#yeah spirits and mediums and whatever

[oldtvandcomics]

I think I have identified one of the best things ever

Historic horror. The monsters are fictional, but the true horror is in the society. All the atrocities described really happened, the horror elements just heighten it. Queer protagonists with intersecting marginalized identities, also chosen to highlight the horror.

I want more. I need more. Does anyone know more books like these two?

[misshugs]

The elevator game || Colby Brock x Reader

[req by anon] You knew you were sensitive to the other side, but you didn't expect a silly little game from the internet to give you this much of an impact.

warnings: cursing, paranormal activity, reader getting (slightly) attacked by ghosts, sensitive/medium!reader, degrading, angst? still not sure what the meaning of it is tbh

a/n: this is my first request ever, i hope i didn't let you down dear anon. Concept based on this video

word count: 2.5k (not proofread)

[u n e d i t e d]

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"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby!" Colby screamed towards the camera, as always.

"Today we are here at the Driskill Hotel, also known as the most haunted hotel here in Texas." Sam continues.

"We're here to figure out why this place is so haunted and what message the ghosts here wanna tell the people. And for this video guys, we have a very special someone!" Colby says, moving to the side so that you're visible to the camera.

Waving at it and smiling, you were greeted by Colby's hands wrapped around your shoulders. "Thank you, thank you. Hello, dear people. It is I." They laugh.

"How are you feeling about this? Are you excited?" Sam asks, putting the camera on the both of you.

"I am! The place is HUGE and honestly, just looks so good!"

"Right?? When we got in it was just like a burst of shock at how gorgeous this place is." Sam said and Colby nodded.

"If it weren't haunted I'd probably come here more often, but I can already feel all of these... energies walking around, I wouldn't last too long."

"Oh, right. For anybody that doesn't know, Y/n is actually a bit of medium?" Colby asks while looking at you, making you nod. "Yeah, so she's sensitive to like the energy of shadow figures and things like that, so maybe we'll get to experience something interesting tonight!"

"I'd say hopefully not but that wouldn't make it fun I guess." You laugh and so do they while you explain it is a pain in the ass to feel those things constantly. "It is almost as if you're constantly paranoid about someone looking at you, y'know what I mean?"

"Oh yeah, for sure." Colby noded.

"Yeah so that, but those stares are more physical than anything, there are times where I can feel people walking behind me and when I look back, there's no one."

"I can just imagine how creepy that must feel." Sam said and you chuckled.

"Oh yeah. You have no idea." You smiled.

"Well then, shall we begin the investigation?" Colby asked you, smiling. You quickly smiled back.

"Of course." You kissed him softly before Sam could even turn off the camera.

"Oh, gross man. I'll have to edit that out." He said jokingly and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"But seriously though, let's keep it moving." You said and they agreed.

Walking around, there were a few pieces of lore they had to explain to you beforehand. About the one and only Driskill who created the hotel, about the little girl that broke her neck, so on and so forth.

There were times when you had this eerie feeling of constantly being followed, so you kept your arms interlocked with Colby's.

"You're doing okay so far?" He asked, cautiously caressing your hand. You nodded.

"Yeah, just feel like we're being followed." You replied, looking back where there was no one there.

"Really??" Sam asked, looking back as well but seeing nothing. "Do you think we caught a ghost's interest?"

"I mean, probably. There is a difference in between someone that's coming just for the hotel part and us, that are investigating and directly needing their intervention. We're making them curious."

"Well, for whatever spirit that might be following us, you're welcome to answer our questions later on tonight." Colby said loud enough for anything around to listen to it.

Honestly, even those small gestures made you so madly in love with him. The way he touches you softly just for you to make sure you're not alone and he's here for you is such a warming feeling.

Wilst looking around the current room, Colby walked up to a random closed door and tried to walk through.

"She said no closed doors!" Sam exclaimed, probably talking about the tour guide's rules of the place.

"Unless it's... unlocked." Colby responded, making Sam roll his eyes.

"Oop, it's Jim Hogg's room." You said, looking up.

"Who's that?" Sam asked.

"I dunno, it says its name on the top." You point up and they just laughed at the comment. I mean, what were they expecting? You had no idea about whatever story roams around these halls asides from the two main ones they've explained.

"Also I don't think you should be trying even more, like if it's hard to go in it's probably because you're not supposed to."

"We have a bad reputation of breaking into places." Sam admitted and you smiled.

"Yeah, I know. I remember that." You chuckle and hold Colby's hand to pull away from the door.

As they kept on chatting and making interesting comments here and there, you found the elevator and pointed it out. "Oh, is this the one?" Colby asked Sam and he just gave him a stare.

"This is the one what?" You ask and they look at eachother.

Sam sighed. "We were going to keep it until the time came, but we may have a little challenge for tonight that has to do with the elevator."

"Ooooh sounds fun. I wanna do it." You smile.

"You sure?? You have to be by yourself." Colby asked, worried but amused.

"Do you think I can't do this, Mr. Brock? That's offensive." You spat, crossing your hands around your chest.

"No! I meant-" He tried to explain, but you quickly interrupted.

"Cancelled, I tell you. Cancelled!" You look away with your eyes closed, trying not to laugh at the stupid situation unfolding.

"Great." You heard him sigh in defeat as Sam started laughing at the both of you. Looking back with a smile on your face, you hugged him.

"Alright, let's get going already." You giggled, gaining a kiss on the top of your head from your boyfriend.

Walking inside the elevator, it almost felt as if it quickly went down in an unnatural way.

"Did you guys feel like... the elevator dropping three inches?"

"Yeah, kinda of." Sam said.

"Three inches is a lot." Colby replied.

"Three inches is huge." Sam continued.

"I can vouch." You said.

"Mass..." Colby began talking but couldn't hold in the laugh after you said that.

Going back to the main lobby, you all reached out to a girl that was apparently the tourguide. She quickly explained the story of the place, how it ended up being the renouned hotel it came to be.

When she explained that the smell of cigar was one of the main ways Driskill manifested, your eyes went wide. "You're kidding."

"No, did you smell it before?" She asked.

"I did! But it was like, close to the entrance so I thought that maybe someone was smoking. I did find it rare because it was just a glimpse of it for like a solid second and then gone." You explained, making the girl smile.

"Well, that was him."

"No way." Colby said, smiling at you.

"Yup." She nodded, continuing to explain as you all started walking back to the elevator. Going inside, the door closed only to be opened again. "Oh?"

"Did we just pressed five and went to one? It's haunted!" Sam exclaimed.

"That was weird." Colby said, looking at the door.

"It was, that was so weird." The guide said, trying to close the door once again, only for it to open again.

"Does it do that often?" You asked and she shook her head.

"No! It doesn't." She walked back out and talked to someone from out side. "Are you fucking with us?"

"That's so strange- oh, I hit it." You whispered. The guide came back in.

"But you see it, right? I'm pressing five and it like start to go up but then it stops." The door closes once again, only for them to open.

"Oh my god." Sam said, whispering.

"And we're doing a challenge here?" You asked confused, making them laugh.

"Not here exactly." Colby smiled.

"Lemme- I'll go out." You said, walking out of the elevator, watching as the doors began to close, only for them to open once again. "Oh no, that's- that's a malfunction alright."

"And you said it, these malfuction all the time." Colby said to the guide as they walked out of the elevator.

When Sam did it by himself, it started working all over again.

"What the fuck??" Colby yelled.

"Are we like fat? Is it fat shaming us?" You whined, making everyone laugh.

And so, even though your night barely started, you were already having some activity to say the least.

And it kept being that way all night. Constant responses from spirits, intelligent ones at that. The little girl, the woman from the vortex room... all the way down to the challenge you've been anticipating the whole night round.

The elevator challenge.

"I think it might be just me but every single time we pass through this side of the hotel I feel like actually throwing up."

"Wait, really?" Colby asked, worried.

"Like an eerie feeling more than anything, almost like I'm kinda feeling a bit dizzy whenever we pass through here."

"Are you sure you want to do this? You can still back out, or I could go in with you." Colby tried to make you change your mind, but you were settled in it.

"No, I have to do it alone. What if it doesn't work because we're together? You're not gonna let me do this right?"

"I do! I'm just worried." Colby admitted, making you smile.

"You cutie. I love you so much." You said, smiling at him and cupping his face before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

"Y'all are gonna make me puke, another part I'm gonna have to cut out." Sam joked, making you giggle.

"Alright, alright. So, how does this work?" You ask, hugging yourself as you wait for instructions.

It was a simple game. Supposedly, you had to hit the buttons of the elevator in a specific order. In the last one, you had to invite in a lady. If the ritual worked, you were supposed to start going up into another world. If it didn't, well, nothing happened and it failed.

"So... I'm about to get isekai'd? We're going to an anime, brothers." You laughed at your own joke while they handed you your camera.

"I send you the order, just in case." Sam continued, and you nodded.

"Thank you, 'cause I already forgot." You turned on your phone as well as the camera and walked in.

"Any last words?" Colby asked cheekishly, making you smile.

"See you in the other side." You answered, before the door closed. You sighed, putting the camera up to your face. "Alright, so... I'm supposed to hit this one first." Switching the camera back to the buttons, you hit the number four.

It began moving. "Oh, good. It would've been a mess if it already fucked up. Alright..." You sighed. "I didn't told them this, but I do find the thought of getting stuck in an elevator horrifying. I just agreed because maybe it might help me out, but it doesn't work the fact that I can feel so many spirits around this area specifically every time we walk past it." You explain before getting on the next floor, touching the next button.

Back down on the lobby, Sam and Colby were talking.

"I didn't want her to do it, honestly. I was gonna do it myself." Sam said.

"Right? She's our guest too, what if something happens to her? That would be the death of me."

"Don't jinx it, brother. She'll be alright."

Boy they were wrong.

Halfway through, your vision started to get blurry, your legs were shaky and you couldn't brush off the feeling of pressure on your chest. It was starting to make you nervous, even more so the fact you were alone.

You started thinking to yourself. What if something really did happen? What if you summon something your body couldn't handle? What if it really did send you to another world?

It happened so quickly, that you have already reached the last floor before you knew it. Gulping down your dry throat, you began to speak. "Alright, if there's something... out... oh fuck." Your vision got blurry and you could feel an inmense ammout of power flushing through the elevator doors even before it opened up.

You couldn't hold it together, it was too much for you to handle as you were suspecting before. Although you tried to stay up, your legs couldn't hold your weight up anymore and you passed out, falling down to the floor, hitting your head strongly onto the hard floor of the elevator.

Luckily, the ritual didn't work. It began going down and the guys, mainly Colby, were anxiously waiting for the doors to open. When they did, their faces fell.

Colby screamed out your name, quickly rushing in and holding your head. "Love?? Sweetheart, what happened? Wake up, please. Oh God." He began shaking, carrying you outside of the elevator so that it was slightly more comfortable.

"What happened? Oh my fucking God." Sam whispered, grabbing your camera from the elevator's floor and walking out.

"She's not responding, Sam." Colby nervously said, making sure you were at least still alive.

You were.

"Should I call an ambulance or something?" Sam asked. "Oh, no. I have the keys with me."

"Let's take her to the hospital, quickly." He lifted you up from the floor and hurriedly got out of the building and to the hospital.

You were alright, luckily. It seemes you have just fainted, but you falling down to the floor and hitting your head so hard made it a bit more complicated than what it had to be.

Colby felt bad, horrible even to think that this could've happened to you.

He should've been more careful, he should've known you were too sensitive to all of these energies so that you would go alone and out to make something so nerve racking. He should've been more insisting, rather than going with the flow merely because of a video.

He let his love have that type of experience because of a mere video.

It devastared him. Made him feel absolutely awful about it. While waiting for you to wake up, he kept on downgrading himself thinking about how he's the worst possible boyfriend.

It all stops when you finally wake up. Looking around the white room, confused.

"What happened?"

"It looks like you fainted... I'm so sorry for letting you do that all by yourself, I should've stopped you, I should've at least gone with you, I'm so sorry that you had to go through that because-"

"Love. Love!" You held his cheeks softly, making him quietly stop ranting, you smiled. "You know I wanted to do it, I was the stupid one for forgetting that big energy rafts can affect me a lot, I'm so sorry baby." You kissed his nose, reassuring him everything was alright.

And honestly, he needed to hear it. From you, specifically. Sam was trying to make him calm down but it didn't really work. It had to be you, your voice, your smile.

The one thing that made him whole all over again.

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I MAY HAVE DONE TOO MUCH FILLER FOR NO GODDAMN REASON- also hoping that dear anon liked it-

thank you for reading, loves~! likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

~nikkõ

[elvisqueso]

Pocahontas (1995): 3 times Pocahontas is compared to her mother + 1 time she's recognized on her own merits.

rambling lil meta under the cut

see, what's crazy about this whole situation is that it makes me wonder what exactly pocahontas's mom was like to have left such a massive impression on literally everyone in their community? there's that outright statement that "yeah, your mom's spirit is in the wind, basically, and our people venerate her as a spiritual guide (at the very least)." we know that she's the main connection between pocahontas and grandmother willow, and there's an implication in there that whatever leadership role she held in the village is expected to fall on pocahontas's shoulders someday.

i am so convinced that this role is some kind of spiritual leader/shaman position. wise-woman, priestess, whatever it's called. we don't see anyone else besides kekata performing any kind of spiritual rites, and even he isn't seen acting in direct contact with spiritual entities. kekata has to perform chants, provide offerings, and use a medium. pocahontas can just fuckign. talk to the things. how is she doing that? why isn't anyone else really able to do that? john smith could talk with grandmother willow but would he be able to if pocahontas wasn't there (i actually think he could but that's a different post)? has she ever done that for literally anybody else? nakoma never mentions grandmother willow. nobody mentions grandmother willow. apparently, the only two people who knew about her before pocahontas brought her new bf over was pocahontas and her mom.

i'm losing track of myself here, but the point is pocahontas is Highly aware of the ghost she's expected to live up to. and it sucks. and there's a lot more to her character arc about this but the eventual come-around to accepting that she has a responsibility to be more than herself and more than her mother's ghost is so heartbreaking because it also meant she had to let go of her soulmate at the same time so i c ry

[dinneronvenus]

Doesn’t Matter Now

⭑ Gojo x fem reader

⭑ inspired by the song “doesn’t matter now” by flyingfish (listen to that while you read for max effect)

⭑ tags: ANGST ON 100, description of a jujutsu technique that forfeits the sorcerer’s life, death, a funeral, a hopeless and depressed Gojo goes to a medium, hinted reincarnation

⭑ synopsis: Gojo already lost his only true friend, so he never thought losing a woman could hurt him so badly

“There’s nothing you could’ve done, Gojo. You didn’t even know.” Utahime spoke softly, her own pain wanting to break through in her voice. “Nobody did.”

Gojo remained silent, eyes glazed over, a cocktail of negative emotions mixing in his mind. He couldn’t even look at Utahime, whose outfit would remind him of you. They stood in the ruins of the shrine your family had built and ran for generations. It had come under attack by many cursed spirits and you had fulfilled your duty to protect the people who lived and worked there, as well as its secrets. With everyone else safe, it would be rebuilt and restored to its original glory, something that should have been a silver lining.

“It is not uncommon for a high priestess to give her life for her people.” Utahime said, voice breaking at the end. This brought Gojo even less comfort.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I hadn’t heard her say those exact words to me before?!” He snapped, still not able to take his eyes off the scene in front of him. It was Utahime’s turn to stay silent.

In the middle of the leveled temple, there was the evidence of your bravery. A set of heavy stone doors bearing an ancient inscription, left open by whatever you had summoned to walk through them, loomed over the two sorcerers. Gojo already knew they’d be used as a gate to honor your memory and remember your sacrifice. His eyes begged to see any scrap of you in the rubble. Maybe this was just a trick, and you were hiding behind one of the doors.

“What could her technique have been to have killed her in the process?” He whispered to the open air, not thinking anyone could’ve heard him.

“Gehenna Gate, it is a technique with the highest of costs,” A raspy voice broke the unbearable quiet. It was your mother, who despite everything, managed to keep a small smile on her face for your surviving friends. “I am sorry she never told you that properly. She wanted to protect you, in her own way.” Her hand came down on Gojo’s shoulder and the kindness in her touch almost burned him alive.

“I didn’t… I wish she…” Gojo stuttered out, hot tears stinging his eyes. Your mother pulled him into a hug, shushing him like a child.

Five days later, your funeral was to be held at your family cemetery in the mountains overlooking the temple. Gojo had no idea how he would survive that. He spent the time until your funeral looking for someone who could communicate with the dead. Thanks to his power and connections, he found one the night before and prepared himself to have one last conversation with you.

“Welcome, sir. I assume you’re here to see Mistress Takemi?” The young man spoke just loud enough to be heard over the jingle of the bell from the door shutting behind him.

“Yeah, and she knows already so I’m just gonna head back there,” Gojo sauntered through the foyer and down the hall to the back room where a woman in black and purple robes standing over a large glass table was waiting on him.

“Welcome Satoru,” she spoke cheerfully with a deep voice that echoed her years of life.

“Don’t call me that. Can we get started?” The overly familiar attitude irked him. The woman cleared her throat and dropped her cheerful act.

“I suppose we can get right to it then.”

The woman had a technique that essentially made her into a human ouija board. Her hands rested on the glass table and it began to glow a soft greenish-blue. Gojo could see the dark circles and puffiness of his eyes in the reflection, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself for being this unable to accept that you were gone.

“Satoru?” His name again, but this time he could hear your voice mixing with Takemi’s voice. He said your name in disbelief, tears of joy in his eyes.

“Yes, yes! It’s me, I wa—”

“You can’t do this, Satoru. It’s against the laws.”

“Please, don’t tell me that right now. You hid so much from me, please just let me ask you one thing.”

Silence. Fearing he’d miss his chance, he went ahead with his question.

“Did you ever really love me?” The depth of sadness and desperation in his voice was unbearable to you, even in your disembodied state. “Why couldn’t you have told me? I could’ve helped you, I would’ve done anything to have saved you.”

“In the mountains where they’ll bury me, follow a trail that begins with pink and white flowers. You’ll find everything you want to know at the end. Goodbye, Satoru.”

“No, no, no,” He wiped the tears from his face and gripped both of Takemi’s shoulders, shouting. “Please come back! I can’t do this again!”

Regaining full control of herself, Takemi pushed Gojo off her and had him escorted out of her shop. The whole world was one hideous shade of grey. He walked for a while with no destination in mind but the grave. He wanted to go find that trail right now but he didn’t have anything else left in him. He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life. Returning home, he set his alarm and went to bed with your instructions in mind.

Utahime and Gojo walked with each other up the mountain to the funeral site. Utahime thought it was odd but refreshing to see him dressed in more traditional clothing. Just one more thing that only you could get him to do.

Everyone took their places, and your father stepped up to the podium. “We are gathered here to send our beloved high priestess to her place of final rest with her ancestors…”

Once the funeral was complete, no one but Gojo, Utahime and your mother lingered too long.

“I’m sorry again for your loss, ma’am.” Utahime said, bowing deeply. Your mother gave her another one of those wise, otherworldly smiles.

“I don’t think I’ve really lost her.” She said before taking a last look around the cemetery and turning to leave. “Why don’t we give him some space?” She motioned to Gojo and Utahime followed her.

Now alone with your memory and your ghost, Gojo began to look for this trail you had mentioned. It took him a while to find it but when he did, his path to the end was quick. It led to a small clearing where the grass was lush, and he was consumed by the smell of many different kinds of flowers and plants. The sight of the small garden was as beautiful as you were to him.

Looking around for anything that could be the answer you spoke of, he saw a faint bit of energy coming from inside a tree. When he got close to the tree, he found it had a hollow spot in it where you’d left a diary. He fished it out and walked to a shaded place in the clearing to begin reading it. Every page was an entry about the two of you together. All of your private feelings from when he was just a crush, and once you had gotten closer, you even glued in pictures you’d taken together.

Gojo couldn’t control his tears or hide his sobs. His body shook against the tree as he held the diary close to his chest. He calmed down enough to continue reading it, with the last entry being dated a week ago.

She knew she was going to die… He thought. You had written about the rise of cursed spirits in the area of increasing numbers and strength and how you felt like it was time for you to fulfill your duty to your people. More than that though, you wrote about how you wished you could have told Gojo. How you wanted to stay with him forever, how he was the only thing you’d ever loved as much as you loved the Gods, and how because of that you wanted to make sure he was safe and didn’t have to fight for once.

It was all too much, Gojo swore he would drown in his own tears right there. The wind picked up and blew the diary’s pages, landing on entry from before you two had met.

6.25 — Training Notes: after a long session of training and studying my technique’s history in my family. I have learned of a way I might be able to circumvent its cost. If I summon a deity of destruction that has the ability to reincarnate, then I will reincarnate too! One of my ancestors did that long ago, although it took 59 days for them to come back.

Gojo couldn’t believe what he was reading. He wiped his eyes on his sleeves furiously and scrambled to his feet. He stored your diary in an inner pocket of his kimono and made his way down the mountains to the temple ruins.

He inspected the gate and found exactly what he needed to be able to accept the loss of the only woman he’s ever loved. Utahime was strolling the grounds when she noticed him in the air, getting a close look at the doors.

“Gojo, what do you think you’re doing? Get down here!” Utahime found his behavior so disgraceful. He chuckled on his way back to earth.

“I was just checking on something. Had to be sure that I wasn’t seeing things.”

His eyes were red and puffy, but his annoyingly cheerful attitude was starting to return. Utahime couldn’t tell if she was relieved or annoyed.

“Checking on what?”

“Eh,” Gojo put a hand over the diary in his pocket.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

[sgiandubh]

It's all fake, anyway

Oh, my. The last two or three video snippets in Marina del Rey. The revolt. The pearl-clutching. The hate.

Again, you know nothing, Jon Snow. It's all about the medium being the message, again: carefully calibrated snippets of information, destined to a captive, deeply divided and (how can I put that without sounding offending, I wonder) unexperimented (yes, that's decent enough) audience.

During the last 24 hours, we've got the Marina del Rey gin promo & MPC teambuilding (hardly an orgy, btw) and C's MUA (or is it hairdresser? irrelevant) hinting on Instagram about a photoshoot at a gin distillery in a #beautifullocation, somewhere on Earth, presumably in Scotland - given her last IG follow. No further details, of course. Very probably a (late-) latergram, too, when she finally got the green light to publish it. Implying nothing, but leaving a boulevard bandwidth for people to infer whatever suits their own narrative. Expect FMN news soon? I highly doubt that and stand corrected: the last photoshoot (with McSideburns, in London) was on May 3rd, when she needed to somehow show the world the Two of Them were continents apart. Identical modus operandi. And always, always via tertiary players.

As for the Marina del Rey teambuilding, if you think that is 'S living his life' you are: a) living in a remote mountain/island area or under a rock; b) an impenitent Mordorian with an agenda to boot or c) incredibly incompetent with the way of the world (or at least, that world). Allow me to translate?

It is alcohol promo, duckies, disguised as teambuilding. The intended message is aimed at a younger, non-OL related audience (as I already warned you) and it roughly goes like this:

'we are a fun loving, no nonsense, start-up business in the spirits industry. Because we don't have a huge advertising budget, we're testing the waters with a cheap, reality-TV snippet to better evaluate the number of social media clicks and new followers and help gauge & calibrate the next step'.

Was it poorly executed? Yeah, you could say that, but then what to do, in a very restrictive, highly regulated tobacco & spirits advertising market, hum? Is it my cup of tea? I don't drink, therefore this type of message touches one ball without really moving the other.

Yes. Start-up business: if we take into account the COVID logistic delay, I believe we're still in that three-years frame. And this detail is essential in order to put context around a very forgettable snippet. Selling a brand-new, more democratic product. Selling it clumsily, in an effort to build relevance, because even bad advertising is, ultimately, good advertising. But make no mistake: it's nothing more than that and it is all they can do, in the current context.

This brings to mind another aspect of the charade, namely the fact that after the Remarkable Week-end (and with the exception of some carefully scripted 'slips'), released and available information progressively became (at least) two-tiered.

First tier: information carefully calibrated for immediate release and general consumption, primarily but not exclusively by the fandom. This includes: spirits shilling, innuendos galore, look-here-not-there latergrams. It also entails less direct interaction with the fans on socials and delegating the media management to secondary players (often called to the rescue, too).

Second tier: public information with a limited availability (you have to take the plunge and pay), for sleuths able and willing to go the extra mile. They paint a very different landscape. And draw two copycat timelines of people who are investing, buying and selling property and overall branching out of their primary source of income with a plan.

I am not a photo sleuth. But with a little bit of time on my hands, I am a decent paperwork analyst. Accounting is not my forte, but legal and business is. I saw what I needed to see and it holds.

So before you start screeching (bad idea, right?), remember this (credit given to @dillon7fan, thanks):

Not really: it is doctored make believe. Bless your heart, honest guy.

Next stop, Tehran. Yes, you read that correctly.

This evening or tomorrow, at the latest. Because context is everything and this fandom severely fails at this.

[sapphire-drawings]

Hey Sapphire! In your adult Webber/ Wendy au, could you please describe and talk about Wendy’s statues. Because, not all the survivors know her, and that is like the way they see her beyond the radio’s voice. And, I imagine, she portrays herself different from how Maxwell portrays herself, because she isn’t seeking fame and its greatness. Also, your Au is great, and I pretend to write about it, so, do you have any problems if I post it?

Quick-ish reply cuz you got me thinking and the truth is... I've no idea what's Wendy's role in the Au

But first

Anyone's free to write, to draw or whatever they please with this Au. I'm not the owner of the originals, this is just something I came up with for funsies and obsession

Just don't put things in my mouth for "what's canon and what's not" and tag me so I can see it!! ^^

Although if I like someone's idea I'll ask to make it canon lmao

Now get ready for some random nonsense.

Or don't read it and just enjoy the drawing, whatever please your eyes

The original idea was for her to be a magician just like canon Maxwell and Abigail would be her assistant. Carter Sisters' magic show or something

But my Au is weird and not planned at all

Abby is also Jack and Will's mother (weird, I'm aware) so, How is she the assistant/Next-Constant-Queen and mother mourning her "dead" sister and children?? (well, Jack is the only one dead for real)

...I'll be rambling from this point forward, sorry but not really

Abby HAS to die thanks to something Wendy did

What if... Wendy's show is the medium type? She "contacts" spirits and fortune telling stuff. She's a failure until the codex appears. By this point she lost contact with the family, (hence why William and Jack don't recognize her at first glance (A simple "she looks like mom but not quite")) focusing in what the canon says, fortune and glory seeking evolving into greed.

Then Abby goes after her??? For some reason???

They reunite and Wendy is too stubborn to go back and then They cause an accident that takes Abby's life but as far as she knows it was Wendy's fault??

And her last act before everything goes down to hell is an attempt to bring her back through the codex?????

Or something different I can't think of??????????

...

...................

...Few on the only things I know is that I want Wendy to still be involved in spiritualism to decipher the Codex while baby William got into dark arts as an attempt to bring Jack back. "Why would you? that doesn't makes sense" you may think

1.- None of this makes sense so shut up. I can't think that far

2.- I want William to still being able to create shadow puppets cuz I have a comic idea where he spawns one by accident and Jack haunts it and "gains a body". Mr. Webber puts a painful stop to it to prevent any possible danger or corruption and blah blah blah-

Ssssoooooooooo yeah

Everything's a mess but I'm glad you guys are enjoying the ride

I'll update you if I ever come up with a "canon" timeline)? and what not (I won't get mad if you come up with ideas to help either.....)

[sprinklepartyfall]

So, in light of this, and finding out Bloodmoon died apparently, the brainrot began, enjoy.

@o-i-w-u pspspspsps-

The trick board.

(Spirit/Monster?) Bloodmoon twins x Reader

[Insignificant Warnings: This is medium-long in length, I did not proofread this, it basically gets cut off as a cliffhanger at the end.]

In a far off timeline, the world was shattered. Chaos from the breakdown of the leaders and the cowardly actions of the followers. Luckily, you never liked people, so you were already pretty skilled at avoiding them, yay anti-social behavior-!

As a lone survivor, you learned pretty fast that most easy things were probably a trap made by other survivors. You had been currently walking around a store, sneaking around the people already there to grab supplies and go. That was before you heard them... talking to themselves? To air maybe?

Once you got a closer look, it seemed they'd been trying to use an ouija board... how someone could find one was a mystery, and why they would keep it was beyond you. But it was funny that they tried, and quite clearly failed to talk to whatever ghost or demon they were trying to find.

You stuck around, mostly since they were arguing and, well, it was over something stupid and you needed entertainment. That was when you got one idea, it only seemed to be three people... so you stole the ouija board while they were distracted, causing quite the fright when they noticed. Chaos was one thing that would never leave the broken world you lived in, and that was somehow a small comfort for you.

You'd left the building, walking through the shadows with your newly acquired item as the yelling of panic fades behind you. Was it mean? Yes. But was it funny? Hell yeah. The board, along with its little planchette, was under your arm.

You walked to an abandoned park nearby, climbing up a tree burgrudgingly so you wouldn't be spotted, and set the board down. You didn't expect it to work, so you didn't bother trying, unlike the probable ghost that made it quite clear it wanted to talk. You nearly fell out of the tree when you saw it start moving, firstly because that was definitely not just the wind, and Secondly because that's not how it worked...

The piece went to the 'hello' area showing this was happening whether you wanted it to or not, you did not get a say in this. But of course, after a couple minutes of stunned silence, the spirit spoke again; 'R-E-S-P-O-N-D–T-O–U-S' that wasn't comforting, that wasn't comforting at all, there were MULTIPLE.

"...Hi..." You mumbled out warily, panicking a lot more internally than externally. 'H-E-L-L-O' The spirit spelled out, even though there was a spot that already said hello- 'Y-O-U–L-I-V-E' The spirit pointed out, making you tense even more, maybe you were just insane? That would probably be... worse actually... "I am." You responded hesitantly, glancing around to make sure you weren't about to die some cruel death.

'W-H-Y–T-E-N-S-E' oh gee, you wonder why, it totally isn't the fact you're probably haunted or cursed now. "No reason." You stated simply, because you aren't going to be a jerk, that would be rude. "Who are you?" Your tone was polite although with a hint of anxiety, which was probably not fine. Most people would run from this... in fact, you would have been too, if it weren't for the fact you were in a tree, and would probably just lay there in defeat if you fell.

'B-L-O-O-D-M-O-O-N' You had to pause at that name, it wasn't common at all and definitely didn't scream "I'm friendly!" But you were probably stuck with it in some way now. "...nice to meet you." You responded politely, how else were you supposed to react to this? You were an anxious introvert and this was a potentially bloodthirsty ghost, not a great combination.

'Y-O-U–S-M-A-L-L' they pointed out, in which you weren't actually THAT small... so how tall was this ghost?? Apparently, much taller than you. "Okay... why are you... talking to me?" You asked, ignoring the strange spirits words. 'Y-O-U–L-O-O-K–F-R-A-G-I-L-E' the spirit responded, a sudden chill running down your spine as it spoke. "...is that a good thing to you?" You responded sheepishly, tilting your head slightly as you spoke. Instead of an answer, however, the planchette was thrown at your head, hitting the tree behind you. A few small bits of bark fell from the trees trunk, and you felt so thankful that you tilted your head out of its way.

"Nope, nope, nope, nope-" You started repeating as you moved to get up, you were ready to climb down and run now, but that was before you were grabbed by something... maybe someone.

You yelped, yet it was muffled by a cold hand over your mouth, another wrapped around your waist as you were pulled into the tree. Your eyes wideneding before shutting completely, a dizzy feeling overwhelming your senses as you were taken away.

Once you had regained your senses, finally opening your eyes, you were met with a void and... a face strangely close to you. You flinched back, now noticing the feeling of someone holding you from behind as they had chuckled at your feared reaction. "Other, they are finally awake." The one in your face stated with a grin.

It seemed like it was themed after the moon, yet showed no sign of silver aside from the silver star on its chest... it had various shades of red adoring its large form. It was a good four, maybe five feet taller than you and god was it intimidating. It looked like some sort of beast, claws, sharp teeth bared in that eerie grin it showed you. It looked... scaly in a way, its skin looked rough with the fading scars along its chest, arms, and left hip. It wore some sort of navy blue robe of sorts, yet it didn't cover much of its appearance like most would, more so just... kept it warm, maybe?

"Indeed other! It seems they survived!" The one that held you, or 'other'? Spoke, its excitement clear. its appearance quiet similar to the other creatures, the only differences being its star was gold, it had less scars, and it felt a bit fuzzy...

"They seem confused." 'Brother' spoke, its voice holding clear amusement as it held your chin up. "Yes, but I like them like this." 'Other' stated mischievously, squeezing your form in its grip, earning a slight squeak from you. "W-where am I‽" you blurted out, finally choking out the words stuck in your throat.

"In a void." 'Brother' stated bluntly, its grin widening slyly as it looked you up and down. "But- no- why-" You stammered, trying to lean away from both of them, but you couldn't move much... you were trapped with them. "Relax, little human! We won't hurt you, much~" 'Other' teased, pressing you further into it with a smug expression. "I-I can't stay here! I need to go back!" You exclaimed, trying desperately to reason with them, but it only earned chuckles of amusement. "No, no. You can' leave..." 'Brother' trailed off, both their grips on you tightening possessively...

"You're ours now, human."

————————————————————————

[Oh my god, I contemplated giving up like three times while writing this. This is what happens when I get a prompt and make it up as I go. My notes app says this is like nine pages long too.]

[mosneakers]

Coraleye: So... what should we do first? Tycho: I thought you'd have that planned out, these are your stomping grounds after all. Coraleye: Well, I guess we could-

Tycho: [Suddenly gasps]

Coraleye: Babe? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost! Tycho: I THINK I JUST DID. Coraleye, is that merchant... [whispers] dead?

Coraleye: Huh? [Looks behind her at smiling merchant selling herbs] Oh her? [Hysterical laughter] Honey, you are so cute! No she's not dead. She's just astral projecting. Or Dream-seeking, spirit-walking, soul-traveling, whatever you want to call it. We have lots of terms for it. Basically, some souls who have ability can travel to the realm to hang out or work or whatever. Don't worry, you won't see any ghosts here unless you're a medium. [Wink.]

Tycho: Ah. Comforting.

Coraleye: Oh, don't look now, but over there, is Harmony Cobb... I don't know if you remember me telling you about her- Tycho: Of course I do. She was the spellcaster that sold her plasma to Morgyn at that New Year's party, that indirectly led them to... [voice trails off] ...yeah.

Coraleye: Wow. Impressive memory, you! Maybe we should get out of here. She and I haven't talked since that night happened, I don't want her to see me. It'd be so awkward. Tycho: Too late, she's coming over here now...

Harmony: Coraleye Darling? It's been so long since I've seen you here, is that really you?

Coraleye: Yep, it's me! Live and in person. Not a ghost. heh.

[takeyourcyanide]

Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Spirit Albarn, Franken Stein, mentions of Kami

Tag(s): Hurt/Comfort, Age Regression (SFW), Men Crying, Mental Instability, Stuffed Toys, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff & Angst

Word Count: 2 710

Summary: Stein sees a T-Rex stuffed animal, regresses before and after being allowed to purchase it, and shit also happens to hit the fan, because I don’t write for happy people LMAO

Note(s): I finally wrote more age regression like I said I would. I don’t like this a whole lot either, but I’m planning on writing some longer and better things, so hopefully that will happen. I am just posting this and Muse of Tragedy, because these are ideas I’ve had in my head for a long time that I simply never wrote. So, here!

The vivid, fluorescent lighting of the quaint drugstore left Stein internally grimacing, keeping his limbs close to his frame as to make himself seem smaller and further away from the blaring stimulus.

Going in one ear and out the other was the apparently endless rambling of Spirit, as he went on and on about Kami, and Valentine’s Day, and how he nearly forgot, and how he just has to buy her the cutest teddy bear ever. Franken merely hummed in response, scanning the aisles both curiously and indifferently, bored and more than prepared to exit the store.

As they, at long last, arrived at the line of shelves filled with stuffed-toys, particularly bears and rabbits holding non-anatomically correct hearts (Stein would much prefer to see anatomically correct heart candies) and lollipops, the meister spotted the best thing in the entire drugstore; a medium-sized Tyrannosaurus-Rex, greenish-brown in color, and without the glass eyes that left him suspecting whether or not it came equipped with a built-in camera.

Albarn grabbed on his chosen teddy, beginning to march away from the aisle and to the checkout area, as he glanced over at Stein conspicuously gazing longingly at a stuffed dinosaur, not moving, simply staring. The glint in his partner’s eyes was almost cute; childishly curious and desiring.

“Stein?” He called out. And before he could ask the boy whether or not he wanted him to buy the stuffed animal (he looked too intrigued by the toy to deny him of it), Franken turned towards him, not verbally requesting the stuffy, instead, pointing at it with an expectant and hopeful look to his countenance. He appeared as though he was preparing for disappointment, or to be yelled at. He honestly seemed to expect overly negative reactions rather often - too often - and something about that sent a pang of sorrow down Spirit’s tired spine. He’d never seen him look so childlike and tiny before.

Now he really couldn’t say no.

“You wanna get it?” Stein clumsily nodded his head once, a dramatic motion of his head as he pursed his lips slightly. “I didn’t think you were the type to like plushies. But sure, go ahead and grab it.”

“Dinosaur,” the meister said, holding the animal to his chest, moving to walk beside his weapon-partner, not ceasing his intense and elated staring content with it.

“Oh, yeah. You do like dinosaurs and all that science-y shit, so, I guess that makes sense,” the weapon shrugged his shoulders, grabbing it briefly from Stein, as he scanned the toy. The silver-haired boy seemed to subdue a pout, returning to his former blank state. “You want it back, right?” Spirit returned it into Franken’s hands, placing the bear he bought into a plastic bag, paying for the items.

“Thank you,” Stein mumbled, not exactly smiling, though the corners of his mouth were more upturned than usual.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” he felt more like something of a parental figure to him everyday, or at the very least, when his partner would begin acting… like whatever this was. But the meister’s policy was ‘Don’t ask, don’t tell,’ so interrogating him about his quirks would more than certainly get him nowhere. “You don’t have to pay me back or anything, by the way. Knowing you, though, you’d definitely find some sneaky-ass way to never pay me even if I wanted you to. You’ve done it before, you bastard! So, I know for a fact you would!”

Stein giggled mischievously in a hushed voice, Spirit joyfully smiling and chuckling to himself as he listened to it. He hadn’t heard the male really laugh in a long while, he’d seemed rather morose and sort of lacking in any and all emotion as of late - even more so than typical, which he frankly didn’t think was even possible. And for what reason his partner was behaving more overtired and flat, the ginger did not know.

They exited the drugstore, Stein seeming more relieved in a sense as they were shrouded in the shadows of the night, the desert air much cooler than just a few hours ago.

<——————————————————>

Stein plopped swiftly down onto the sofa with his prized plushie, Spirit sitting beside him and placing the lovey-dovey teddy bear onto the coffee table, where the tissue paper and gift bag happened to be located.

Whilst writing thoughtful sweet-nothings on the sparkly and shiny card he had bought a little while back, he made repeated glances at his partner, of whom was merely sitting and staring into space, a more petulant, yet deadpan twinge to his countenance.

He looked awfully squeezable, however, with his stuffy tucked against his sternum, his knees holding the toy even closer. Perhaps this newfound affectionate feeling he didn’t think he’d ever feel towards Stein would dissipate once the meister said anything about ripping someone limb from limb.

“You okay over there?” He chortled, his brows pinching together in mild concern as he signed the glimmering card, placing it into the bag along with the heart and candy-holding bear.

Franken remained particularly unresponsive and immobile, it was almost as though he was entirely zoned-out of life itself, not present in the room with Spirit. Though there was something stirring within him, he could see it in his exhausted and narrow eyes, they were both decomposing and lively simultaneously in a way that only Stein could achieve.

“Hey. Did you hear me?” Albarn poked his arm, only to receive nothing back.

He inched closer to his partner, untucking and lifting Stein’s arm from the stuffed T-Rex as gently as he could, as to hopefully not startle him. Though, perhaps if he were to startle him, he’d scare him out of his current stupor.

As he raised his appendage, he moved it up and down almost playfully, stopping and leaving it to hang right in the middle. And his arm did not fall.

Spirit rose an eyebrow in the face of this strange behavior; Stein had gotten like this before - he’d refuse to speak, and would either move too much, not too much, or very robotically. But he had never done this before.

Albarn simply stared at the unmoving arm for a moment, confused and worried, not even noticing the salty tear falling from his meister’s right eye, or the way his chest made abrupt movements as noiseless sobs escaped him.

He gazed upwards, eyes widening at the sight before him, as he marginally began to panic.

“What’s wrong, Stein? Don’t cry,” he hadn’t realized before how much the sight of his counterpart weeping would both upset him and frighten him. “Was it something I did? I’ll never touch you without asking again, how about that? Please don’t cry.”

Spirit’s eyes flicked all over the room as he pondered how in the world he could possibly comfort his meister. He’d never seen him cry before, how was he supposed to know?

“Na’ yu,” Stein murmured under his breath, his tone sounding pained as though it was his first time attempting to speak.

“Not me? It wasn’t me, then? Can I touch you?” Spirit reached his arms out, retracting them, only to flail them outwards once more.

He didn’t reply again, instead focusing on trying to relearn how to move his body, desiring to position his arm back into its former place.

Spirit noticed this, grabbing his arm and moving it to tuck around his plushie just how it was before.

“T’an’ yu,” he whispered out slowly, mechanically.

“Of course,” the weapon reesponded with a polite smile, looking around the room one more time, before just pulling his partner over to him, essentially sitting him on his lap, shoving his head into the crook of his anxious neck.

This more than certainly alarmed Stein, his eyes bulging, as he acted on instinct - squirming and writhing out of his grasp.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to freak you out, I’m sorry,” he shushed his perturbation in the sweetest voice he could possibly muster. Stein sat up, perched on his thighs, as his bottom lip seemed to quiver lightly in response to his former statement. More tears bubbled up in his eyes, spilling over, as the scientist shoved himself right back to where the redhead had originally pushed him, choking on pitiful sobs.

“Shh…… I’m sorry. This is all so.. not you, I just don’t know what to do - I’m sorry,” he held his head, thinking to himself ‘Well, at least he moved for the first time in however many minutes he hadn’t.’ Spirit soothingly rubbed up and down his back, his nails dragging along empathetically. “And I know you never tell anyone anything.. You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong. I know this must be really scary already, isn’t it?”

Stein had evidently lost control of himself. It was clear as day to anyone that he had unwillingly began blubbering, as he repeatedly attempted to hush himself up, his efforts ultimately proving to be in vain.

He nodded his head in agreement with the weapon’s question, as he sniffled into Albarn’s shirt, his hands still maintaining their iron grip on the stuffed toy.

“Yeah, I know it is,” Franken was seriously the absolute last person he expected to be coddling. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I’m sorry. I’m always here, okay? You don’t have to tell me anything, but if you need to, you always can. Whatever was happening earlier didn’t look too comfortable or fun.”

Stein hummed in agreement once more, the noise reverberating within his overtired throat, as he huffed out another sob.

He brought one of his hands to his face, placing his thumb in his mouth, gently suckling on it, as his chest bumped up and down due to the suppressed wailing.

While it was a considerably strange thing for a teenager to do, Spirit couldn’t care less what Stein found tranquillizing, so long as it helped him.

“It’s okay to cry, Stein. I’m not judging you. I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise. You’re stubborn, so I know you won’t believe me, but I’m not gonna tell anyone, I swear,” he tenderly attempted to reassure the meister.

That only sent more tears running down his flushed face, as Stein glanced cautiously up at the ginger, whimpering into his finger.

Spirit grinned down at him, whispering, “You don’t have to believe a word I say, okay? I can see it in your eyes,” he adoringly flicked Stein’s forehead. “I don’t know what exactly is so hard for you, but I can see it’s hard for you. Stop arguing with yourself in there. Stop thinking about whatever it is for a minute. How about we play with your little dinosaur?”

He snuffled, lazily and begrudgingly removing his face from his weapon’s neck, making his stuffy more visible to the both of them.

As he did as such, Albarn could get a much better look at his blotchy, tear-stained face, a pout stretching his poor lips.

“Do you have a name for it yet?” Spirit prodded softly, restricting the urge to fondly crush the male he had seated on his femurs, as he stared shyly down at the dinosaur.

When he received no response, he assured, “You don’t have to speak, that’s okay. We can just play with it, or do whatever you want to do with it… Except dissecting it!” He earned another precious titter from Stein.

The meister held the T-Rex up to Spirit’s doting face, the ginger patting it jestingly on the head.

Stein chuckled, sniffling a bit once more, as he patted the scythe on his own head.

“Top hat,” the aspiring scientist vaguely spoke.

“What about a top hat?” He confusedly questioned.

The giggly meister pointed at the dinosaur’s head, staring inquisitively at his weapon, trying his best to temporarily forget about the bickering and the static and the inevitable.

“Oh, I see! We should get a top hat for your T-Rex, shouldn’t we?” Stein nodded his head, biting on his bottom lip in thought.

“‘N f’r you,” he elucidated, slurring his words in a baby-ish voice.

“Oh, really? Wouldn’t I just look dashing in one?” Spirit said in an overly and theatrically elegant manner, his visage contorting into a rather silly expression, leaving Stein to grin.

“No,” he was a menace, but at least he was honest.

The redhead feigned taking offense to his utter brutality, fake-crying with a hand on his chest. Franken heartily laughed, or rather, sadistically, and yet innocently, concurrently.

Abruptly, his giggles ceased, as a deep and troubled sigh escaped his lips, his countenance falling and returning to its earlier indiscernible oddity.

Spirit’s did just the same, his brows furrowing as he solicitously studied the meister’s body language and face.

“What is it, sweetheart?” He was hoping to Death that he would enjoy being referred to with touchy-feely nicknames in the state he was currently in, and that they’d relax him somewhat.

“Top hats and your dinosaur can’t really distract you, huh?” Stein sat still, blankly staring down at the stuffed toy. “That bad?” He nodded.

“Is there anything I can do?” His eyes watered once again as he processed the question being asked, moving his head from side to side, as he wanted nothing more than to forbid the tears from rolling.

“Not’ing,” he mewled. “I can’t ev’n do not’ing.”

“Aw,” he brought Stein in once again, warmly hushing his bawling. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so fussy, baby.”

Franken immediately looked up at Spirit, his eyes switching from wide-set at first to squinted and glazed over, his fingers immediately making their way back to his mouth, as his previously taut figure melted into the weapon’s chest.

“F’ssy,” he shakily repeated, hiccuping.

“Yeah, fussy,” Stein nuzzled into this shoulder, one arm holding his dinosaur, the other wrapping around his partner and gripping his shirt, as he sniveled even more so.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay.. It’ll be okay, Stein.”

“Won’,” he denied in a voice Spirit found it difficult not to coo at.

“Even if that’s the case, I’m always here, okay? You know that right?”

“M’no.”

Spirit delicately scratched at his scalp, primping his unkempt hair. “Hm…. That’s okay. I guess I’ll just have to show you, then, huh?”

“Don’ think I can live much longer,” he stumbled over his words, unsteadily speaking. “Na’ able.”

Albarn’s expression gave in to his sullen feelings, as he patted Stein’s back, rocking them both from side to side.

“No, you can make it through, you’re strong,” he encouraged the boy.

“You don’ get it,” he yowled. “Na’ my choice. Can’ do not’ing ad’all.”

Spirit continued to shush him, as that was all he could do, petting his hair, stroking his back, ensuring him that he’d always be there.

“‘M all gone. Bye-bye,” it was difficult to make much sense of what he was saying, but there was something at the bottom of the scythe’s soul that almost could grasp it.

<——————————————————>

Eventually, Stein’s eyes sluggishly closed, though he tried eagerly to hold them open. His sobs died down, his sniffling coming to a close, as he no longer babbled.

Spirit peered down at the male’s face, sympathizing with him as he witnessed how swollen and red his eyes were, his eyelashes doused in teardrops, cheeks completely damp. Even his neck was moist with the droplets that flowed downwards.

The weapon carefully and attentively pushed the meister’s bangs out of the way, caressing the side of his face perceptible to him, as he tucked the loose and free hair behind his ear.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he muttered, disquieted by the whole ordeal. “I hope you can learn to trust me. I’m sure that won’t be easy, though, huh? You’ve never trusted anyone your life, have you?”

And he hadn’t. That much was evident.

As he held Franken’s body in his arms, he didn’t dare to move, even as he groaned and whimpered in a distressed and distraught manner in his sleep.

Was he supposed to wake him? Or would that only prove to make him more fussy and irritable?

He never knew what he was meant to do when it came to Stein.

He could only pray that one day he’d finally figure the meister out.

[dani-says-stuff]

Robert the Doll

❥ Back to the Control Center

❥ Nate Hardy Masterlist

❥ Link to Part 2: Your Very Own Attachment

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

Nate Hardy x fem!medium(?) reader

Summary: You follow the boys to Key West and visit Robert the Doll.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: creepy stuff, hauntings, some language, Robert the Doll, probably an inaccurate spirit box session, inconsistent capitalization, and ok writing

Dialogue Key:

Y/N

Nate

Sam

Colby

Spirit Box

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

“Hey, all I’m saying, is if I get cursed by doing this, I’ll personally murder the both of you and take over your channel” you spoke with a sickly sweet smile while approaching the large glass case where Robert the doll was sat.

The boys had decided the perfect way to start the night, was to do the very thing you were all warned not to. what could possibly go wrong?

unlike the boys, you decided to smile in your picture. candids rarely look good, and if you’re getting cursed tonight, you’re going to look great doing it.

Nate stood infront if you ready to take your picture. If you focused hard enough, it almost felt like one of the cute impromptu photoshoots he’d insist on during dates, not taking a picture with a creepy doll. Well- at least until you heard it.

Your smile strained and eyes widened, “Nate- are you done yet?”

the flash finally went off and he pulled the camera down, looking to you with furrowed eyebrows, “yeah… why?”

you whipped around, facing the glass. “I just heard- please tell me you heard that” you spoke turning to the two boys recording off to the side.

Sam and Colby looked at each other, then back to your panicked face, “uh, no? what did you hear Y/N?”

you quickly backed up next to nate, who quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulders. ”It sounded like someone was tapping against the glass.”

Colby was stunned for a moment, dropping the camera down and looking at you with wide eyes, “are you serious? right before the picture?”

Sam, on thé other hand, quickly took the camera and rushed to the case, trying to figure out whatever it was you’d heard.

“I don’t see anything.” the blonde called back to you, “i mean there are finger prints but it’s also a museum” he shrugged, “a ton of people probably touch the glass.”

you hummed, “yeah, can we move on now?” you laughed nervously, “i’m good with ghosts and stuff, but dolls have always freaked me out.”

nate reached a hand out to the doll, knowing how superstitious you could be, “no offense of course-”

“oh of course not!” you spoke quickly cutting your boyfriend off, “You’re, uh, you’re a beautiful doll! i’ve just never- look i even thought barbie’s were creepy!”

the room was quiet for a second before you began to laugh, finally realizing the ridiculousness of your mini word vomit. to a doll.

The boys began laughing as well, “oh my god” sam whipped his eyes, “I really wish i hadn’t turned off the camera now-”

The four of you laughing harder as you left the room, Sam turning the camera back on and angling it to get everyone in frame, “Ok, I don’t know if that was a bad idea-”

“It was definitely a bad idea” you scoffed.

“Yeah, N/N heard somethings while taking her picture.” nate grimaced.

Sam looked back guilty, “yeah- definitely was a bad idea… but we did that at the beginning of the night to see if the curse was real.”

“i bet you $10 it’s real” you whispered up to nate.

he laughed softly before leaning down, planing a kiss on the top of your head, “yeah, absolutely not, no chance it’s not real.”

“yeah, 10,000 stories? no shot it’s not real.”

“exactly.”

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

“I also heard that this was the Harry Potter portal-”

“no way in hell dude!“ you yelled out, “old fireplace with creepy attachements? oh yeah that definitely screams harry potter to me.”

Colby simply shrugged, getting in a stance to run straight into a brick wall.

“hey” you quickly spoke up after your friend face planted the wall, “if i do that, can you edit me going through the wall? please?”

They did. Later on the video would colby running into the wall, falling with a groan, and then you jumping straight through. you may have gotten an attachment from it- but hey, you only live once.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

“well- at least it smells a lot better in here.” you looked around, “and it feels a lot less crowded that’s for sure.”

Colby looked at you like you were insane, “dude i don’t know what you’re talking about it still feels creepy in here.”

“i didn’t say it wasn’t creepy- just less crowded”

“Oh that’s right,“ sam turned the camera, placing himself in the frame with you behind him, “if you’re new or haven’t seen our other videos with Y/N, they’re a medium-”

“i wouldn’t exactly say that” you laughed softly.

“ok… not like Amanda, they can’t see anything like she can and stuff, but Y/N is hypersensitive to these things. You can see in other videos, and probably this one as well, that a lot of her feelings end up matching with what our equipment will say.”

You left the boys downstairs to fill in the viewers on the history, going up the stairs to look around until they catch up.

“alright,” nate called out as he climbed the steps, “how’s it looking?”

you turned to the boys, “well- pick one” you pointed to the stairs and the door behind you, “Robert or Anne?”

“which one do i want to know?” sam asked nervously.

you shrugged, “neither is too horrible yet, one just gives off a lot more energy than the other. The stairs to the attic just feel heavy, almost foreboding? Meanwhile when i walked in Anne’s room it felt very sad and scared. a bit like- retained or constricted too.”

Nate nodded quickly, “that makes sense, she wasn’t allowed to play her music, she would feel sorta constricted.”

“True imagine having to spend youre entire life unable to do the thing you love because your spouse wanted to be the center of attention.” colby spoke up, “that must be horrible.”

Nate looking down to you with a raised eyebrow, causing you to scoff, “Babe, as much as i love being the center of attention, i’d never do that to you.”

he smirked, throwing an arm around you and leading you through the door, “just making sure.”

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

after a promising conversation with anne that confirmed most of what you thought, you all made your way to the attic.

Even after Sam’s weird chest pain, which you insisted he take a moment for, the blonde was persistent.

You walked up to the stairs, barely placing a foot on the step before nate grabbed your wrist, “absolutely not” he muttered, moving you behind him, “you’re not going first.”

“i’ve done enough stuff like this before, it’s fine.” you sighed, watching him go up.

“yeah, but this is an old building with an old attic, we don’t know how stable it is up here.”

you flushed a bit as you climbed up behind him, grabbing his hand as he helped you up. Sam and colby’s abnoxious ‘awww-ing’ behind you was definitely not helping to relive your embarrassment.

You looked around, “yeah i definitely don’t like it up here.” you muttered to yourself, moving to investigate a further section with nate basically glued to your side.

unfortunately, the boys overheard your words. standing back at the entrance and whispering to the camera with matching mischievous smiles, “well, Y/N is definitely not going to be a fan of the solo investigations then“

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

After going over to check out the hospital, the four of you went back to check on the polaroids you’d all taken earlier that night.

They flipped the four over, all of you momentarily forgetting about the extra photo you’d taken. The false sense of security you’d gained seeing four photos placed perfectly on the bannister evaporated the second the fourth picture was flipped, revealing a second photo of Colby.

You’re face paled, “guys… where’s mine?“

nate grabbed your hand, “did we just knock it over on accident?“

colby flashed the light, catching a hint of white peaking out from the banister. “Oh, found it. at least it landed face down so it could still develop.“ He spoke trying to find a bright side to this. especially since it had landed directly against the glass.

Sam walked over when Colby had frozen, rapidly turning the photo over. Colby had reached over showing it to him. The blonde quickly gasped, “no way.”

“what?“ you looked between them frantically, “what is it?“

“turns out the photo didn’t land upside down.“ Colby looked up at you, flipping it so you could see as well, “it’s just blank on both sides.“

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

“Ok, so, now that we’ve done our little portraits“ you spoke up from the floor, “where are we going for our solo investigations. I just know you two have something planned.“

“What?“ Colby gasped offended, “What would make you say that Y/N? we would never!”

you raised an eyebrow at the boy, “the way you and sam are looking at me right says otherwise.”

Sam stepped forward, camera in hand, “ok, so you may be right.“

“i’m always right.“

“damn straight”

“We thought, while i go to the tunnel and colby goes on his own… both you and nate could investigate robert.”

you turned to your boyfriend, both of you wearing wide smiles, “oh, that’s not too bad.”

“we get guest privileges!“ nate cheered.

“oh no no no“ colby laughed, “you’re not exactly doing it together.“

Sam smiled mischievously, “since Robert and Gene had a bond-”

“oh no.”

“-and you both also have a bond… we thought we could replicate that tonight.”

“oh no.”

“Nate, you will stay with robert, and Y/N will go back up to the attic.”

your jaw dropped at the blondes words, “you’re kidding.”

“nope, wouldn’t it be cool if your answers aligned? like through a spiritual connection?”

you sighed, moving forward and ripping the large flashlight from Colby, gathering some equipment, “i hate you two.”

you moved to your boyfriend, hugging him tight before you left to go to the attic. “i love you, be safe.“ nate quickly parroting the words back and kissing the top of your hair.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

you turned on the small camera you brought, filming blair witch style as you climbed the stairs, “this fucking sucks.”

you sat in the most central part of the attic you could after setting up a music box by the entrance, your drawing to your right, spirit box in hand, and camera facing you.

“Hello to any and all spirits that can hear me right now. There’s a music box over there that will go off if you pass by it, and i have a spirit box right here. It uses radio signal to piece together words and allow you to talk to me. You can use either of these things as well as any other medium you wish, like knocks or thuds, to answer my questions or you can completely ignore me if you wish. I do not want to make you uncomfortable so only do what you want to, there is no pressure.“

you turn on the spirit box, and wait. you turn, addressing the camera, “guys, we said it earlier“ you spoke fanning yourself, “but it is so incredibly-“

hot.

your eyes widened looking to the device, “yes, hot. it’s hot very hot in here”

a hum came through the box next, seemingly agreeing with your words.

“ok“ you breathed out, “so there’s someone in here?“

Yes.

“who are you?“

many.

your brow furrowed, “are there many spirits here.“

no.

am many.

then it clicked. the doll. one robert, but many spirits inside of him. “Am i talking to robert right now?“

no answer. you we’re about to rephrase you question when the music box went off behind you.

“hello? has someone else joined us.“

yes.

“what is your name?“

A

“A?” you tilted your head in thought, “Anne? is that-“ the music box went off.

you smiled in the direction of the music box, “Anne if that is you thank you for coming up and joining me. i appreciate it.”

stuck

“are you stuck here?”

together

you sighed sadly “are you stuck here with robert and gene?”

no

“then how are you stuck?”

the same words came through the radio, closer this time.

stuck

together

follow

you sat, back facing your camera, surely colby will have a blast editing the sound to make it less muffled, but if Anne came to the attic to speak to you, it only felt fair to generally in her direction.

you

with you

once again a soft smile graced your features, “you’ve stuck with me tonight?” you questioned

yes

the box spat out immediately

yes

protect

“Anne, am i right when saying youve been following us tonight and protecting us?“

no.

you.

you nodded, “saying that you’ve been following me and protecting-“

yes.

you smiled softly at the word, “thank you anne, i really appreciate that.” you paused, allowing anyone to speak if they wished, “Anne, was that robert? before you came up?“

yes

left.

“robert left?”

yes

“where did he go? do you know where he went?”

man

black jacket

“black jacket man?” nate. nate was wearing a black jacket earlier. “Are you talking about nate?“

yes

left to talk

you made a mental note in your mind, making sure to ask him if he ended up getting anything in his investigation. you we’re about to ask another question to the woman, but she cut you off first.

go.

she was just talking with you so nice and calmly and then just- go?

sick.

help.

go.

you reached back picking up the camera and facing it in the direction of the music box, which seemed to go off periodically as if someone was pacing.

“i don’t understand.”

running

help

sick

go

“a-are you saying that something is coming here? i should go?” you could feel your heart beating fast. the spirit box rapidly spitting words and increasing sense of stress in the room wasn’t helping.

tunnel

sick

run

boy

mistake

you almost jumped out of your skin when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and basically did when the robotic voice said the word right as you read it off the text message.

sam

mistake

it was a message from sam, something had happened and to please come back and meet up so he could explain.

mistake

mistake

suddenly the music box stopped, nothing came through the radio, and the feeling of anxiety dissipated, leaving only the eerie heaviness you felt the first time.

you quickly gathered all your equipment, and rushed down the stairs and back to the museum.

You have a strong feeling you were being followed the entire way back, but you didn’t worry now that you knew it was only anne, rushing along side you as you went to your friends.

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

you eventually found him sitting in the grass, “Yo! Sam, are you alright?“

“i think i just had a new experience…“

you sat next to him, out of breath from running, “slightly random question” he nodded, “did you get sick?”

Sam looked at you wide eyed, “how in the hell…“

you smiled, spinning in a small circle to look at the empty space near you, “thank you Anne!”

the blonde raised an eyebrow, “anne? what? what are you talking about?”

you only smiled, “i have some absolutely ridiculous footage to show you all”

━─━────༺✧༻────━─━

after sharing experiences and comparing footage you all decided, before you left, it would be for the best to apologize to Robert.

“Robert, do you accept our apology?“ you asked last.

Get out.

you hummed nervously, ”o-ok, uh, we understand and we’ll be leaving now” you spoke ushering the boys out of the room, “once again we are sorry for crossing the line.”

you walked to the door way, “oh- and thank you anne, if you’re still here, for coming with me tonight.” those were the last words you spoke before booking it out of the building.

That was of course, until the four of you stood in front of the building, firmly stating that nothing was welcome to follow you back to your homes.

…well, you did give anne some leeway incase she ever felt like stopping in again.

Part 2: Your Very Own Attachment

[thickness-protection-program]

Since this seems to be wandering from Pencil that Fuck to Blending Hour, have you ever used mineral spirits to blend colored pencils? I've tried many times but I just can't seem to blend out the strokes the way everybody else is able to. I use pencils with high pigment load and I've tried soft and heavy strokes for color application. Do you have any tips?

My preferred method of blending is just using the pencils themselves but I do use mineral spirits sometimes for backgrounds. And yeah you definitely have to learn how to use it properly. My tips would be

Whatever you use to apply it, it's better for it to be rounded. A rounded paint brush is what I use

Don't use too much at once bc then you start to move too much pigment and you drench the paper in liquid. After I dip my brush in the spirits I then dab it on a paper towel or something before using it

Work in layers. Do a light to medium layer of pencil first then blend. And let it dry!! Another layer of pencil then blend again and again until you get your desired finish. But be careful bc doing it too many times once again you start to move too much pigment

In my experience wax based pencils work better with mineral spirits since they're generally softer than oil based

[emptymanuscript]

One of the essays sitting and percolating in my brain is about how much (and more importantly WHY) I loathe the idea of Hard vs. Soft magic systems and how terribly these concepts are for thinking about magicbuilding.

While also in no way objecting to Sanderson's 3 Laws of Magic which I actually love because they are so clever and usable. I'm all for them.

It's a dialectic. Sue me. I just don't think that the 3 laws actually necessitate the hardness scale of magic. At all. And in some ways the two ideas actively work against each other.

I just know it is a HUGE essay, involving a lot of work and data gathering. And I feel like I can't be bothered to expend that much effort within even the medium term. So... it just kind of sits there and occasionally I'll run into something that reminds me: oh, yeah, I kinda wanna do that. Like, this is pretty good but it would be ten times as brilliant if you weren't hampered by the idea of a hardness scale of magic.

I ran into somebody today trying to talk about a pyramid of magic users that was partly dependent on this idea of a chart of Magic Hardness on the Y axis and Diversity of Magical Expression on the X axis. For four fundamental quadrants of Hard Diverse, Hard Same, Soft Diverse, and Soft Same. The last of which he couldn't think of any examples of and I'm just sitting here thinking: yeah, because one of your axes is wrong and its getting in the way of you saying something brilliant.

Think instead of several diversities: Sources of Magic, Types of Magic, Expressions of Magic, and User Variability as a 4D model. Each converging at 0, no magic. Each going to ∞, meaning each kind is entirely individual to the caster and is measured by the number of casters instead of the number of magics. And useful numbers for fiction falling somewhere in the relatively low range of numbers.

So, for the favorite Hard Magic (grumble) example, AtlA, you would have 1 source of magic: Chi. 5 types of magic: Water, Earth, Fire, Air, and Spirit. Then 2 basic expressions of magic: Elemental Control and Spiritual Control. And finally a relatively low (numbers aren't very useful but expectations are) amount of user variability in that expression. This can be shown to the audience with any level of clarity, without altering the system itself.

For the favorite Soft Magic (still grumbling) example, LotR, you would have an unknown number of sources of magic because it is never really delved into. However, it is possible to count what actually appears, and that is a low number, with some possible overlap: There's magic in the race you belong to, there's magic in the divine plan, there's magic in words and speech, there's magic in things sublimely crafted, there's magic in your intent, there's magic in birthright (not your race but your family lineage), there's magic in herb-lore and nature, there's magic in corruption, and there's magic in knowing/wisdom. It is possible to divide all those into separate categories or to unify all those into the singular Divine Will with many offshoots. The types of magic, again, are not enumerated and delved into but can be counted. There seems to be mostly the use of (un)natural phenomenon, communication/command/seduction, knowing/wisdom/fortune telling/working with fate, crafting things to do magic for you, necromancy/corruption, and oaths. Again there is overlap or not depending on opinion since the story doesn't delve into it. And user variability is fairly high in that it isn't particularly useful to know what one magic user can do in order to predict what another magic user can do. And this is really what makes it a "soft system" that whatever rules underlie the system are not only not communicated to the reader directly but aren't communicated in such a way that the underlying system is deducible. It is entirely possible to make a "Hard Magic System" (just ugh) that would produce exactly what we see in LotR. What makes it soft is the information we get, not the system itself.

And that really is my basic issue with Hard/Soft Magic as an idea. It conflates multiple different bits of information into a single bit that isn't dictated by any one of the original bits.

The Idea of Hard vs. Soft Magic relies on the idea that the perception of the Magic System is the same in the Imagination of the Author, their Expectations of the Audience and that Audience's Reception, their intentions, the Encoded piece of Art - the text itself, the Consensus Audience's Interpretations, the Individual Audience's Interpretations, AND the cultural interpretation of story as applied to this whole mess.

While literally none of that has to be true.

It is (accidentally?) doing the precision opposite of what the Artist Philosophy does at its worst. It is elevating the audience experience of Story over every other factor. It is essentially saying that every other position on the map must accept "my" interpretation and play to it. It's flipping the script - ex: men are good so women are bad but now we've had our glorious revolution so now women are good so men are bad - instead of actually addressing the problem inherent in the script - one gender is portrayed as superior to another.

BUT that's like two examples out of... hundreds? Thousands? Per year! >_<

Two texts aren't a sufficient corpus of material to talk about these sorts of things. Neither is one figure to illustrate the issue out of one textbook. And I just DON'T want to deal with that level of work. Especially since no one will really particularly care. And the minority that would be interested are generally pretty happy with the Hard / Soft divide because they're the readers whose views are being reflected. So...

:/

No point.

And this is why I shouldn't write essays anyway. I just wrote an essay about NOT writing an essay >_< I have issues >_< it's just... so much thought on how to do things on the back end (writing and worldbuilding advice) which is growing excellently right now would be so much better without that Hard-Soft conceit which is just... *sigh* an entire essay on why it is an issue. With half probably devoted to soothing egos and rough reactions of 'but it works for me.' Which is the point. The entire point.

And ugh.

And I'm probably only putting work into this in this way here so I won't feel the need to lash out at my sister quite so intensely. Again >_< I have issues.

And thanks for reading / sorry for writing. You know. Me and essays :/

[peemanne]

Disco Elysium Review: REACTION SPEED [Medium: Success] - "Uhm... Uh..."

wow hey that's not yakuza is it wowzers wowza

Yeah the game was like, really really really good so I really wanted to write something about it. Haven't done anything in a while I have to be honest so that's another reason for me to thank this game. Thank you, game

This review contains MINOR SPOILERS (but they're all out of context so honestly uhhhh you should be fine)

Reviewed on May 29, 2024. Last completed on May 26, 2023

Completed on PC

Rating: 10/10 (5 Stars)

Disco Elysium fans be like: "Oh, damn! Good thing I stocked up on healing items and quicksaved earlier! There's a really tough paragraph ahead!" It's me. I'm Disco Elysium fans.

It's hard for me to try to properly put into words how much I adore everything about this game. Every little detail, every single aspect, each and every one of those 1.2 million words in the script combine to grab you by the hand and wisp you away into its world.

This game's writing is seriously just something else. It's beautiful when it needs to be. Disturbing and haunting at times. Its comedic timing is perfect when it wants to. It's utterly heartbreaking when the time comes. The characters are all memorable, with even the seemingly insignificant side characters carrying with them bottomless depth. The amnesiac we play as oozes personality out of every alcohol-stained crevice, and carries himself through no matter which path you decide to take. Your inner monologue with your "stats" talking to you was a stroke of genius, and it does so much to inject life into every little thing you do. From hyping you up to sing karaoke, to telling you to lick spilled spirits on a table, to composing yourself to take a vital shot at an adversary, to trying to convince an old war vet to surrender their sandwich. Every little thing you do is painted before your very eyes, and you get to appreciate all of its stunning writing even more with the whole experience being fully voice-acted. Seriously, the prose in here is insane. Really inspires an idiot hobbyist like me.

And haha yeah I really enjoyed playing through this book alright alright, but I really must stress that Disco Elysium makes FULL use out of the game portion of "Computer Role Playing Game". The gameplay elements do an amazing job of bringing everything together. Your skills dictate which ones influence you the most, and which ones you're gonna hear from, further influenced by whatever ridiculous outfit you end up wearing. Not only is the skill system a great way to illustrate to the player their skills returning to them after the whole amnesia thing, but this does a lot to separate each playthrough from the last. One playthrough you'll have Encyclopedia inform you on some awesome fun facts about the chair you're sitting on, as you make use of Drama to crack open the man you're interviewing like a can. In the very next, you'll have Half-Light tell you to sucker punch a child who called you a homophobic slur. You experience the lives of almost entirely different men every time you hit "NEW GAME", despite most of the major points of the story remaining the same (and obviously the fact that you're still playing the same actual guy). But the biggest strength of the gameplay is how expertly it weaves everything together. It feels like even the smallest, most insignificant of checks will come back later to influence your next course of action. Lifted some weights in front of your partner to maybe show off a little earlier? Now you get a +2 advantage on your roll if you want to do a 360 spin kick on the head of a beefed-up racist guard. Messed up a pickup line really badly on a girl you met just after waking up? Ah, that's gonna be a -2 when you're trying to keep yourself composed when her name happens to get thrown in during an interrogation. The game will remember everything you say and do, no matter how insignificant it may seem at first. Even your check fails can open up new paths for you to take. I found myself not save-scumming as often as I thought I would, simply because messing things up would sometimes give me much funnier results than if I just succeeded as normal. I didn't find myself doing what I did for some arbitrary good or bad ending to aim for, I found myself doing what I felt like I would do. No, I found myself doing everything based on what I felt like my character would do, which might be the ultimate win for any RPG.

Most of all, Disco Elysium is a deeply human experience. This isn't a power fantasy where you play some untouchable god amongst men, you play as a broken, alcoholic man who drank so hard he can't remember what money is. Even with your physical skills as high as you can make them, the game makes it abundantly clear that you're still out of shape. Even if you're playing the whole thing sober, its characters still point out that you've downed barrels before and that you could probably break at a moment's notice. Even with Composure and Volition in your corner, keeping you up and letting you open your eyes every morning, you'll still get your heart broken again and again as memories start to resurface. And I love how the side cases never feel like lower-effort detours, but rather supplement your character, like you're simply walking through life. At one moment you'll be talking to your distractingly gaudy tie, and the next you'll try to talk a guy who yells "HARD-CORE!" at the top of his lungs whenever you approach him into becoming a communist. One second you'll repeat the same sentence over and over in front of an important ambassador like a broken record as your skills try to get you working normally again, and the next you'll try your best to tell a woman her husband's been found dead. And this game isn't afraid to get ugly: there are some downright horrific things showcased in its plot.

But after all of it, you get back up again. Your partner extends a hand to you. You put the bottle down and stretch your arms. Despite everything that's been thrown at you, every thought that's raced through your head, every rock thrown at your body, you keep living. It's a new day, and you've got a damn case to solve.

Sunrise, Parabellum.

[fili-oeuvre]

{ INT. CONTAINMENT LABS - CONTAINMENT CELL B: 213 }

Cosmos shuffled uncomfortably on the floor next to the bed. He picked at the ends of his fingers where his claws should be. They had be routinely trimmed down to a dull shape, likely a precaution from the no-furs. It felt... weird to have them this dull and round, but wasn't much he could do about it.

His mind drifted back to the bear. Images of that grotesque sight caused a wave of nausea, but he was getting used to those by now. What had that weird tailed man, Proctor, done to them? Something completely unnatural and cruel. An ember of anger about the bear's condition burned in the back of his mind, but Cosmos dosed it with thoughts of the potential consequences of lashing out about it.

He picked at the fur and skin around the nails of one of his fingers, wondering about what that bear's name was. At least then, he could say a short prayer for him like the ones the Kin of the Bear's had taught him.

Cosmos: [ I guess I could just say one without knowing his name, it'll still reach him right? Yeah, it couldn't hurt to do one ]

He closed his eyes and recited a small prayer for the bear's spirit to be reunited with whatever family or friends they may have had. Hopefully, their spirit would be able to find peace away from this horrific place. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and stared up at the blank ceiling.

Comsos: [ I wonder if that actually did anything to help... ] *he hoped that it did*

A sound from the door caused him to slightly jump as the opened, revealing an all too familiar figure standing there.

Ezer: *unimpressed look as if Cosmos had done something to offend him* Oh good, you're awake. Stand up.

Cosmos stood up where he was, not having the energy to argue. He took a few steps towards Ezer and away from the bed, so they were about 6 or 7 feet apart.

At that moment, Cosmos realized that someone else had entered the room with Ezer. Someone that he hadn't seen before.

This new person was much taller than Ezer, but not as tall as Proctor was. He had a similar complexion to Ezer, who had a golden brown skin tone, but his seemed to be more medium or light brown skin tone.

A dark red-brown tail flicked behind his back. It looked to be a bit thicker than Proctor's tail, which was more thin but was still thick enough to where it looked like it could hold objects, though this one also ended in what looked like a fur tuft, which also seemed thicker than the one at the end of Proctor's tail.

Looking up, he saw a similar dark red-brown hair that appeared to be fluffy with how it framed the person's face and puffed outwards. Though, that wasn't what caught Cosmos's attention. This person has a pair of dark-colored horns, two on each side that pointed up and slightly inwards. That made four horns in total, with the ones that were closer to the front appearing to be slightly smaller than the ones in the back.

Cosmos couldn't remember any of the other no-furs in this place having horns like that. Not even Proctor had a set of horns like that. So, why did this one has horns?

It wasn’t just horns, this one had two dark mandibles that were slightly hidden by his hair, extending out from below where his ears seemed to be, resting against the sides of his face.

His clothes were completely different too. It was had two symmetrical gold-orange streaks going from the neck down the shoulders. In fact, it seemed like his whole neck was covered up to where it met his head. At the very center of his chest was a gold-orange four-pointed star. At the sides, there was a pair of black streaks that points up and then downwards. There were two of them on each side, with the one closer to the front of the chest was slightly larger than the one below it. If he had to describe them, he’d say that they looked kind of like ribs. A majority of his outfit was an urbane brown color mixed with a medium red color around his waist. The parts of the outfit covering his forearms, hands, and legs were a black color, with no visible skin exposed, and his hands even looked like they had claws at the ends of them.

Ezer seemed to follow Cosmos's gaze of looking at the Paragon and promptly stepped between them.

Ezer: *expression darkens, a smile, or a sneer, full of sharp teeth replacing the usual smug one* Listen, little beast. If you even think of hurting our Paragon. *one of his arms lit up with blue energy that moved down to form a transparent sword-like structure around his hand* It won't end well for you.

The Paragon: *seemingly unfazed by the fact that Ezer just threatened Cosmos in front of him* Ezer?

Ezer: *his expression morphed to something resembling respect and submission as he turned to acknowledge the other figure* Yes, my Paragon?

The Paragon: *polite smile* Could you wait outside? I wanted to have a private talk with our guest here.

Ezer: *the holographic construct retreated back up until it was no longer visible, as if it had never been there* Yes, of course.

Ezer gave Cosmos one last look of "do anything to him and I'll make you pay" before exiting the room, leaving Cosmos and the Paragon alone.

The Paragon: *looks at Cosmos with his dull, yet piercing blue eyes* *his polite smile remained, but it just looked unnerving to Cosmos*

Cosmos: *nervously curls his tail around to fidget with its fur* *flattening his ears* *his fur felt like it was standing on end* *kept his gaze on the Paragon, not daring to look away*

After a few moments of silence, the Paragon hummed and a small smile stretched across his face, not showing any teeth.

The Paragon: *puts his hands on his hips* So, what they said was true. You really aren't all that threatening.

Cosmos: *was not expecting that kind of response* *tilts his head slightly in confusion* [ ....Threatening? ]

The Paragon: *runs a hand through his hair* I don't know why Proctor was so worried. You clearly aren't much of a threat. You haven't even moved from that one spot this whole time! *shakes his head* He's such a worrier.

Before Cosmos could even blink, the Paragon was right in front of him, walking around him like some kind of curious animal. It made their height difference and size difference all the more apparent. Uneasiness settled in his stomach as he saw just how small he was compared to this person. It wasn't the same as how Proctor towered him, but this no-fur was still much bigger than him.

The Paragon: *circles around Cosmos, curiously analyzing and looking over his body like he was some excited child inspecting a new toy* And you’re so small! I was wondering about the height differences between you and the other types. I’m assuming it’s a biologically evolved trait that the three types seem to have varying heights, but the bears are huge compared to the you foxes! And so are the wolves. I guess evolution didn’t give you guys any tall genes. And you’re so fluffy! *he gently patted a section of Cosmos’s hair, stretching out a strand of his hair to analyze the natural curl of it, twirling it gently between the tips of his fingers, catching it on the ends of his claws*

Cosmos: *stops himself from flinching away and keeps still as the Paragon messes with his hair* *he didn’t want to know what would happen if he somehow upset this person*

The Paragon: The bears and the wolves were fluffy too, but their fur and hair seems to have subtle differences from the foxes and each other. And it's so curly. The other ones had curly hair too. Is that a constant shared trait for all foxes? How do you even keep it clean out there in the wilds? Do you lick yourselves clean or do you take bathes? If you do take bathes, do you take them in the rivers? Aren't you worried about catching parasites from the water? Or do you have a resistance to them? Also, do you have anything that you put in your hair like shampoo or conditioner or do you just use water? I'd love to learn about what kind of hair routines you may have.

Before Cosmos could even process all the words being thrown his way, the Paragon was in his face once again. Not even Ezer got this up close to his face.

The Paragon: And your spots! I’ve never seen someone with this trait before. Is it a rare genetic trait for foxes similar to how heterochromia is rare for humans? Wait, can your species have heterochromia? I haven't seen any of that in any of our other specimen files. Oh, and your spots are so cute. They kind of seem to be like freckles. Do you know what freckles are? I used to have a bunch of them, but I don’t really them anymore, but I know several people who do though. I know that Jimena has a bunch of them. Maybe I can introduce you two at some point. I’m sure she’d like to meet you. She always seems to love meeting new people.

Cosmos didn’t know what freckles were supposed to be or who this Jimena person was. He assumed that “freckles” were some kind of pattern of spots that no-furs could have. Whoever this “Jimena” was must be an associate of some kind, possibly someone who worked for him directly like how the wolves worked for Castor. Though, he most definitely didn’t want to meet her.

The Paragon: *snaps his fingers as if he had forgotten something* Oh, where are my manners? Here I am talking your ears off and I haven't even introduced myself.

The Paragon gave Cosmos what looked like a genuine smile. One that showed no teeth and looked as if it had been practiced to perfection.

The Paragon: I'm Mortimer, but you can call me Mo if you'd like.

——————

Part 10 :1

This human is quite the talker isn’t he….Quite a curious one too….

Ezer: *waiting outside* [ I hope that that beast isn't trying anything, Proctor would flay me alive if I let anything happen to our Paragon after I was asked to accompany him... but I was following a direct order from my Paragon, so I can't really be blamed too much right? ]

Previous: Part 9

Next: Part 1 (Chapter 2)

[nasuversekinkmeme]

Weekly Roundups: Prompts

FSN

Let this be the one and only prompt I will ever send to this blog. Saber with a top hat a mustache and a fat fucking blunt. A cigarette is also acceptable.

FATE/EXTRA

smut, You know that one scene in Fate/Extra where Rani has sex with your servant? Yeah I want Hakunon to be invited in. Whether she's an active participant or if she just gives a thumb up and leave is up to you. (Archer route preferred!)

FSR

One of the remaining FSR Servants (or even characters from FSR who have the potential to become Servants due to being a historical figure themselves [like Zheng Chenggong]) being summoned to Chaldea. Honestly free for all on what exactly happens in the fill, just something that starts with this.

Anything with Zheng Chenggong and FSR Saber meeting up in Chaldea (with both as Servants even if the former hasn't actually been made one yet in Fate) tbh.

FGO

smut, BB Dubai’s henchmen get into a competition with Constantine’s henchmen. Loser gets a one way ticket to getting fucked without mercy.

One of the events (I forget which) had Tamamo Cat take up the camera because "Trust me, you don't want to see what Ushi looks like grinning while covered from head to toe in blood, woof!" I politely disagree and would like to request an image of exactly that.

smut, fionn/group - fionn very nicely takes care of his knights' stress. exactly as it says. i want fionn being a good nice slut for his knights of fianna, because it's hard work, you know, and it's good to keep morale up, and surely they deserve a reward for all they've done, and it's definitely not just an excuse to get some contact in after traveling for months and being away from a nice warm bed with a pretty girl in it for so long. diarmuid is an obvious must, but as for the other knights, you can do whatever you want! toss in whatever headcanons you might have about 'em. i'd especially love to see goll mac morna, with his contentious relationship with fionn and how that might make any physicality between them tense.

For the body horror prompts, maybe something with vortigern or the any of the tam lin with their “true forms” so to speak turned up a few degrees?

Arjuna weight gain, please... It feels like there's only like five people in the fandom who like the idea of him soft, and I'm two of them. Any pairing except Karna is fine, art or fic fills welcome, any size is good, just make him squishy <3

ANY

smut, noncon, Kindly asking for reader insert noncon. Ideally I need to get passed around Chaldean servants like a blunt but even just a single "servant of your choice makes good use of their inhuman strength to lock a poor unsuspecting reader in place for a quick fuck" works for me.

I want blorbos and sex toys. Not necessarily using them, if you want to write me Shiki shopping for toys or draw me Arcueid holding a magic wand like a lightsaber, that works for me (though I won't say no to lemon with toys in action, haha!) Any character, any fandom, any medium.

CROSSOVER

Bill Cipher is summoned to Chaldea. Not with a humanoid body or anything, still a triangle (bonus points if he has an Extra Class like Foreigner or Watcher, Berserker would also be acceptable). He is so confused and angry about all of this. Guda keeps essentially going “I can fix him” (not romantic, just in typical Guda fashion) in spite of his obvious warning signs. His powers are severely limited except for when he uses his Noble Phantasm, and he doesn’t know what a Noble Phantasm is so he thinks he’s been weakened forever (until he figures out how to use it ala Mash did) So many of the people here don’t know who he is, so they aren’t scared of him. At least a lot of the evil Heroic Spirits want to hang out with him.

This is mostly an art prompt (but writers are always welcome!): Crossover with Final Fantasy 14, please interpret your fave servant as if they were from that game! What class would they main, what race would they be? go wildddd

[detective-inspector-her]

@the-ghost-of-a-spirit

I've been thinking about my brief mention of Shapeshifter Valkyrie recently. I forgot about it soon after I posted the idea but a Gacha project I'm working on reminded me of it.

Some notable changes from canon and other interesting facts:

The Edgleys find out about magic a lot earlier because unlike Medium AU she can't exactly hide the fact that she changes her appearance.

She doesn't delve into magic straight away and is actually wary of it because of things she's overheard Desmond, Gordon and Fergus arguing over. She becomes half terrified of it when Fergus points out how easily she could die.

She uses her abilities to get to school on time mostly, transforming into a cat and using the walls to run to school. Her clothes and anything she's holding get sucked into the transformation and becomes patterns on whatever she's shifting into. So her cat form tends to be black with a brown patch on her back due to the colour of her backpack.

She can transform into people and is given a part of their personality, instincts and thought process. She can mimic magic but she doesn't know this because she avoids sorcerers.

Gordon is still her favourite uncle, and she still reads his books, but if he suggests anything that might lead to her becoming 'more dangerous' she backs away and doesn't see him for a few days.

Her favourite form is a cat because she can sneak into places and she can manipulate her dad into doing whatever she wants when she does it.

She can do halfway transformations, only having the ears or tail of a creature, growing gills for swimming or hardening her skin into scales without actually being a reptile. When she finally delves into magic, she learns how to shift her mindset into that of a certain animal or person depending on how much she knows about them but she doesn't learn how to do that for years.

She can create injuries on her body without actually hurting herself, which comes in handy when she needs to play dead or get bullies at school in trouble.

The problem now is that I don't know what I want to write first. Shapeshifter or Medium. They've both got their high points and I like both of them but writing them at the same time might result in them being too similar due to them both starting on book 1 so... Tell me which AU like more and that's what I'll work on once my time-travel/playing with fire fic is done.

Now there's an alternate route for AU. Valkyrie isn't aware she's a Shapeshifter until the fight with the vampire during The Vault break-in. She jumps from the roof and instinctively transforms to break her fall. From there she has her natural curiosity and I get to not write the entire first book for the... third/fourth time.

So yeah that's the basic layout of this :]