll see”. Riley opened up the fridge, the aroma of something sweet reached wooly. The smell is enough to excite him a little. They reached into the fridge to pull out two whole pies, ready to be eaten or warmed up.

“Do you guys like your pies? Cold or warm?” Both agreed to have their pies warmed up. Riley put both the pies in the oven and set it to warm instead of bake.

“What kind of pie are they?” Wooly asked Riley.

“Your favorites; one is apple and the other is peach.”. That's music to Wooly’s ears, which flapped with joy by the news.

“You know us too well,” Amanda joked. “While the pies are warming up, I gotta ask: how did we get here?”

“Hmm. where should i start?” Riley questions to themself quietly.”I guess it all started when Aunt Kate sent me a note to say goodbye and to give me ownership of her house. She also told me about your tapes in the attic and…”

“Wait wait wait! Aunt Kate, as in Kate Park from the Kensdale Public Library?! You are related to her!?” Amanda shouted.

“Yep. that's my aunt alright.”

“Oh my gods. Did she send you to save us!?”

“More like she sent me to finish her work; maybe continuing her legacy outside of library work”

“Riley! I want to know everything you know about my best friend Kate! That explains how you know her name. I thought it was just coincidence”

“I thought you knew”

“Nah. i thought you were a friend of Kate”

“Anyways, where was I…” Riley continued their story while Amanda listened. Wooly is stuck with his own thoughts. Wooly has always known Kate a little, since she was the one that promoted Sam’s series.ever since Kate died, Wooly has a hard time trusting people, always anxious about trying to protect Amanda from triggering her entity. He is not good at sensing people’s intentions, especially those outside the tapes. When you are made and mistreated in what's basically a lab environment, you won't know who to really trust.He knew she had a niece or nephew, but Wooly didn't know they were one of them. Perhaps he can trust Riley, since they are family to Kate, right?

The timer for the oven went off, interrupting the story Wooly wasn't paying attention to. “Oh right. Forgot about the pies” Riley told themself. They got up from the table and went to the oven to take out the fruit-stuffed pastries. Riley, using separate pie cutters, took a slice from each pie and put it on a plate for them. Riley gave the slices to the kids, making sure they didn't mix them up. “There you go guys. Enjoy.” Wolly took a bite from his pie. It is a perfect combination of a sweet and juicy fruit, buttery crust, and a hint of spices. The flavors are comforting and nostalgic. 

“MMMMmmmm. This gotta be one of the best pies I have ever had.” Amanda complimented. “Did you make this?”

“Yea, with my aunt’s recipe. I pre-baked the pie after I got you guys out of that facility.”

“Hold on a sec. A facility? Is it part of the story you were telling?”

“Oh right, the story. I should continue where I left off.”. Riley clears their throat before continuing the story. “After checking out the tapes at the library, I followed the clues that led me far from home and to what looked like one of their research facilities. I have seen some strange things there. Very strange cult shi… stuff. I think they were studying demons and celtic relics like the crown of the stag and whatnot. I looked around until I saw both of you get dragged out of a room. Those scientists looked beaten up for some reason, and you guys were unconscious when they locked you up in an empty room. I swiped their keys and research data, grabbed you guys and escaped without them knowing.”

“That was impressive,” Wooly told Riley. “But you didn't have to go all this way to save us. They could have caught you and…”

“Oh shut it Wooly” Amanda chipped in. “I'm really glad you saved us Riley”

“Your welcome, and wooly. I understand your worry, but who knows what else they were gonna do to you if I left you in there a little longer.”

“I didn't mean to sound like I didn't appreciate your help, but…” Wooly paused for a moment to find the right words to use. “But now you could be in danger of hamelin as well. I was hoping you would find someone to help you out on exposing hamelin”

“I will, but I was hoping you guys could be of great help if we worked together as a team. Besides, who else is gonna take care of you guys but Kate’s nibling”

“I suppose so. How far are we from when you got us?”

“It was a 5 hour drive back home. Had to go past a few towns from there.”

“Sounds like it's gonna take a while for them to find us as long as we keep a low profile.”

“That's right. But for now, you need to stay here while I go to the market and grab a few things from there.”

“What?!” Amanda shouted. “But I wanna Go with you Riley! It's my first time outside those darn tapes and I want to go see the world, even if it's right in our own backyard.”

“I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that would raise the risk of them finding you if I bring you out where everyone will see you.”

“We can wear a disguise! We will lay low I promise. Besides, Hamelin might break in and take us while you are away.”

Wooly doesn't mind staying home for a bit, and he could probably find activities to do while Riley is gone. Wooly could convince Amanda to stay if Riley still refuses to take them, but he doubts that she would listen. She hardly listens to wooly, even if it's for her safety.

Riley gave in to her pleas “Alright, but you have to listen and do what I say okay? Maybe I will get you something if you behave well. Do you want to come too Wooly?”

“Sure. I guess it would be better than being home alone.”

“Alrighty then. Let me find some stuff both of you can wear.”

“So, what's gonna be at the market?” Amanda asks.

“Just about anything from food to clothes to technology. Every month, shops and small businesses come to the Kensdale market to advertise their products. I think there are Activities for kids there too since this town is full of them.”

“That sounds fun. I can't wait to see what the town has to offer.”

“Okay. i'll tell you the rules when we get there so it's fresh in your mind”

Hopefully she does listen to Riley Park, who is a bigger authority figure than Wooly. I guess it's because Kate was their aunt, her better friend. Can't help but feel a little jealous.

“Quick question wooly. Think your wool can fit in this corset?”

“What?” 

Looks like Wooly got the short end of the stick when it comes to disguises. Amanda giggled a little while Wooly glared at her. Well, it's weather that or being shaved, and Wooly likes his soft wool.

Next chapter