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startears0153 · 4 months

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☾ Seeing you cry in your sleep

How they react to finding you crying silently in your sleep.

☾ Characters: Argenti, Blade, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio

☾ Tags/Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, GN Reader, StellaronHunter!Reader in Blade's, Ratio (affectionately) calling you fool in his part

Might write a 2nd part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha (and maybe Sampo) in the future :)

Argenti

Upon entering your shared cottage, Argenti finds you sleeping on the chair by the window. They must’ve fallen asleep while admiring the scenery of the falling snow outside, Argenti thought with a fond smile.

For a moment, Argenti found himself unable to move, for his emerald colored eyes were transfixed upon the serene beauty of the scene before him. The falling snow, the white winter wonderland serving as the perfect backdrop to accentuate the beauty of your resting figure.

Still, he realized it probably wouldn’t do well if you were to fall sick from the cold. So, he quietly made his way through the room and draped a blanket over your figure.

That was when he noticed the presence of tears on the corners of your eyes.

For a while, Argenti thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until he saw a lone tear fall from your eye that he was finally hit by the fact that you were, indeed, crying in your sleep.

His heart ached upon the sight and he instinctively reached to cup your cheek; his thumb gently caressing the corner of your eye, wiping away the stream of tears that began to fall like tender snow.

After some deliberation on how to proceed, Argenti would kneel before your sleeping figure before carefully stirring you awake with a gentle squeeze to your hand and softly calling out your name.

“Good morning my dear,” He would greet you with a tender smile, though you could easily sense the twinge of sadness and melancholia lingering in his voice. “I apologize if this may sound unpleasant to you but … you were crying in your sleep. Is … Is everything alright?”

He would fret over you, but he would try to keep it to a minimum lest he were to accidentally do more harm than good. He was obviously worried about what ailed you, but again, what mattered most to him was your comfort.

Regardless of whether you choose to speak of the reason for your tears, Argenti would remain by your side, kneeling before you as he held your hand in his.

If he could, he would do anything in his power to vanquish the reason behind your tears. He never wants you to shed tears, neither in sleep or wake, ever again.

Blade

It was almost time for the opening act of Elio’s Script. Blade comes to searches for you in the meeting spot, and finds you asleep above one of the many wooden crates of the abandoned factory.

How carefree, Blade thought with a scoff. Even so, Blade’s heart blossoms with warmth, that very same warmth that is born from his affection and adoration for you and all your silly antics.

If he could, he would let you rest for longer and perhaps even join you in your restful slumber, resting your head on his shoulder. But alas, the Script takes priority and it was almost time to begin.

So he reaches to shake your shoulder … but then froze upon the sight of tears falling from your eyes.

Blade has never been one for tears. In a different life, perhaps, he would have been. But tears have no meaning for Blade. Crying does not provide one with salvation, no matter how much one cries, what was lost could never return.

And yet, the sight of your tears shook him to his core.

Blade didn’t know what to do. What could he do anyway? Reach for your face and wipe away your tears with his thumb? Lean towards you and kiss the corners of your eyes, all in hopes for your tears to stop cascading from your eyes? How ridiculous. As though that would solve any of your problems.

So, he does what he is supposed to. Grab your shoulder and gently shake you awake.

“Wake up. It’s almost time to begin.” He says brusquely, already turning around for his back to face you. “Wipe your tears. Don’t let the enemy see even a single hint of weakness.”

You would be shocked upon realizing you were crying in your sleep and hurriedly wiped away the remains of your tears. Not soon after, you join him by the ledge of the building, watching over the city with puffy eyes. Blade would steal a glance at you and then he would say,

“Do not be hasty. I am with you.”

You didn’t need to try hard to know that he wasn’t just talking about the battle ahead.

Dan Heng

The hour was late when Den Heng jolted awake from his sleep. He dreamt of a vague memory of his past incarnation and saw a nightmare where his friends were swept away by the waves; of you disappearing in the dark sea of clouds.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Dan Heng takes a moment to recompose himself before shifting to rest on his side, thus meeting the familiar sight of your back. They’re here, Dan Heng thought to himself, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. It’s all just a dream.

Not wanting to wake you, Dan Heng simply stares at your back. The steadiness of your breathing, a reminder that you are alive. Gingerly, Dan Heng reaches to subtly trace soothing lines on your back. Truth be told, it was probably more soothing for him than you.

Then suddenly, there was a slight change in the pattern of your breathing. More feeble and erratic. Concerned that he might have woken you up, Dan Heng pushed himself up to check on your condition …

… Only to find you crying in your sleep.

Upon the sight of your tears, falling so steadily onto the fabric of your already damp pillow, Dan Heng’s breath hitches. He shakes your shoulders, calling your name again and again until your eyes open and meet his pairs of jaded blue.

“You’re crying.” He said bluntly, his brows furrowed as a tell-tale sign of his bleeding concern for you. “What? No, I’m fine. Yes, I woke up because of a nightmare but I’m more concerned for you.”

The two of you would both end up sitting on the bed, both fretting over each other’s condition. You asked Dan Heng about his nightmare and he would reply that it was the usual. He asked you about your tears, and you replied you didn’t even know you were crying until Dan Heng pointed it out.

In the end, the both of you would end up embracing each other tightly, providing both comfort and strength to one another. You both wind up laying on the bed in each other’s arms.

Dan Heng would stay awake for a while after you’ve fallen asleep, gazing at your resting figure in hopes that he would never have to see you cry in your sleep once more.

Dr. Ratio

After a long day full of shameful displays of stupidity from the people around him, Dr. Veritas Ratio was done for the day and is free to visit his beloved. I cannot wait to see them, Ratio thought as he made large strides towards your office. It has been far too long since I’ve had an intellectually stimulating conversation!

He thinks of all the topics he could talk with you, ranging from the most mundane things such as how each other’s days went and the more complex like the discourse regarding a recent hot theory.

Imagine his disappointment when he enters your office and finds you dead asleep on your desk.

Frowning, Ratio rationalizes that you were probably just as exhausted as he was and that there were plenty of chances for conversation when the two of you have rested up. Still. He was disappointed.

He walked towards your desk and took a moment to observe your resting figure. You were sleeping above your paper reports. Now that’s a lark. But then, he noticed something else.

Your papers were soaked, all from the tears that were still cascading from your eyes.

Upon the sight of your tears, Ratio’s heart seemingly ceased to beat. There was shock, confusion, concern and all these strong emotions that meld with one another. In a rare moment of panic, Ratio shook you awake, forcing you away from your stained papers.

“You fool, just what do you think you’re doing?!” He shouts, worry bleeding through his tone. “Don’t ‘What the hell, Veritas’ me! You’re the one crying on your reports and making them unreadable!”

You would be confused until you realize that you were crying in your sleep. You touched the lingering wetness on your cheeks and laughed feebly. It was probably the pent up stress, you offered weakly, annoying Ratio once more.

You expect a lecture, but unexpectedly, Ratio places hand behind your head, brings you to rest against his broad shoulder.

“You are a fool for ruining those reports. If you must cry … cry on my shoulder instead.”

It was a silly attempt at cheering you up, but you appreciated it all the same.

Hehe this was a super fun prompt to write! Might write a second part with Gepard, Jing Yuan, Welt and Luocha when I feel the inspiration hitting me 👀

Also still semi-working on banners ... sigh, lets hope I find a good theme soon enough.

Thank you for reading 💖

#honkai: star rail #hsr x reader #argenti x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #dr. ratio x reader #ratio x reader #angst #hurt/comfort #hsr imagines #hsr headcanons #StarTearsWrites

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elodieunderglass · 1 year

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the first chapter of Moby Dick rewritten in tiresome modern idiom

CHAPTER 1. Loomings.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago - it's none of your business how many - being mostly broke, and bored with the land part of the world, I thought I would sail around a little and look at the watery part of the world. I'm probably the most mentally healthy person you know. Whenever I feel my face getting grim; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself accidentally reading the ads in the window of funeral homes, and following funeral processions through traffic; and especially when I'm hangry, and only my extremely strong moral principles stop me from deliberately going out in public and methodically slapping people's earbuds out - then I know it's high time to get to sea, ASAP. This is my substitute for getting in fights. I'm too mentally healthy to kill myself; I quietly and considerately put myself on a ship and sail myself away instead. There is nothing surprising in this. Everyone feels exactly the same way, and if they don't, they're lying.

You think I'm lying? Exhibit A: a city. Go to your local coastal city. Everyone is looking at the water. They drive over from other neighborhoods just to come to the water. They make a day of it. They're not doing anything, they're just staring at the ocean. Why? Is it because they all work office jobs? No! Here come more of them! They cram themselves up to the edge of the water and stare at it. WHAT DO THEY WANT? WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING AT. Perhaps the ships themselves all packed together, each one with several compasses on it, creates some kind of critical mass - all of the small compass-magnets on all the ships in the harbor combining into one really big magnetic field - and the people get sucked into the field and trapped there. That's science.

Exhibit 2: the countryside with lakes in it. Every path you follow in the countryside brings you to some water, such as a stream. There is magic in it. If you take your standard fool with ADHD dissociating in the middle of a supermarket and put them outside and give them a shove, they'll automatically lead you to water (if there is any nearby) (try it). Another good experiment to try is to get lost in the great American desert in a caravan supplied with a metaphysical professor! Try it in the great American desert at home!

Yes, as everyone knows, meditation and water are a match made in heaven. Married forever. That's science.

Here's an artist who wants to paint you the dreamiest, most enchanting landscape. What does he put in it? Trees, meadow, cows, a cottage with smoke coming from the chimney, obviously. He will probably put a path in it and make lots of triangular mountains in rows and have them be different shades of blue (naturally.) But there's gotta be a stream in it. Go visit the prairies in June, and wade for forty miles through knee-deep through tiger lilies. What's missing from this picture? Water!

If Niagara Falls was made of sand instead of water, would you travel your thousand miles to see it? Why would a guy given a handful of cash have trouble deciding whether to buy a coat (which he needed) or go to the beach? Why are all the best, healthiest, sexiest and most mentally healthy people obsessed with the sea? (You get me.) When you were first on a boat, did you not succumb to VIBES? Consider ancient Persia. Consider ancient Greece. They understood about vibes, and also gods.

SURELY ALL OF THIS IS NOT WITHOUT MEANING.

And still deeper the meaning of that story of Narcissus, who because he could not grasp the tormenting, mild image he saw in the fountain, plunged into it and was drowned. But that same image, we ourselves see in all rivers and oceans. It is the image of the ungraspable phantom of life; and this is the key to it all! You get me! You understand it now.

Now, when I say that I am in the habit of going to sea whenever I get weird, don't you dare imply that I buy a ticket and get on a boat. I have never had money in my life. How dare you. Anyway I don't go as a passenger - that's bougie, and something boring people do. Passengers never have a good time. And although my C.V. is incredible - I go to sea SO MUCH, you guys, I have lots of experience - I don't go as a boss, or a cook. That sounds like far too much work. Hard work. Disgusting, respectable, bougie, and far too responsible. I can literally only look after myself. Do not ask me to look after ships or shit. In fact, I have only a vague idea of what a ship is. There's so many different kinds of ships - don't get me started and DO NOT GET INVOLVED. Also, I'm allergic to glory.

It's kind of attractive to go as a cook. I mean, I'm allergic to glory and there's some glory attached to the position of the ship's cook, but, like, you're not management-track and so it's still credible. But I don't really want to cook (say) roast chicken. I really fucking love to eat roast chicken. I'm one of the best at doing it actually. I really appreciate when people go out of their way to butter, season, baste and roast a chicken for me. Picture a roast chicken and I am Looking Respectfully at it. Maybe something more, maybe I'm worshipping it. Don't make this weird. If you want to get weird about my relationship with roasted chicken, why aren't you getting weird about the ancient Egyptians? They ate roasted hippos (look it up) and the pyramids were basically pizza ovens. So it's pretty hypocritical to think that I'm being weird about roasted chicken when I've never made mummies out of chickens or built a religious pizza oven dedicated to honoring them: check and mate, haters.

Anyway - I like to go to sea as a manual laborer. A simple sailor. Salt of the earth… er… sea. Yeah, true: as a job it sucks. They make you jump around, order you around, treat you like shit. They expect you to jump around the boat like a grasshopper. And yes, at first, this sucks. It's degrading, especially if you come from a middle-class family. Worse, it's awful if you've already had some kind of professional job before signing on to be the dirt on the boss's boots - like, if you went to college and worked as a teacher and actually got kids to pay attention to you, really feeling this connection to work/teaching/identity or some shit, and now you are just literally the scum on this captain's boots, in the lowest possible job in the world. It hurts! It hurts your dignity. But the hurt, and also the dignity, both wear off in time.

So what if some old bastard sea captain orders me - ME! - to get a broom and sweep down the decks? What does that indignity amount to, compared to the shit in the Bible, compared to the shit in the news, compared to the shit everyone else has to take. Do you think the archangel Gabriel thinks anything the less of me, because I promptly and respectfully obey that old hunks in that particular instance? Who ain’t a slave? Tell me that. We're all just serfs under capitalism, right, so why not just be honest about it: I prefer the honesty. Anyway, however the old sea captains may order me about - slapping and punching of course - I have the satisfaction of knowing that it's the same experience everyone else on Earth has, but more honest. Everyone else in the world is being served the exact same way. Either in a physical or a metaphysical way - sometimes people get the shit beaten out of them in person, sometimes online, sometimes emotionally, it happens to you in EVERY JOB, you sign on to get pushed around and slapped in the teeth: so the point is that when you're a sailor, it's a clean and honest slap. All the workers of the world share the same universal slap to the face that gets passed round, one slap passed all 'round the chain, like paying it forward, but it's a slap; and we should all accept this Universal Slap as the price of living, and then offer each other healing back massages, brother to brother, and slap each other and then kissed the places we slapped, and be happy.

I could examine that but I'm not going to.

Anyway: I always go to sea as a sailor. I've said that already. You're welcome. BUT THE POINT IS, they pay you. If you're a passenger, they don't pay you, at least, not that I've ever heard of [citation needed] (do they pay passengers?? Is there a job I can get where I can be a passenger and get paid?? Look this up.) Yeah so passengers have to pay. And there is all the difference in the world between paying and being paid. The act of paying is perhaps the most uncomfortable infliction that the two orchard thieves entailed upon us. (That's Adam and Eve. You get it.) But BEING PAID. GETTING PAID IS THE BEST. NOTHING COMPARES TO GETTING PAID. EVERYONE LOVES THAT SHIT. Which is surprising, since we also apparently believe that money is the root of all evil, and isn't there something in the bible about "no rich people can get into heaven," right? And yet it's universal, literally everyone loves payday. Ah! How cheerfully we send ourselves to hell.

Finally, I always go to sea as a sailor (I've said this already) because it's FRESH AIR AND EXERCISE. Okay so think about ships. Normally, bosses stand on the "bridge" thing, and because we're sailing a boat, the nose is going into the wind and the butt part of the boat is at the back. That's how wind works. But if you think about it, winds usually go in one direction more than other directions (unless the men have been eating beans and farting: it's Pythagoras, look it up) SO if you're a boss standing on the boss-deck, the wind is blowing FROM the sailors TOWARDS you, and YOU ARE ACTUALLY BREATHING THE AIR THAT SAILORS ALREADY BREATHED. The boss THINKS he breathes it first, but he doesn't. He gets the air at the BACK of the boat and sailors get the air at the FRONT. So it's better to be at the front of the boat (sailor) for health reasons. This is a metaphor for life and work, etc.

But I have smelled the sea lots of times as a paid sailor and WHY I should decide to go on a whaling expedition - ok so you know how there's an invisible police officer of the Fates who has me under constant surveillance, who secretly dogs me, and influences me in some unaccountable way? YOU get me. You know him. "The poor FBI agent tasked with reading my search engine history" YOU GET ME. Anyway, "Ishmael, why, after having a perfectly well-reasoned, and very smart of you, part-time job as a spontaneous random sailor, did you decide to escalate that to joining a WHALING EXPEDITION, which is worse in every way?" Well, ask my fucking secret FBI agent, he can answer better than anyone else. Including me. You get me. Also, obviously, this was predestined, part of the Universe's Grand Programme for its talent show, which was all scheduled way before our time. The concept of sending me on the whaling voyage comes in as a kind of interlude or solo between the main performances of the Universe's great talent show. I bet it was advertised llike,

"PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF THE UNITED STATES EMBROILED IN ONGOING LEGAL DISPUTE.

Whaling voyage by some guy called Ishmael.

BLOODY BATTLE IN AFGHANISTAN."

Like a commercial break in between the big acts. A filler episode. Lightens the load for everyone else. Though I can't explain why the stage managers - the Fates - chose such a shitty role for me, a WHALING VOYAGE of all things, when it feels like others were given magnificent parts in high tragedies, and short and easy parts in genteel comedies, and jolly parts in farces - it seems a little unreasonable at first. Why doth Ishmael get shat upon, etc. But then I think about all the circumstances, the plot points and motivations that were cunningly presented to me under various disguises - FBI agents, bouts of random hanger, gay awakenings, you get me - and you can see that actually, I was set up. And worse, between them all, these Fates and Circumstances conspired to make me believe it was all my own choice and good judgment. Is Free Will an illusion? Are my decisions bad? We will NEVER know because I, Ishmael, am just a little guy that the Universe plays head games with.

One of the ways the Universe tricked me into starring in this performance and then mocking me for it was the overwhelming idea of the great whale himself (whaling expeditions usually contain whales.) Such a portentous and mysterious monster roused all my curiosity. Then of course, if you have a whale, you have the wild and distant seas where the whale rolls around with his body-the-size-of-an-island; the dangers and nameless perils of the whale; whales are also found in interesting places I haven't seen; this all tipped me over the edge. Maybe normal people could've resisted, but I am tormented with an everlasting itch for obscurity. I hate everyone else's oceans. I want the forbidden seas.

You know The Horrors? Of course you do. You might be surprised that I, the most mentally healthy person you've ever met, a person who is self-aware enough to go to sea when they're at their fucking limits, a guy who likes fresh air and manual labor and normal things, is familiar with The Horrors. Well, you'd be surprised. I know what's good, I'm an extrovert. But I'm still quick to perceive The Horrors. And how I deal with the horrors is a very extroverted thing: I'm social with them, if they'll let me. It's smart to be on good terms with The Horrors. You should always be on good terms with your permanent neighbors. That's how extroverts deal with The Horrors, and I recommend it.

I think that's enough explanation for why I welcomed the whaling voyage. The great flood-gates of the wonder-world swung open, and in the wild figments of imagination that pushed me into doing it, the whales came marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. They marched into my innermost soul in endless processions and occupied it, you see, I was quite helpless under this occupation - I consented to the haunting and the whales marched in to haunt me - and amidst them all was one grand shrouded white phantom, like a snowy mountain in the air.

You get it.

You know how it is, with whales.

(read the actual first chapter of Moby Dick here: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2701/2701-h/2701-h.htm)

#mody bick

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birdietrait · 10 months

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✿ The Home Sweet Home Legacy Challenge ✿

Info ✿

view on google docs

Use the tag #HSHLegacy so I can see your posts!!

If there are any rules that you don’t vibe with, just skip over them!

Some of the rules are centered around gameplay and some are more story-based!

You don’t have to complete aspirations or max out careers if you don’t want to, unless it’s otherwise specified in the generation’s rules!

Play with any lifespan you prefer.

Read one generation ahead to get all of the information you need!

Mods are allowed and encouraged; especially ones that make the game more realistic. I’ve linked a couple mods in some generations that can add to the gameplay!

If you have the more traits in cas mod, pick whatever extra traits you think would fit your sim!

Rules for the generations under the cut ✿

GENERATION ONE ✿

You were raised in the city by strict parents who pushed you to be the best student in school. Despite your ambitious nature you hated the fact that you had no autonomy or free time. When you became a young adult you packed up your belongings, your pet and your limited funds and you moved to the countryside. Your cottage is rundown and outdated…it’s going to take a lot of work (and money) to make it a home. You quickly realize you might not actually be cut out for this life, but you are too stubborn and proud to give up and move back in with your parents.

Traits: Squeamish, Ambitious, High Maintenance

Aspiration: Country Caretaker OR Freelance Botanist

Career: Start with a part time job and/or odd jobs until your sim ages up into an adult, then settle into a full time job of your choice. To make additional money, you can also sell harvestables from your garden or your farm animals (if you want to go down that route!)

Starting Out: Start in Henford-on-Bagley with your pet in a small, rundown cottage with 2-3 bedrooms. You can use money cheats at this point, but remember: small rundown cottage…don’t use those extra funds for nice appliances!! When your house is done, set your funds to 450.

Rules:

Your lot must have the ‘simple living’ lot trait

Reach level 5 in: Handiness, Cooking and Gardening

Befriend a few locals

Meet and fall in love with an outdoorsy sim with a large tight knit family

Spend every holiday with your partner’s family, and have a solid relationship with most (if not all) of them

Have 2 kids

Take a vacation for every sim’s birthday (if you can’t afford it, throw a birthday party on a public lot instead)

Renovate the cottage over time (get new appliances, wallpaper/flooring, etc.)

Optional Rules:

Play with the ‘off the grid’ lot trait

Max out Handiness, Cooking and/or Gardening

Make the sim’s parents and make them have a negative relationship

GENERATION TWO ✿

You grew up in a small, quiet town. After hearing about your parent’s childhood in the city, you were inspired to give it a try. You say goodbye to your loving family and set out for San Myshuno. You find an apartment and a part time job, then you get a few roommates to help with the bills. When you are faced with an accidental pregnancy, your roommates rally in support.

Traits: Loyal, Creative, Slob

Aspiration: City Native OR Painter Extraordinaire

Career: Max out the Retail part time job before quitting and selling paintings full time

Starting Out: Move into an apartment in San Myshuno with 2-3 roommates (you can use the roommate feature but I recommend actually having them in the household!)

Rules:

Max the painting skill

Have Game Night, or something similar, once a week with your roomies

Have an accidental pregnancy after a one night stand (if your sim can’t become pregnant and the other sim can, move the baby into your household when they’re born!)

Raise your kid as a single parent (with the help of your roomies)

Once your child becomes a teen, move out into your own place (it could be in San Myshuno or another world)

Marry as an elder

Optional Rules:

As an elder, marry the sim you had a one night stand with (that ultimately resulted in the birth of your child)

Become famous (because of your paintings)

GENERATION THREE ✿

Just as the expression goes, it took a village to raise you. You were a wild, rebellious child with a love for athletics. Even though you were surrounded by love as a kid (not just from your biological family, but from your parent’s roommates) you always wanted to have siblings. You end up marrying one of your childhood best friends and you settle down in a quiet neighborhood.

Traits: Family Oriented, Hot Headed, Athletic

Aspiration: Big Happy Family

Career: Athletic

Starting Out: Move into a house in a world of your choice with your partner.

Rules:

Max the parenting skill and the athletic skill

Have 4 children

Reach the summit of Mt. Komorebi at some point in your life

Be a hands-on parent: play with your kids, build them a treehouse, throw birthday parties, be as involved as possible in their lives

Go through rough patches with your spouse due to your anger issues

Eventually decide to get a divorce after trying to make it work (or if you have RPO, you can opt for separation instead)

You and your ex-spouse must live on the same lot and continue to raise your kids together

Sleep in your workout shed in the backyard

Optional Rules:

Remarry your ex-spouse

Reach level 5 of the handiness skill

GENERATION FOUR ✿

Although you and your siblings were loved by your parents, the living situation after their divorce was not ideal. Because of that, you vowed to never get married. You head off to university immediately after graduation and start on your path toward success.

Traits: Ambitious, Noncommittal, Genius

Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy OR Academic

Career: Business OR Politics

Starting Out: Enroll in University and move into a dorm

Rules:

Max the research and debate skill, and the logic skill

Reach the top of your career

Get the best possible grades throughout your life

Have at least two romantic relationships at all times…you are never faithful to one sim

Have two kids with two different partners

(Hesitantly) become official with one of your flings and move in together

When your partner proposes, reject them and have them move out

Go on a post-breakup trip with your kids to Sulani

Rarely discipline your children. In fact, rarely interact with them

Optional Rules:

Never retire

Move at least three times

GENERATION FIVE ✿

Growing up, your parent was pretty distant and you never had a great relationship with them. They were always working, talking about work, or spending time with their significant others. One of your favorite memories of your childhood was your trip to Sulani. You and your sibling decide to move out together and live there permanently. It’s rough living in a new place with limited funds, but the two of you have some creative solutions.

Traits: Loyal, Bro, Kleptomaniac

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Criminal

Starting Out: Move into a small house in Sulani with your sibling.

Rules:

Max the charisma skill

Reach the top of your career

Earn money from the criminal career, stealing and pickpocketing

Always maintain a close relationship with your sibling (who can also follow in your criminal footsteps, or work part time / odd jobs instead)

Throw parties regularly and pickpocket the whole time

Have a rivalry with another criminal that turns into love at some point

Your sibling eventually moves out…and your partner moves in!

Have one child

Have a super tacky over the top wedding

Optional Rules:

Max the mischief skill

(If you have this mod, you can pickpocket when your sim is younger! If you have Basemental you can also become a dealer to make money. If you have this mod, I recommend using the enemies to lovers interactions!)

And that’s all for now! I’m breaking this up into two parts, so the next five generations will be coming sometime (fairly) soon!

#ts4 #ts4 simblr #simblr #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #HSHLegacy #if you notice anything that doesnt make sense just lmk JKKJD #sorry it's kind of a lot to read lol <3 #ALSO! if you have any questions just send me an ask !!! <3

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swirlingthings · 6 months

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so… i accidentally wrote an entire scene based off an idea i posted on here about a month ago. it brought itself into existence honestly, i’m still not sure how it happened. never written anything like this before. it’s called ‘alien thing’. see if you can work it out before aziraphale does. enjoy :)

And perhaps, after a while, the team at the Saddlescombe and Poynings Observer newspaper office would be alarmed to discover that the crossword they had devised for today’s edition had mysteriously been replaced by one that nobody recalled sending to the printing press, or indeed seeing before at all. And in a cottage not too far away, Aziraphale would settle down into the sofa with the paper like he always did at this time of the afternoon; his slice of cake (Victoria Sponge today - “you can’t go wrong with a classic like that”, he’d told Crowley in the supermarket), his mug of tea and an HB pencil ready for him on the side table. And Crowley, on the sofa next to him holding a small book which had been miracled into existence the moment Aziraphale had gotten up to fetch the newspaper, would be so intent on doing everything possible to not look in the angel’s direction that he’d stare too hard at the potted plant across the room and cause it to wilt.

“How odd.” Aziraphale says, ruffling the page slightly as if he were testing to see if moving it would somehow change the way it was printed.

“What?” Crowley says, calmly. He was incredibly calm when he said this, calmly.

“This crossword.” Aziraphale replies, brow furrowing. “I think… look, look at this.”

Aziraphale shuffles across to the middle of the sofa, holding his arm out in front of Crowley so that he could see the newspaper clearly.

“Look. Here.” Aziraphale points with his pencil. “5 Down, six letters: ‘Luminescent dust between star systems’. I think it’s NEBULA.”

“Sounds plausible.” says Crowley, his eyes not moving away from the paper.

“Well, that’s not all. NEBULA gives us the ‘B’ for 12 Across, eight letters: ‘Parisian fortress’, which must be BASTILLE.” The pencil moves down and waves around a clue, then shoots back up again. “And the ‘E’ from that gives us SERPENT for 10 Down! Isn’t that funny?” Aziraphale says brightly. He looks up and beams at Crowley, who is still staring directly at the paper.

“Why’s that funny?”

“Well…” says the angel, his smile turning peaceful. “I don’t know. It just made me think of you, I suppose. What with your being a serpent in Eden, and rescuing me from the Bastille. And the nebulas, from Before…” Aziraphale laughs softly and settles back on his side of the sofa. “I don’t know. I’m being silly. I just thought it was funny.” he says, running a hand through his hair and picking up his mug.

And perhaps the minutes would pass, and Aziraphale would think between sips of tea and scribbles of pencil that there really was something rather odd about this crossword, wasn’t there? 17 Down, eight letters: ‘Machine run by rotating vanes’. WINDMILL. That was the name of the theatre in Soho where he had performed his magic show. Crowley had almost shot him. They’d had wine afterwards, in the bookshop. 2 Across, seven letters: ‘Remarkable and unbelievable occurrence’. That had to be MIRACLE. 21 Across, five letters: ‘Japanese vinegared rice dish’. SUSHI. His favourite.

And Crowley would sit excruciatingly still, in absolute silence, and make no attempt to actually read the book he was holding open in his lap. He would be far too busy trying to look cool.

“Crowley…” Aziraphale looks up at him, after a while, another smile creeping across his face. “26 Across is INEFFABLE.”

“Oh? You stuck?” Crowley says, stretching out his legs and keeping his gaze fixed on a page of the book. Wait… was he holding it upside down?

“What?”

“Well, if it’s ineffable you can’t describe it in words, can you? So you don’t have the answer?” Crowley slithers down the sofa cushion and holds the book in front of his face. He’s a very busy demon with important things to be busy with. “Finding the word’s the whole point of a crossword. You must be stuck.”

“No, I mean the answer is INEFFABLE, Crowley.” Aziraphale’s smile spreads wider. “You know full well what I mean!” he said, nudging him sharply with his feet. Another “Oh?” emanates from somewhere behind the book, which Aziraphale grabs and puts to one side.

“What on Earth have you done?” he laughs, his eyes first on Crowley then returning to the paper. “14 Down: ‘A small settlement without a church’... HAMLET! Oh Crowley, the play!” he says, jotting it down with the pencil.

Crowley smiles too. “How are you doing on the letters?”

“Yes, it’s six letters, HAMLET.”

“No, I mean the letters in bold. In the boxes. For the final bit.”

Aziraphale looks back at the paper, and notices that around a few of the letters he had already pencilled in, the margins of the boxes were heavier than the rest.

“It’s a puzzle thing. What’s it called… an anagram.” Crowley continues, leaning over on one arm and turning to face him. “Look at the letters in bold and it makes something else.”

Aziraphale gasps excitedly, and starts to note down the emphasised letters in a patch of empty space towards the bottom of the page. The ‘A’ from BASTILLE, the ‘E’ from SERPENT, the ‘L’ from NEBULA…

“Crowley…” he says smugly, and proudly folds the paper to his chest to indicate he is finished with it. “Is it AZIRAPHALE?”

“Don’t just guess. Work it out.” Crowley says gently. Aziraphale’s pencil resumes its scratching against the paper. He wonders how he ever lived in his flat in Mayfair, void of this softness and this warmth and this angel. They’ve been in the cottage now for a good few years. It’s all the things he loved about Aziraphale’s bookshop, with the added bonus of never worrying if he’s overstayed his welcome. It’s theirs, together, completely. He’s forgotten he was ever holding a book, let alone supposed to be busy doing something else, like trying to look cool.

“Oh, no, there’s the N from WINDMILL.” Aziraphale mutters, leaning forward to write on the paper which is now resting neatly on his knees. “Unless… I was wrong about that one?”

“Don’t look at me, I’m saying nothing.”

“No, I’m not wrong. Hold on.”

Crowley sits up a bit more, putting his elbow on the back of the sofa cushion and leaning the side of his head against his hand. He listened to Aziraphale continuing on - “I’ve got ALIEN. Hmm, wait…” - while he curled up his legs underneath himself. His nerves had eased slightly (Aziraphale’s smile had that effect on him) but had not dissipated.

“INHALE? No, no, there’s two ‘I’s. Oh, I’m still missing some!” Aziraphale says. There was another comfortable pause while he scanned the remaining clues.

“Right. 6 Across must be… PEAR. I love pears. That one doesn’t get us any further with the anagram, though.” Aziraphale says, looking over at Crowley as if he were learning this for the first time and might be disappointed by the news. As if he hadn’t snuck downstairs in the middle of the night on three separate occasions last week to draft every detail in a notebook which promptly ceased to exist once he’d finalised his plan. He’d sent off the miracle at one in the morning.

“16 Across, ten letters: ‘Destruction of civilisation’. Well, that’s rather dramatic.” Aziraphale looks up, a tad disapprovingly. “APOCALYPSE? No, that doesn’t fit with HALO - the penultimate letter must... oh, ARMAGEDDON! Of course. Wonderful! That gives us a second ‘N’.” he says triumphantly.

“Aren’t you clever.” Crowley says, which earns him another sharp nudge in the thigh.

“And then we have the ‘G’ from GARDEN, which gives us… the ‘T’, from BENTLEY. Is it definitely not ALIEN, then? I’ve got ALIEN THING.”

“No, angel, it’s not ALIEN THING. Stop guessing. You’re still missing some, look at it carefully.”

There’s another patch of silence. Crowley shifts uncomfortably on the cushion, unfurling his legs and stretching them out over the edge of the sofa again. He scratches the back of his head and resumes staring at the now fully wilted plant opposite him. His nerves are back. Not long to go now. Aziraphale’s clever, really clever, and he does one of these things every aftern-

As if on cue, the angel suddenly sits bolt upright.

The silence hangs in the air. Questions like ‘Why did I think this was a good idea?’ and ‘How am I going to pretend this never happened?’ start to creep into Crowley’s brain. His face feels hot.

“Oh, Crowley…” Aziraphale says, with almost palpable softness. Crowley dares to glance over: Aziraphale’s holding the paper with both hands and looking down at it, eyes beginning to water.

“Crowley…” he says again, frantically scanning every inch of the paper. He wants to be sure he’s right before he says anything. Crowley knows he will be, and briefly considers whether he could get away with stopping time, but it’s too late for that now.

“It’s NIGHTINGALES.”

Aziraphale looks up at him.

“Is it?” Crowley says, in a tone which he hoped sounded like he actually was learning this for the first time.

“Oh Crowley!”

He suddenly finds himself pressed against various layers of linen and wool.

“You sweetheart!” Aziraphale squeals, as he pulls him up from the sofa cushion and into the hug.

Crowley’s growl is muffled slightly by Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I’m not sweet, I-” Whatever he tried to say next would surely be drowned out by Aziraphale’s laughter anyway, so he lets it go.

“You’re so clever.” Azirpahale says, settling himself directly beside Crowley and reaching for the paper, which he had flung to the floor when he’d moved. He looks over it again. “It must have taken forever, to work out all of that.”

“Nah. It was nothing, angel.”

Aziraphale smiles at the paper. “Well, I am thoroughly impressed. I…” He turns to look Crowley in the eyes. “I should have worked it out sooner than that. I didn’t… I didn’t realise that’s what you were trying to say. That that was the point of it, I mean.”

“Don’t worry. I knew you’d get them all.”

“That was very romantic of you, you know. To do all of that and have it be about us.”

“Shut up.”

“Well, it was.” Aziraphale smugly folds the paper in half. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. Make my day.”

He gets a kiss on the cheek for that.

“Gosh, I expect the rest of my tea has gone a bit cold now.” Aziraphale says, without any trace of complaint. He wiggles back over to his side of the sofa and has a forkful of cake. “Well, that was exciting. I didn’t know they let people submit their own crosswords.”

There was a pause.

“Crowley.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“Oh Crowley no, that’s awful. You should have asked for their permission.”

“Don’t worry.” He smiles at Aziraphale. “They won’t notice.”

the end :))

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #good omens story #well… it’s a fic really isn’t it #good omens fic

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hanafubukki · 4 months

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*breaks your door with an axe in the shape of bat and peeks inside* hey.

So! I got hungry for soft Lilia and baby silver with a Yuu that accidentally space time traveled in the wrong direction for a couple of days.

And for a couple of days they help take care of a baby silver, with a moody malleus showing up from time to time in the span of the weekend Yuu stayed.

So cottage core family moments! From preparing Silvers milk/food to telling certain dragon to stop staring from outside with a threating look so Yuu doesn’t put anything sus in the food.

“Malleus, please, stop! If you want, you can come in and help with the cooking”

“Help? How bold of you human, asking the prince that so humbly allows you to exist in this land, to help you with a task reserved to who are my servants,”

“Shame, I was going to ask you to be my taste tester for the ice cream. Guess I can ask Lilia,”

“But I am kind and I will assist you in your cooking endeavors!”

Yuu’s food is too good to pass for MalMal, as Yuu knows exactly what to put that he likes whenever he comes over! Which is almost every day.

He may be a prince, but no one is mighty enough to not lick the cake batter from the bowl.

Hello Anonie 🌺🌻💚

With all of you breaking down my door, I think I’m going to be cold this rainy winter 🤣🤣

…do you think Diasomnia will let me stay with them? 😆💞 also, can I have that axe I want to use it on the senate 🤣 (at least you didn’t go “here’s Johnny!”)

You are speaking my love language because yes!! Time travel shenanigans my love!!

Malleus adores Silver. He would see you and remember the stories he heard about human and would be extra protective. Lilia says it’s fine. You have the blessing of the night fae on you. Fae can tell when people lie and you have spoken nothing but the truth.

Haven’t given them details of the future, but he can’t blame you for being precautious.

Even so, Malleus keeps his guard up until, well, you bribe him.

You had seen all sides of Malleus Draconia from your time at NRC, that whole dream fiasco, and even beyond that.

But this side? The very protective and yet slightly rebellious side? Was new to you. You kind of enjoyed this more expressive Malleus.

You definitely enjoyed taking care of baby Silver. He was beyond precious and such a happy baby.

You can see why Lilia loves his sons so much. Both of them are adorable.

A part of you wanted to stay, wanted to enjoy this tranquility.

But no, you couldn’t.

You had so much waiting for you in the future.

These little ones will grow into fine men.

A lover who you adore with your whole heart.

You couldn’t wait until you returned to your time, so you can tease them.

“I see Malleus warmed up to you.”

“Not with any help from you.”

Lilia laughed, “I knew you could handle it.”

“Father’s intuition?”

“A bit of that and something else.”

With the way Lilia eyed the chain around your neck, you knew he had an idea.

The chain held your wedding ring.

Your husband always was a cheeky and smart one even during the NRC days, baring a certain event that is.

Smart bat dad.

You opened your eyes to fluttering kisses all over your face.

“Welcome back, Precious.”

You pulled Lilia down into a kiss.

“I’m back.”

☺️🌺🌻 Surprise! They are married and you were from a further future beyond nrc time.

#Hana queues #answered #anonie ask #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twst silver #lilia vanrouge x reader #twst lilia vanrouge x reader #twst x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x you #lilia vanrouge x you #twst imagines

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