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oasisspringstownie · 3 years

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FAME: A Legacy Challenge

Sul sul simmers!

Like many of you, one of my favorite things to do in The Sims is play Legacy Challenges. They lead you to explore new aspects of gameplay, give you new imaginative ideas, and facilitate storytelling. So, a couple of nights ago I got the idea to create a new kind of legacy challenge revolving around different aspects of fame.

The goal isn’t exactly to become the most famous using said career/ skill, but to play around with different elements of the fame system in the game. You by no means need all the packs to play through this legacy. While the experience would be more complete and you will be missing careers and skills and stuff you can obviously adapt it to your need. Also, you are more than welcomed to use mods to enrich your gameplay. I myself can’t play without mods and look forward to see what kind of chaos mods can add to this challenge.

So without further a do below are the 10 generations I concocted like a fever dream at 2 am on a Saturday evening:

Gen 1: A Shaky Foundation

Traits: Cheerful, Ambitious, Self-Absorbed

Career: Acting, Style Influencer (Trendsetter Branch)

You move to a new city full of hopes and dreams. You initially pursue your dream of becoming an actor. However, your career is cut short by the unexpected arrival of your first child. You retreat from the spotlight in order to raise your baby and put all of your energy into making sure they have the best future possible. The rest of the time you spend either working or trying to unwind from your demanding life. What will fate bring you and your descendants?

Goals:

Move into an empty lot with 1600 simoleons for the bare minimum.

Start in the Acting Career, but abandon it for the Style Influencer career once your first child is born. Remain in the Style Influencer Career and eventually choose the Trendsetter Branch.

Max out the Style Influencer Career.

Reach level 10 of the Parenting and Wellness Skills.

Be close friends with all of your children and make sure they each age up with at least 2 positive character attributes.

Gen 2: Get Your Head in the Game

Traits: Active, Music Lover, Outgoing

Career: Athlete, Entertainment (Musician Branch)

Your parent might have seemed very overbearing at the time, but they instilled a work ethic in you like no other. Your entire life you were split between your two passions: basketball and singing. Okay, fine, you're Troy Bolton. After succeeding in the sports world you still find yourself feeling somewhat unfulfilled. You enter the entertainment career later on in life to live out your dreams. Will this be the start of something new?

Goals:

Max out the Athlete Career and then switch to the Entertainment Career (Musician Branch).

Max out the Fitness and Singing Skills.

Be in the drama club in high school.

Gen 3: Going for the Stars

Traits: Clumsy, Loner, Genius

Career: Astronaut

Your parent always told you to shoot for the stars, you just took it a bit too seriously. This world was always a bit too pedestrian for you and you yearn to finally lay your eyes on the astronomical craters of Sixam. There's just one problem: you're terrible at it. It's not your fault, you're just a bit clumsy; but will your two left feet keep you from reaching your dreams?

Goals:

Work in the Astronaut Career your entire life. Get demoted and fired at least once in your lifetime.

Destroy and repair a rocket 3 times.

Live in a tiny home for your young adulthood and adulthood.

Have at least one set of twins. *You can cheat for this!*

Gen 4: The Finer Things in Life

Traits: Materialistic, Hates Children, Lazy

Career: None

You've seen all the generations before you work their little pixelated butts off for every simoleon, but you're not about that life. You were destined for the finer things in life.

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Charisma and Mixology Skills.

Marry and survive 5 spouses. Take that wording however you want. Divorce is not allowed. You must be the last once standing. After all, spouses are like infinity stones. Meaningless.

Never have a job. Only make money from spouses, family, or children. If you get desperate enough you can ask a friend for a loan or steal, but no working of any kind.

Each child you decide to have with one of your rich spouses comes with a 20k trust fund. If they get taken away or die before coming of age, all the money has to be returned to the evil capitalist overlords. You can't get rid of them that easily.

Own at least 1 restaurant/ retail/ business with one of your spouses. Decorate it, assign the uniform, and hire everyone, but you never run it. Why would you go through the trouble?

Gen 5: My Precious

Traits: Art Lover, Kleptomaniac, Self-Assured

Career: Criminal

Your childhood was pretty hectic and you felt like you barely knew your parents. Who needs them? You've never needed anyone else anyway. On your 18th birthday, you receive your inheritance and use it to buy yourself an unfurnished apartment in the nicest building you can find and that's when your money runs out... literally. However, will a new job as a tough guy be the first of many great ideas or will it only be the beginning of the end for this famed family?

Goals

Once you become a young adult give yourself enough money to buy one of the apartments in the Uptown Neighborhood in San Myshuno. It must be unfurnished. After moving in set your money to 0 simoleons.

Complete the Criminal Career.

Reach level 10 of the Mischief and Dancing Skills.

Gain an atrocious reputation and spend the rest of your life trying to cover it up.

Steal 10 paintings from a museum and exhibit them proudly in your home. You are never allowed to sell them. As an adult, hide them in a secret attic nobody else has access to or knows about. They are your precious.

Gen 6: The Muses

Traits: Creative, Family Oriented, Insider

Career: Painter

You could have anything you wanted in the world thanks to your family's empire so you pursued your passion: painting. While you were never close to your other family members you were always very close to your art teacher. This led you to have very close ties to your friends, co-workers, and eventual children. Will your legacy remain for longer in the memory of strangers or your loved ones?

Goals

Complete the Painter Career

Reach level 10 of the Painting, Cooking and Baking Skills

Have a better relationship with your art teacher than anyone else in your family until you're a teen.

Move to a new world once you become a young adult and cut ties with your family.

Be the leader of one club for all your young adulthood and adulthood.

Be close friends with 3 co-workers and all of your children.

Prepare a meal at least once a week with the help of your children. *I know we don't have this in the game yet technically, but I'm hoping to have Cottage Living by the time I play with this generation*

Hang 5 paintings in a museum.

Retire from Painting Career to help care for your grandchildren.

Gen 7: Mole

Traits: Good, Perfectionist, Paranoid

Career: None

You always had a good relationship with your parents. You told each other everything... well, almost everything. You never understood why but one of your parents never talked about the rest of your family members. They explained that they simply never had a good relationship and would rather not talk about it. You respect this until their death when you return to their seemingly abandoned childhood home. While exploring the house you find a not-so-subtle bookcase door and a long forgotten attic filled with paintings. You take them in hopes of returning them but unbeknownst to you, you are being watched.

After an unfortunately unavailable nail-biting car chase, you shake off your attackers. You can't just lead them home to the rest of your family and what would the police do? They don't even arrest Vlad when he's trying to bite all of your sims!

Sorry, different rant.

So you do the only logical thing: you sell the paintings you just stole for some cash to buy an empty lot and skip town. A new life awaits you... just a bit underground.

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Writing, Logic, and Handiness Skills.

Complete the Best Selling Author Aspiration.

After your parent dies, you visit Gen 5's main home and retrieve the paintings hidden in the attic generations ago. Sell them and use the money to buy an empty lot in a completely different world.

Use your remaining money to build a small underground bunker. You can now never leave your bunker or risk immediate death.

You make your income by writing books under your new name. Oh, didn't I mention that? You changed your name to avoid detection. Your children may carry this new fake last name or your partner's.

Gen 8: Part of Your World

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Outgoing, Geek

Career: Social Media

All you knew was the bunker and it's not that you hated it, you just wanted a bit more. You're basically the little mermaid, except you don't get to be a mermaid. You just get a bunker you can never leave and a desperate yearning to explore the outside world.

Your outlet is the internet. From a young age you loved using it to play video games and make friends. As a teen you began to make videos and fostered a community online. Will you finally take your place in the world or remain hidden underground?

Goals

Reach level 10 of the Media Production and Video Gaming Skills

Complete the Social Media Career.

You're never allowed to leave the underground bunker until you're a teen.

You aren't allowed to go to school. Instead you play video games and use your computer for outside interaction.

As a teen you start developing your online presence by posting on social media and making videos on the video station.

You are only allowed to move out of the household once your parent dies and you have enough money in reserves to buy a furnished home.

Gen 9: Natural Born Performer

Traits: Gloomy, Unflirty, Adventurous

Career: Entertainment (Comedy Branch)

Due to your parent's fame, it was always expected you would follow in their footsteps. While a bit more gloomy than most, you are happiest when you make others laugh. So you join the Entertainer Career where you flourish as a comedian. You're also a bit unlucky in love. Will the family name's fame and your own notoriety keep you from finding true love or are you destined to a lifetime of gold diggers and one night stands?

Goals

Complete the Entertainer Career (Comedy Branch).

Reach level 10 of the Comedy and Rock Climbing skills.

Complete Serial Romantic Aspiration

Have four children.

Die suddenly and *mysteriously* in your adulthood.

Gen 10: A Grand Finale

Traits: Kleptomaniac, Ambitious, Perfectionist

Career: Actor

After losing your parents at a very young age, you and your siblings were sent to live with some distant relatives you didn't even know about. While you and your siblings are all very different and you bicker plenty, you always stick together.

After learning you are a descendant of some of the most famous and infamous sims in history, you are determined to meet and surpass their achievements. Will you come out on top or have you flown too close to the sun?

Goals

Complete the Actor Career

Achieve level 10 of 10 skills of your choosing.

Become a Global Superstar.

Get a star on Starlight Boulevard.

Throughout your lifetime you must go on vacation to every house you lived in throughout all previous 9 generations. Oh, and your three other siblings need to come along too. Think of it as Narnia meets It. Also make sure to steal something from each of the houses as a souvenir and display it proudly in your own home.

After you've completed all the things above, get turned into a vampire and choose to end your mortal legacy here... or start a whole new type all together.

Thank you so much for indulging me in this insanity. While I haven't played through any of these generations myself as of yet, I look forward to see the chaos and cuteness possible in The Sims.

Happy simming!

#simblr #ts4 gameplay #ts4 lets play #sims challenge #fame legacy challenge #ts4 simblr #ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #sims legacy #the sims legacy #ts4

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sweetbettycooper · 4 years

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WILD THINGS -OneShot

Ssssshhh Sssshhhh

"We have to be quiet," Betty whispered as Jughead kissed down her neck, digging his teeth in harshly.

"Fuck that." Jughead moaned. His words vibrating along Bettys skin making goose bumps rise and tickle her senses.

Betty held Jughead tighter as she brought his lips back to hers kissing him madly in the janitors closet of Riverdale high.

It was a small cupboard filled with mops and chemicals and tin buckets. Making it really hard to move or keep quiet with all their lustful advances. They had no idea how they both fit in there, but it was the only place they could find in their hurried rush, during their free period.

Jughead was pressed flat against Betty's body wishing they weren't wearing any clothes. They had never done it in a cupboard before. Granted the gym ,the principal��s office, the science lab and the bleachers were all just as risky, but with only minutes left of the school day they weren't about to try.

Jughead's hands smoothed over every inch of her body while Betty held tight to his Jacket collar, making it easier for her to tilt his head and kiss him deeper. Their breathing sharp and heavy, the only thing that could give their hiding spot away at this point.

"God how do you taste so good?" Jughead groaned into her mouth running his tongue over her own. She was like sweet candy to him. Addicted to her sugar high and pink skirts.

Betty smirked against his lips raising her leg slowly up along his jean clad stalks and wrapping it around him. Teasing him to no end. Leaving him no choice, but to grind against her.

"I love it when you do that," Betty whispered breathlessly, grinding her hips back against his.

"You still going out with Archie tonight?" Jughead gritted out trying to think of something to cool his body down.

"Yeah," Betty said dangerously, running his ear lobe through her teeth, "but you're still coming over after that right?"

"Fucking definitely." Jughead grabbed her face roughly, kissing it just as the bell rang.

Like lightning both teens fell out of the cupboard, wanting to get out into the hallway before anyone saw they were in there, or that they were even together for that matter.

High school was a weird place. There was a status quo to keep. Reputations to uphold and Betty and Jughead liked to sneak around.

They had decided to go public for their senior prom which was in a few months and Betty couldn't be more excited but there was one thing she had to do first.

Tell her childhood best friend Archie Andrews.

It was a known fact to everyone even Betty that Archie had a crush on her, but Betty didn't feel the same way. How could she when the school's bad boy Jughead Jones had captured her heart as soon as he walked in the door.

Archie was her best friend though, Betty really didn't want to hurt him. So tonight she was meeting him at pops like they always did as though everything was normal.

As she sat there waiting for him that night she laughed to herself at what Jughead would be thinking about all this right now. She knew Jughead hated Archie and the feeling was definitely mutual. She could just picture him rolling his eyes and cursing under his breath.

"Betty hey sorry I'm late," Archie smiled as he approached and sat down in front of her at their usual booth.

"Hey don't worry Arch I just ordered our usual."

"A Vanilla and strawberry milkshake with fries?"

"What else?" Betty chuckled back.

"Cool."

Then silence fell between them as Betty looked around the diner. It had been happening a lot lately. Maybe they were running out of things to say.

"So....." Archie began slowly. "Did you go home in free period this afternoon? I didn't see you after?"

"Yeah I did," Betty replied quickly, steadfast in her answer. No sign of a lie.

"Well I got detention so that sucks," Archie rolled his eyes laughing at the stupidity of it.

Betty was about to reply when Pop suddenly appeared at their booth with two delicious looking milkshakes.

"Thanks Pop. I don't think I could survive without one of these in my life," Betty joked, taking a sip of hers right away.

"It's my pleasure. Now you kids enjoy," He said in a cheery voice before carrying a chocolate milkshake over to another booth.

She smiled to herself thinking of Jughead and his addiction to Pop's chocolate milkshakes. He was the same as her. Couldn’t live without them.

"You seem happy tonight?" Archie piped up. Betty hadn't noticed he had been staring at her.

But in that moment everything was about to change. No one’s life would ever be the same again.

Betty's happiness would soon fade never to return.

No one had expected it. No one saw it coming.

But the end of the world was here.

Now.

Today.

At that very moment.

-----

The electricity went first. Even the street lights

All the lights went out in an instant, confusing people to start.

Betty knew Pop had a backup generator but when that didn’t kick in she started to worry.

“What’s going on?” Archie asked in the dark. Speaking a bit louder than usual to be heard over everyone else's concerned conversations.

“I .. I don’t know,” Betty said as she pulled out her phone to see if she could find any information online.

Maybe it was across town, she thought.

It wasn’t.

The more she looked, the more she read the more horrified she became.

Then all at once her phone died. Sending her heart rate through the roof in panic. It had been fully charged.

“Did your phone just..?” Archie began but when he looked up and saw people running out of the diner he got his answer.

Betty didn’t know what to do or say. Was it safer inside or outside?

She knew from what she had quickly seen on her phone that they were coming. Invading the world like it was their own and it petrified her to think they could be here at any moment.

“We need to go,” Betty decided frantically, her body starting to shake. “Now!”

Running out the door the world around them had already turned to chaos. Buildings were in fire. People were running and screaming.

A horrified gasp escaped Archie’s lips.

“Holy shit.”

They were here and they were going to kill everything on their path.

“I...I’m...” Betty looked to Archie for help for some sort of direction but he was gone. Fleeing the scene as she looked around. She was all alone.

Betty couldn't think straight. Frozen in her spot just watching everything unfold in front of her. As though she was just waiting to be struck down. With nothing she could do to save her own life.

This was it. She would die in the car park of her favourite place.

“BETTY ! BETTY! BETTY! - WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GO GET OUT OF HERE GO!”

It was Jughead. He was shaking her holding her by the shoulders a wild terrified look in his eye.

“RUN TO THE WOODS I'LL MEET YOU THERE GO!”

What was he doing here. How did he find her so fast. The fact that he thought of her when the world was ending only made Betty feel even more drunk emotions. God she really did love him. That was the first time she had admitted it to herself and it could very well be the last.

“BETTY! ARE YOU LISTENING?!”

Jughead could see she was completely spaced out. Her mind shutting down from the whole situation., but he wasn’t about to let that happen

Grabbing her with force he pulled her close slamming their lips together. Hoping it would wake Betty up like it usually did.

His secret love and passion for her pouring into the kiss. Betty responded immediately holding onto him for dear life. Knowing it might be the last time they see each other.

Betty moaned as Jughead licked her lips slipping his tongue along her own.

A loud explosion breaking them apart.

“What - What’s happening? How are you here? where do I …”

Jughead cupped her cheek trying to calm her.

“BETTS LISTEN TO ME. GO INTO THE WOODS. YOU'LL BE SAFE. HIDE IN DILTONS BUNKER. I’LL FIND YOU,” Jughead said more calmly than he should have. But in the moment whenever they were together time slowed around them.

“I will always find you,” he kissed her one last time.

“I love you,” Betty whispered, her lips lingering on his. She had to tell him even if he wouldn’t say it back.

“I….”

——

Tears ran down Betty’s cheeks as she ran through the woods blood dripping down her arm and leg. Her side stabbing in pain her wound stretched more and more as she ran. But she didn’t stop.

Adrenaline pushing her forward.

She made sure the opening to the bunker was covered in leaves and branches and she closed the lid and practically fell down the ladder inside.

Thank god there was a first aid kit.

Betty cried as she tended to her wounds. Not just from the pain but from absolutely everything. The world was ending. And she was alone.

And Jughead. Had come to save her. But then …

She couldn’t even think about it. All she could do was cry for him.

Laying on the old cot in the bunker Betty shivered. Not because she was cold but because she was so scared.

She didn’t know when she would see the sun again. Lucky there was enough supplies down here to last at least a month.

THREE MONTHS LATER

Betty moved quickly between the trees trying to get back to safety. She’d learnt to run fast and never look back over the past few weeks.

Holding the food that she’d stolen from a nearby hidden camp tightly in her fist. Saving her nails from drawing blood, Betty prepared herself to fight.

She’d run out of food a long time ago and couldn’t live off berries and water any longer. But now she fully regretted wanting anything else. She thought it would go unnoticed but it didn’t and now she was being chased.

Betty didn’t know what the world had come to. She’d spent so long underground all she knew was that some people had survived and Jughead was gone.

Darting behind a big tree Betty hid trying to catch her breath. She Barely had any energy these days. She couldn’t hear any heavy footsteps as her breathing slowed and decided to make a break for it. With not very far left to go.

But as she did Betty ran straight into a hard tree. Falling to the ground. Well that’s what she thought anyway.

Coming to her senses waiting for the world to stop spinning Betty honestly thought she was dreaming.

“Jughead…?”

#bughead fanfiction #bughead fanfic #bughead family #bughead #betty x jughead #betty cooper #jughead jones #jughead x betty #bughead fandom #bughead endgame

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silveryfairy · 3 years

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hey man if it's not too much trouble, could you give us a brief rundown of the Nocturnes? It's just, every morning I wake up and there's a new one, and I Care everyone in this establishment a lot though I don't really know them, thank you kindly have a nice day

let my preface this by saying: aayushi, i love you, and your enthusiasm and interest for the things i create never ceases to bring me joy. you are the kind of friend i think everyone should have and i say that completely genuinely outside of this bit.

i say that as an apology in advance for what i’m about to unleash upon you, because what you’re going to see is the product of my friend @himepapillon and i’s absolute BRAINROT and what comes of it when not only two people make an oc universe from scratch but what happens when we then have to explain that universe to other people

you are in no way required to retain this information as to be completely honest me and jeremie haven’t fully either and we’re the ones who MADE this shitshow. below is the shoddy family tree i lovingly crafted in ms paint

let us begin.

for starters, i’ll specify some things:

1. not every oc on this chart is mine, as it’s a collaboration between me and jeremie - the koenig family and bishop family belong to faer but the rest is all me baby! for the sake of your soul i will only be going into my half of this Mess

2. the universe this takes place in is a pretty wacky and silly one, just, like, Slightly removed from reality. these characters are all completely batshit insane and do things that no human being probably should. it’s all portrayed critically, as the general concept of this whole thing is “the goings-on of a bunch of unhinged corrupt rich people”. we kind of flip flop on how seriously stuff is played but if i had to slap a genre on this it’d be, like, black comedy drama. i know a lot of these concepts sound kinda fucked to write but that’s just because i’m trying to describe them in a SOMEWHAT concise way without going into Super Introspective mode

the nocturnes are an incredibly influential and rich family in the uk that tends to produce very influential and rich people. they’re also all a little bit insane. the main characters of this Saga are the sons of desmond and xanthes, the family’s resident Power Couple and biggest figureheads. they suck ass but that will become apparent the second i talk about their children.

from oldest to youngest, the nocturne boys are:

ichor nocturne, 25 - the eldest, ichor was disowned from the household when he was 18 for unruly behavior, sent to live alone on a farm so he couldn’t tarnish his family’s image any further. since then, you’d think the isolation has driven him a bit mad - he’s a very prolific cotton farmer and has been doing astonishingly well for himself, running his farm on his own with only his parents’ inheritance as help. ...that, and, of course, the blood of the people he executes to keep his crops growing - or so he believes. he moonlights as an executioner in the small town over, exterminating the ‘pests’ of the city. despite his newfound violence, he still routinely checks in on his siblings, finding ways to mysteriously end up at their door to pay visits. the older brother instinct still hasn’t left

icarus nocturne, 23 - the second eldest (only by technicality, as he is a twin), icarus is the family’s golden child! but not in terms of business or anything, oh no - icarus is a famous heartthrob teen (sorta) musician! he’s been in the limelight since he was a little boy, being an actor as a small child and getting into music as he grew. his general Look(tm), accompanied by infectiously happy rave music, is a trademark cutesy mask over his face with oversized clothing - meant to express as much energy as possible as he bounces about the stage. in reality, he lives a life as forced and controlled as possible by virtue of... living the fucked up life of a child star. but his parents have someone to take the fall - so, what of his twin?

achilles nocturne, 23 - icarus’ younger twin, which wouldn’t mean much... in any family but this one. achilles has had it drilled into his head since the beginning that he was a mistake next to icarus, to the point where legally, he does not exist. following icarus beginning his career, achilles was unpersoned completely - living in the family’s basement with the height of his education being for a very specific purpose... needing to be icarus’ body double on tours and for paparazzi - after all, they can’t have icarus’ purity tainted by all those clamboring fans! it’s a godawful situation. on the bright side, though, achilles has found a hobby where he can be himself: twitch streaming! yes really. under the name of 1upanonymous, hidden under a mask just like his brother, achilles at least has a fanbase that can love him for who he is! ...uh, kind of.

tomasine “tommy” nocturne, 16 - the youngest of the bunch, and it says a lot about his siblings’ capabilities that he’s the technical heir to the nocturnes’ various businesses and fortune. tommy is just a feral 16 year old that doesn’t give two shits about any fame or fortune, he just wants to party and drink and have fun like any other kid his age! he’s rebellious, loud, and charmingly annoying (to his brothers anyway), and has no real care for the gravity of his family’s situations beyond finding it annoying that they want him to be all PRIM and PROPER and BUSINESSY EEWWWWW. he’s just a funny loud little child trying to live his best life. loves his brothers fiercely

already a mess of people. and really, all you need to know about or really keep in mind are those four: the upcoming characters are largely just side ones we came up with because we thought it’d be funny to flesh out this fucked up family more. so let’s get into the anatra branch of the family - headed by jael nocturne, xanthes’ brother and the siblings’ uncle

jael anatra-nocturne, who i am not giving an age for my own sanity trying to decipher this fucking timeline - a crude and playful uncle, jael is someone the nocturne boys either love (icarus, tommy) or hate (achilles, ichor). constantly joking, as he expresses affection with loving insults - kind of a money-driven asshole, but a lovable one - he’s a career politician and met his current husband, joaquin, on the job. or, well... no longer current, because jael’s funny life of debauchery, toxic masculinity, and making fun of his nephews, came to an abrupt end when he was assassinated on live television. yipes!

joaquin anatra-nocturne, who also does not get an age - jael’s former secretary and current widow, joaquin is the local wine uncle. im not sure if that’s a classification but it is now, because he is one. an unapologetic gold-digger, he (publicly) took jael’s death frighteningly well, and is now living his best life with a revolving door of new boyfriends. his relationship with jael was a genuine and very loving one, and joaquin IS devastated by his death, but both of them just found the bit of pretending to be this loveless gold digger/politician couple very funny, and being as suspicious as possible around his husband’s death is exactly what jael would have wanted joaquin to do

taddeo anatra-nocturne, 14 - the youngest child of these two, a shy little boy with big Child In A Horror Movie energies. makes potions in the backyard and probably decorates his clothes with animal bones n stuff when he’s older. despite this he’s pretty harmless, nice and fiercely loyal - tommy especially thinks he’s fun and likes to hang out with him at family gatherings - just so long as you look past the creepy dolls he likes to talk to and fires he likes to set. especially close with jael and wants to be a miniature version of him, buuut still being a shy tween taddeo hasn’t been able to act on that much.

dailon anatra-nocturne, 20 - the adopted second child of jael and joaquin, dailon is a moody and unstable delinquent that was snatched up by them just as he was about to age out of foster care. while he has a chill ‘cool-older-even-though-he’s-younger-cousin’ demeanor, the tension when he’s around his parents - jael specifically - can be cut with a knife. dailon hates his dad: ‘someone who expresses affection with insults and jokes and likes seeing people pissed at him’ and ‘someone who’s volatile, short-tempered, and sullen after living in a foster home most his life’ are just as bad of a combination as you’d expect. dailon gets himself into a lot of trouble, and is an overall very self-centered prick, but we’ll get more on that in a bit.

HELL FAMILY...2!!! that’s the last of the families to cover, buuuut there are still some other names on that list - mostly connected to dailon. this is REAL “just going on in the background” shit that you also do not need to know whatsoever (except for mitzi she’s pretty important she’s just down here for organization purposes) - i just like to play god and make characters get into drama.

[tw: cheating, unhealthy relationships, stalking]

mitzi “moon” altberg, 23 - achilles must feel very far away by now, but we’re back to him for a second! mitzi is his ex-girlfriend he met online, a fan-to-employee-to-lover and one of the maybe two people outside of the family achilles has shown his real face to. however, achilles growing up deeply unstable - between his parents’ abuse, having spotlights on him and adoring fans both as icarus’ body double and as a streamer, and in general not really growing up to be any kind of well developed human being - made this relationship a complete disaster. he grew obsessive and controlling - and when she tried to ignore him, he broke his one rule (to never go outside without permission) to find the hotel she was staying at in real life and show up to confront her. the incident was completely covered up, both by the nocturnes and with their connections, and so mitzi was forced to stay silent. this entire thing is based on this song! as time heals wounds, though, mitzi will end up doing pretty well for herself and putting achilles behind her - even getting a new boyfriend, jared!

reynard fiala, 20 - dailon’s (ex-)boyfriend, who he’s enraveled in his own weird soap opera subplot with. reynard is a relatively chill person, with an interest in art and taxidermy - just as morbid as dailon’s brother, but in a more. Normal way. genuinely a sweetheart who does not deserve what happens to them: getting cheated on with dailon’s best friend. yipes^2! while it's earth shattering in the moment, all reynard will really want to do come some time to process is to move on and for him and dailon both to heal in peace... far away from eachother (which is easier said than done since taddeo thinks reynard is super cool and loves having him over, the awkwardness between them and his brother be damned)

jared summers, 21 - the most normal person here. a longterm best friend of dailon’s, and yes, the very same one i just mentioned. he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer - what we in the industry would call a himbo if his dumbassery didn’t cause very real damage - who had been pining for dailon for years and him dating was no deterrent, and dailon, thinking the world revolves around him as he tends to do, accepted jared’s confession so they just kinda started dating on the side. jared has the moral backbone of a pool noodle, and even after it causes dailon’s relationship with reynard to fall apart, will need a wholeass intervention to be staged to make them both realize just how shitty they’re being. after that, though, jared will end that mess and be on his way to becoming a better person himself - with the help of a sweet girl he’s met online.

jared and mitzi dating in the future is the most contrived thing on the planet but just hear me out that it’ll be HILARIOUS for achilles to check in on his ex-girlfriend and find she’s dating his cousin’s best friend, who said cousin was apparently dating on the side. very small world, it is.

anyway, thank you if you’ve somehow stuck around to read this entire thing - this isn’t even getting into jeremie’s half of this whole ordeal, which includes some of these fellas’ friends and partners, as well as more crazy rich people nonsense. it’s been very fun to think about and i do love it all dearly, even if putting it all together it’s SUCH a mess.

we don’t intend to make anything Legit out of this, it’s honestly just a fun way to pass the time. it’s the adult equivalent of playing dollhouse. in our minds this is like a 20 season soap opera but actually explaining it to other people it’s just like this

but thank you again for letting me babble i hope it was somewhat entertaining! and again, godspeed if you managed to read this much XD

#nocturnes #ichor nocturne #icarus nocturne #achilles nocturne #tommy nocturne #jael anatra nocturne #joaquin anatra nocturne #taddeo anatra nocturne #dailon anatra nocturne #mitzi moon #jared summers #reynard fiala

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vurlix · 3 years

Text

The Druid of Mothem

### I started working really hard on this one AI Dungeon campaign mapping out the whole world of Xaxas that the game offers and putting it all into World Anvil (an online world builder) So i can better track places and people since the AI in AI dungeon can only remember so much. The majority of this story is created by GPT-3 (if I had to make a guess I’d say ~85-90%. I also used the website Art Breeder to generate the pictures for the characters and landscapes. ###

### AI is coming a long way. I plan to continue this story since I love playing a druid in 5e. ###

### I also added the new AI Dungeon feature which allows the gaining of stats so every time I try to do an action, it rolls on stats that continue to grow. ###

### But besides that, I also rolled out a Druid Wood Elf and have a character sheet to follow

I’ll link everything after the story, other than that I hope you enjoy!! ###

###

You are Goodaquazi, a male elf druid who lives in the town of Morthem. You are new to the town though rarely actually visit it. Being a druid you're the most comfortable being outside the town in the forest with nature. The town of Morthem consists of a few large buildings and many smaller ones surrounding it. Humans and elves make up the population of this small farming town. A large deep forest surrounds the farmland as far as the eye can see. It truly is a beautiful forest.

When you're not spending time in Morthem, you can be found deep in study at a small nature temple located somewhere away from Morthem deep in the forest. This temple is where all druids or those with an interest in nature and druidism spend time in study, meditation, or prayer.

The day to day life of Morthem goes on with or without you and that's OK. The people are content and that's all that's in your heart. It's a simple life, and you're happy with that.

You are in a forest somewhere far from any civilisation. This is your home and you feel comfortable here with the animals, plants, and nature. You were taught by the master druids to harness the natural magic energy that exists in all things. You practice this skill every day for there is always more to learn.

You lie down on the ground, stretching out your arms and legs along the lush grass and closing your eyes. The sun is high overhead, its light filtered through an unblemished blue sky. A cool wind blows through the field, carrying with it the rich scents of soil and nature. The grass is damp from last night's rain, and you can sense the life force of the land, almost as if it were a living creature itself. The scents and sensations are almost overpowering after your time in the city, but feel refreshing now that your senses have been reawakened.

You slowly open your eyes. All around you, plants grow and animals live in a perfect state of harmony with the land. You vanish from their sight, though creatures with greater senses might still be able to detect your presence if they were really looking.

However, it is not upon the ground that you wish to be. You feel cramped and bored lying there, so you take a deep breath and rise up into the air, levitating several feet above the ground. You are weightless, able to drift through the air with only a thought.

You have many hidden conversations with animals as you move through the forest and they, curious about this friendly stranger. Different types of animals, each with their own unique personalities, sizes and abilities. There are fighting animals able to kill even the largest of beasts, and others that are solely for transportation or, in some cases, purely companionship.

You drift along atop the wind, smiling and laughing as you fly. This is how you move from place to place when you are outdoors. Eventually, you begin to get a splitting headache from all the sensory input and decide to head back home for the day.

You approach your cabin by nightfall. Made chiefly of wood with a thatched roof, it looks every part the fairy-tale cottage. An enormous oak tree towers over it and provides shade. You walk up to the door and unlock it with ease. Heading inside, you take off your shoes, as is custom in this land. The entire floor is covered by a thick carpet of grass which springs back up after every step you take.

Una, your girlfriend, is preparing dinner. Her long blond hair falls down to the small of her back and her sky coloured eyes pierce your very being. By her feet rests Zane, the cutest puppy you've ever seen who can someday grow up to be a fierce guard dog if given the right training.

"Hey, Una," you say.

"Uh-huh," she replies, engrossed in the cooking.

From another room, you hear a baby boy giggling. The newest member of your family, Behan, lies in his cradle. You fly through the door and hover over his crib, looking down on his innocent features. Through your son, you have discovered the true joys of fatherhood. All younglings go through an insane rebellious phase, which Behan will eventually go through too, but for now he is really sweet.

"You look tired," remarks Una, suddenly standing beside you with a bowl of strawberries in her hands.

You take one out of the bowl and eat it, relishing the sweet taste as it enters your mouth. "I had an interesting day," you reply. "Why is Zane outside?"

Una blushes. "I wanted to surprise you. Turn around."

Curious, you do as she says and spin on the spot. You hear Una squeal with delight before her arms embrace you from behind and her head rests itself upon your shoulder. "So?" she asks, a mischievous smile evident in her voice.

You turn to face Una and are faced with the image of her clad in a tight, midriff showing black dress and knee high stilettos. Your jaw drops and you stare with awe. "Wow," you utter, staring at her beauty. "You... look... amazing!"

"I thought we could go to a friends' house to eat. They're having a party, do you want to go?"

The constant sensory input has given you a monstrous hunger, and as much as you love Una, you need food. "Absolutely," you say.

The two of you fly to your friend's house. The manor lies on a hilltop which descends into a plain, which lies on the edge of a dense evergreen forest. You are faced with the grandest house you have ever seen. Dozens of little windows peer at you like wandering eyes. Hundreds of lights create the illusion that the house is glowing. The manor is at least four stories high and has a tryst swim among trees behind it. The entire setting is like something out of a fairy tale. You land beside a golden pathway that leads up to the manor. The evergreen forest towers over you on both sides and a soft, cool breeze passes through it, sending chills down your spine. You take a deep breath through your nose as you enter through the heavy wooden door.

You are faced with a giant hall, with several corridors branching off it. The walls are lined with suits of armour, which glare at you with iron eyes. Black and white tiles line the floor, and a giant chandelier made up of antlers hangs from the ceiling. You both walk past the hall and down one of the branching corridors. Tiny flickering lights dance along the corridors' walls. You peer into a room and see a grand piano and several pieces of classical music written in notes on sheets of music. You enter the room as you sense somebody there. An old man with a goatee sits in the corner of the room, playing the piano. The music is slow and rhythmic.

You remember this man. He was one of Una's former boyfriends, a pianist that travels around the country and plays for people. You are about to call out to him when Una grabs your wrist. You look at her, meeting her fiery eyes. She motions for you to follow her and the pair of you bypass the man entirely. The next corridor weaves back and forth and has the same black and white tiles as the last corridor. Finally, the corridor brings you to a set of stairs. You climb the stairs slowly, and as you do you see someone at the top. It's the host of the party, Judge Beckery.

"You came!" he says, smiling. "I can already tell this is going to be the best party ever."

"Who was that man playing?" you ask, motioning toward the room with the grand piano.

"Oh him?" says Beckery. "That's just Harvey. He's a bit of a weirdo."

You nod slowly.

"Anyway, I just got here myself," says the Judge. "I'll show you to your room."

The pair of you head up another flight of stairs and Beckery stops at the first door on the left. He opens it and ushers you inside.

"I hope you'll be comfortable in here," he says.

The room is small but comfortable. It has a double bed, a dresser, and a nightstand with a lamp. There's also a desk in the corner. The walls are covered with a deep blue wallpaper. You set your bags down on the floor and look out the window. The courtyard and forest surround the house.

You return to the party. Those few feet between you and Una seem like an endless distance, one that neither of you are willing to cross.

As you enter the room the crowd melts away before you and everyone stares in astonishment. You stand there, surrounded by a crowd of people. A fight seems inevitable.

Suddenly the crowd parts and Una comes before you. She looks into your eyes and gives you a small smile. It's a smile that says everything will be alright. You smile back, and then feel your face flush and your heart flutter.

Before you stands Una, a tall and willowy young woman with long blond hair, gray eyes, and fair skin. Her beauty takes your breath away--more than that, her presence does, the way she stares back into your eyes timidly yet still willing to meet your gaze for as long as you like.

"I love you Una, thank you for bringing us here but I'm starving! Why don't we go into the dining room and get something to eat?"

Everyday your craft keeps you occupied and your spare time is spent with Una. As the years pass your personal life and druidic life begin to overlap one another. Your love for Una only deepens and your son Behan grows in strength and wisdom. You tell him stories of the old lands of Tuatha, and promise that when he's old enough you'll return, if only to visit.

"I saw the strangest thing today," Una says to you as you eat dinner. You are eating roasted duck at this party and Una has been watching you and Behan with a faint frown on her face.

"What's that?" you ask.

"I saw one of the peasants run over a fox and kill it." she says.

"That's terrible, why would someone be so careless about a living creature. What if that fox was me Una? Did you see who the peasant was that ran over the fox? " you respond.

"I did," she says, "It was Chris."

"Are you sure it was him?"

"No. But the man I saw was a barbarian and he's friends with that barbarian."

Knowing Una, this must have bothered her greatly. You've never been a fan of Chris, it seems that even if you are wrong about him, you still have to tell him to apologize to Una. As the sun disappears over the horizon and night falls, you head over to Chris's room.

You rap on his door and he bids you come in.

"What the hell do you want." Chris grunts angrily. You can tell he's clearly been drinking and not to mention his room smells awful. You also notice that there are various bottles filled with assorted types of Liquid.

"My wife is pretty upset with what happened at the party earlier, and I'd like to apologize if I could." You lie.

"Alright?" He says to you as he lights his pipe, the lighter producing a small blue flame.

You quickly chant a short incantation and the flame on his pipe flares up as smoke billows into his face, he has been incapacitated by the flames and he begins to scream as he desperately tries to pat them out.

You rush over and smack him in the head with your palm and he's out like a light.

You then look for Una to make sure she is alright, you find that Chris' alcohol and medications have finally kicked in and he has gotten some sleep.

You reassure Una and tell her not to worry about anything.

The next morning you both wake up and start to gather your equipment together.

You hug Una close and tell her how much you care for her.

"I told you everything was going to be fine." She says to you with a smile, "Let's go home, I miss Behan...and you need someone to do the shopping and cleaning."

Slowly the two of you head home. You start to reflect on the events that have occurred and realize that your life is finally calming down. You open the door of your home to find Zane making Behan laugh by chasing his tail. You watch your family with a smile on your face, glad that everything has worked out for you. You take a seat and call Zane over to join the family for a group hug.

“Good boy” you say to Zane as he begins to wag his tail happily. He gets up and goes over to Behan who is attempting to crawl away to no avail. Zane begins to lick Behan in the face, you watch them both laugh and occasionally look over to Una. You feel truly happy just watching them all. This is real happiness, this must be how Father felt. Time passes and it's nighttime before you know it. You tell Una that you're gonna cook dinner for tonight so she can relax and enjoy her night. With the nightly routine of cooking, cleaning and putting Behan to bed you soon find yourself heading off to bed as well.

As you both lie in bed with Una's hand wrapped around your arm you feel truly complete. There's nowhere else in the world you'd rather be, you have everything you need right here.

Your eyes start to get heavy as you fall asleep with a smile on your face. Your mind drifts from one thing to another as you find yourself entering the druidic realm of dreams. Several hours later you drift back into consciousness and remember the events that have led you here. You open your eyes and slowly sit up, the sun is already high in the sky outside and Una is nowhere to be seen. Knowing that she's probably out hunting, you get out of bed and look out the window. You take a deep breath through your nose and smell the scent of trees, nature, earth, and wild animals. You feel truly at peace in this moment.

With a smile across your face you walk over to Behan's bed and pick him up.

"Come on Behan!" you shout excitedly "Let's go play outside!"

You look outside and everything looks great. The forest, the trees, the earth, everything is perfect. This is your life now, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You set Behan down on the floor and go over to your dresser to grab your clothes. Nature is perfect, yes, but there are simple things in life that make it better. And one of those things is clothes. You put on your typical outfit, nothing too fancy, just your typical wool pants and tunic. With that done, you walk outside to play with Behan in the fields.

Zane wakes up and comes to join in the fun running around in circles and making Behan crawl after his tail. Every day is a happy day when you're with those who matter to you .

As you look out across the fields to watch Una returning from hunting with freshly killed deer, you realize that those that got you through hard times are the ones that matter most.

You will continue life as it is now. There is nothing else you could desire.

You greet Una with a small smile and hold out your arms for the deer carcass.

"Good work Una." You say smiling at her as you lift up the deer.

"Thank you." Una responds looking down at Behan who crawls over to her legs.

The carcass will feed your family for the next few days. You set it down near your home and bring Una inside to rest. She's a hero today and that's all that matters. She deserves to be treated as one.

You Kiss Una on the forehead and lift her in your arms to carry her into the bedroom.

You place her near Behan, and they both fall into a gentle sleep. They look like an angel and a demon sleeping together, but there's no malice in them at all!

You grab your blade and walk over to the deer carcass. You begin to butcher the beast using your vast expertise in limb severing. First, you remove the legs, then the head and then the torso. You work fast because you don't want the meat to begin rotting. With enough salt, you could eat it in a day or so.

Your family will eat good tonight and for the next few days!

Having finished the job you walk back into the house returning to Una's bedside to watch her sleep until dusk arrives.

Throwing in some pork for extra taste, you set out to make the deer meat stew.

The meat and bone will be used to make the stew and the offal fed to Zane who is begging by your side the whole time.

A blue flame envelops your hand and you slam your hand into the oven! The rich scent of flame-broiled deer meat fills the room in an instant.

"Zane! If you eat any more of my food, you won't grow up to be big and strong like me!" You joke at your small but ferocious dog!

Finally, the food is done, and you sit down with Una and Behan to enjoy an evening meal.

Master of fire you may be, but without the love and support of your wife and son you would burn out in a flash. Tonight you are happy and look forward to an amazing life with your family.

You hold Una's hand and thank her for being the amazing woman she is. "I have a goal set for myself tomorrow Una, I'm going to learn to shape shift" you explain. Una smiles and shakes her head fondly at you. "You'll never stop learning will you?" she asks in response. You both laugh and enjoy the evening meal.

#ai #ai dungeon #gpt3 #machine learning #artificial intelligence #rpg #fantasy #fantasy art #world anvil #fantasy novel #my novel #ai novel #druid #elf #randomly generated

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stanskzseungmin · 5 years

Text

BC ~ Corpse Party

Supernatural! + CorpseParty! AU

Genre: Angst, Horror

Trigger Warnings: Graphic descriptions of gore and death, Chan has a bit of a potty mouth oop-

Word Count: 4834

A/N: I took light inspirations from Corpse Party, but it isn't a direct retelling of the series. Credits to the original owners of Corpse Party for giving me inspiration for this imagining as well as credits for the character, Sachiko, and the Sachiko Ever After charm.

A/N 2: i actually tried to proofread this time (I know, shocking), but I got lazy and really want to get this one up lmao. So we kinda dying like men?

A/N 3: I suggest listening to the soundtrack as you read, but it's fine too if you don't.

Chan and you had always been close. You both grew up as next door neighbors. The two of you formed a fast friendship when your ball accidentally rolled over to your neighbor’s yard with it stopping by his feet. The dark haired boy with chubby cheeks looked at you with your red cherry ball within his hands. You had asked him if he wanted to play play along with a wide toothy smile that showed the gap in your teeth. You ran over the boundary to grab him by the wrist and the rest was history.

“Hey, short stuff. Are you ready to leave this hell hole?” Chan chuckled landing a light punch on your shoulder.

“You’re not going to be able to leave this hell hole if you don’t study for your final. I didn’t agree to stay after school to tutor you just for you to fool around,” you smiled back tossing a rolled up paper ball at him. The ball bouncing pathetically off his forehead, eliciting a “hey!” from him.

“Nu uh. You’re not tutoring me, I’m tutoring you,” Chan enunciated by pointing at himself then pointing at you.

“Dork,” Chan laughed at your remark. ”Chan, we’re tutoring each other on different subjects.”

“I can’t wait to go home, I’m pooped,” Chan exclaimed dramatically.

“Me too, but we’re stuck here until the storm ends,” you pointed your pen to the window with rain pattering against the glass as the night sky lit up with a loud thunderous boom.

“Ugh!” Chan leaned back in his chair and throwing his head back.

“Might as well to use this time to not procrastinate and squeeze in extra studying,” you suggested.

“But I don’t wanna~” Chan whined.

“What are you? 8?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Don’t you have any other ideas?” Chan sighed slumping over the table, sprawling his limbs over both your notes.

“I got one idea.”

“Do tell,” Chan sat up leaning his cheek on his hand.

“Do you have scissors?” you asked pulling out a sheet of paper.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Chan rummaged through his backpack for the school supply.

“Have you ever heard about the ’Sachiko Ever After’ charm?” you asked grabbing the scissors from his grasp.

“Mmm mmm,” Chan pressed his lips together as he shook his head.

“I read it on a blog online,” you started, cutting the paper into a doll shape. “It’s a charm that blesses people with eternal friendship.”

“Lame,“ Chan snorted.

“Rude,” you pouted.

“Hey, we’ll still be friends forever,” Chan smiled grabbing your hand gently shaking it softly. “So what is it?”

“Legend has it that years ago there was a school that was met with a tragedy. The school nurse died in a tragic accident: she fell down the stairs and her neck was deformed and bent out of shape. Allegedly her daughter, Sachiko, went missing that same night.”

“And this ensures eternal friendship how?” Chan inquired, his eyebrow quirking up. The room lit up as thunder boomed.

You shrugged as you cleaned up the shape of the paper doll. “They say that her spirit still wanders the earth and she has the ability to grant wishes. If you do the ‘Sachiko Ever After’ charm, her spirit will channel through and give her blessings for eternal friendship.”

“Cool,” Chan smiled. “So how do we do it?”

You held up the paper doll. “We need at least two people in order to do the charm. We both have to firmly grasp parts of this doll, then we chant ‘Sachiko, we beg of you.’ We have to do it in our head, one time for each person in the room. In our case, we have to chant it twice. Afterwards, we have to pull on the doll. Ideally, we keep the paper scrap on our person at all times.”

Thunder struck loudly as the room shook lightly.

Chan laughed. “This could be a sign? Sachiko doesn’t want us to be friends.”

“Very funny, Chan,” you responded sarcastically.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Chan grinned at you grabbing the doll’s legs with you grabbing the head.

“You ready?” you looked at him.

“Yeah,” Chan smiled.

‘Sachiko, we beg of you. Sachiko, we beg of you.’

Chan and you made eye contact and nodded to each other signifying you were done. With a firm grip, you both pulled on the doll, the paper ripping along the waist.

Lightning tore through the night sky as deafeningly loud thunder broke through the silence. The walls shook lightly as the lights flicker. The window shatters as the harsh winds force the tree branch that was tapping on the glass to break through.

“Wack,” Chan frowned, leaning over to his backpack to grab his wallet and slide his piece of paper into it with you doing the same to yours.

“So, now you’re stuck with me for eternity,” you giggled.

“Gasp. The horror!” Chan smiled as he grabbed the fabric of his shirt over where his heart is residing before throwing an arm around you to pull you into a hug.

You and Chan paused as the entire building shook. The tables moving along the vibrations. The lights were flickerings as books were shaken out of the book shelves.

“Earthquake!” Chan called out, reaching out to grab your shoulders to pull you down to the ground.

“Channie!” you called out, with panic laced in your voice.

“I’m here, I got you-”

The ground shook once more, this time the shaking was so much more forceful. You felt the vibrations stopping momentarily as the ground disappeared below you. Your heart skipped a beat and you and Chan stared at the dark abyss that suddenly appeared below you. Soon afterwards, both you and Chan starting falling into the darkness as a scream ripped out of your throat.

“Y/N!” Chan called out to you, reaching out to you. Your hands reach up to grab at his sleeves as he pulled you close to his body. “Don’t let go!”

That was the last thing you’ve heard before you were engulfed by the darkness.

You awaken (by Stray Kids) in an unfamiliar place. You sat up slightly, feeling the searing pain in your shoulder. You let out a small whine as you rubbed at your aching shoulder with your free hand.

“Chan?” you called out for your friend realizing he wasn’t with you. “CHAN?!”

You stood up on your knees as your frantically looked around the room. Outside the window was the same familiar thundering storm, but the room you were in was unfamiliar. The walls were greying and weak. The paint has chipped off, worn over the years exposing the weak splintering wood underneath. The floor was made of the same wood. There were holes decorating the floor as a few planks were popped up. Surrounding you were many desks, broken and tattered, knocked over haphazardly. Curiously, the desks were all on the smaller side. There were a few posters pasted to the walls, the ink and image faded away due to age. You can barely make out the faded text and image. It looked to be what was one a colorful cartoonish image with various letters on it.

Were you in...an elementary school?

“Channie?” you called out again, standing on your feet.

Thunder rumbled lightly outside as the rain pitter pattered lightly on the window. Lightning cracked through the atmosphere again, illuminating the dark room momentarily. You screamed at what you saw, backing up quickly. Your back roughly collided into the book shelf as you lost balance. Your hands reach out to the shelf to catch yourself.

Opposite of you on the other side of the room, was a sprawled body. An arm was outstretched as the head rested on the limb. Both eyes were void of any contents as it appeared as if a vast emptiness was staring deep into your soul. The mouth was open in a silent scream. The skin was grey with several wrinkles and had a texture similar to leather. The clothes were ripped and tattered as you saw bone peeking through the holes.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, feeling your legs give out under you. You curled up on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. Your hands overlap over your erratic heart as your breaths labor. You felt a chill ran down your spine as goosebumps appeared on your arms. You lifted your arm into view as your fingers grazed over the bumps to soothe them.

In your peripherals, a blue light illuminated the corner. In curiosity, you faced the light. Your heart dropping as your eyes widen. In a seated position with her knees pulled to her chest, a girl, red, boring deep into your souls. Her skin looked pure and pale as a sheet, but her red attire, what used to be a pretty red dress was torn and distressed. The fabric was fraying out and dirtied with who knows what -- things you wouldn’t dare to imagine. The figure’s hair was long and dark and in disarray. Strands of hair lingered in front of her face as her glaring wide eyes peeked through, you can feel her gaze burning holes through you.

You made eye contact with a girl as you felt an electric shock running throughout your veins. Cold sweat began forming in various spots in your body as your breathing became increasingly more labored. Fear wracked your body when you realized that your limbs felt as if it wasn’t your own anymore. The girl, without a sudden sound, stood upright in a straight posture and walked menacingly close to you. You wanted to protest, but even your mouth betrayed you. Your mouth was fixed in its clenched position as you were forced to watch the specter inch ever so closer to you. A hand was brought to her chest as the object glinted. Held by the base of the blade, was a squeaky clean unrusted pair of scissors as the lips curled upward in a small innocent smile.

Your blood curdling scream ripped through the air.

Chan had awaken with a jolt as he shot awake. His head was pounding as he rolled onto his back with a pained moan. He brought his fingers up to the throbbing pain, feeling warm liquid and a slight stinging upon contact. Bringing his hand into view revealed to the Aussie his brilliantly red coated fingers.

“Fuck,” Chan let his hand fall limp as he screwed his eyes shut. Chan let out a breathy sigh as he cracked his eyes open a bit. He took a nice long look at the cracked, worn and discolored ceiling not recognizing it.

“What the fuck? Where am I?” Chan wondered out loud shooting up into a sitting position, wincing loudly at the throbbing on his head protesting from the abrupt action.

“Ow ow ow,” Chan pressed his palm firmly onto the head wound as he willed himself off the ground.

Lightning illuminated the room briefly. It was a small quaint room with faint evidence of childish crayon and marker scribbles on the wall. The floor was littered with various markers and crayons as well as various toys. Chan scanned the room from left to right. He eyed the sprawled out letter blocks, each block was gathering dust and spread out haphazardly. He then analyzed the several balls that were scattered on the floor. Chan’s eyes narrowed at a point of interest as he stepped forward towards an oddly familiar ball.

“What the fuck?” Chan shook his head in disbelief. His hand reached for the ball, his fingers grazing over the worn rubber as he rolled it towards him.

“No,” Chan said sternly backing away quickly from the ball. Written on the ball scribbled with permanent marker was his and your names from your childhood days. Chan remembered the ball that started his long lasting friendship and vaguely recalled the ball popping and tossed due to the worn rubber from continuous use and play being weak and thin. Chan remembered the ball bouncing into his parent’s rose bush and the beloved toy popping.

“That’s- that’s not possible,” Chan whispered out. Chan turned away to step out of the room only to trip over the stacks of blocks gathered by his feet. “What?”

Chan’s eyes darted to the corner where the blocks were previously rested at only to find it bare. How did it gather at his feet?

"This is getting freaky," Chan grumbled stepping over the blocks.

Chan made his way towards the door of the room only to find a flipped over toy remote car blocking the doorway. Unlike everything else in the room that was greying and gathering dust, the car had a brilliant gloss and sheen over the red paint. Chan bent down to pick up the toy car and examine it closely. It looked to be in pristine condition with a fairly strong smell of fresh plastic.

"Why- aah!" Chan yelped when the car revved to life as the front two wheels began turning left and right frantically dropping the car as it fell and bounced on the ground. Pieces of plastic shattered and fluttered off during impact. The car bounced and rolled until it was on its hood, the battery casing popping off the bottom.

It was empty.

A loud scream shrieked through the atmosphere as Chan jumped up ready.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Chan barreled out of the room into an unfamiliar hallway.

"Oh shit," Chan cursed as he stopped just in time, swaying back and forth trying to keep his balance. The room Chan was in led to a collapsed floor. The wood was splintering around the edges and the remaining wood creaked and groaned under Chan's weight. Chan peered down the hole, it seemed endless; Chan was unable to see past the darkness.

Chan pressed his back against the wall to shimmy his way to his right down the hallway back to solid ground. Going left wasn't an option do to the lack of structurally sound wood, the ones that were there looked as if they were rotting away and can give way when applied any sort of pressure.

Chan could hear you scream once more.

"Y/N?" Chan looked past the huge collapsed gap on the floor as he sees you stumbling out of your room, landing directly on your back. Your eyes were wide and glossy, your hair was disheveled with several strands sticking in every direction. Panic wracked through your body, Chan can see all the trembles and could almost hear your labored breathing.

"Y/N? Y/N!" Chan tried to call out to you from his side of the gap.

Your head slowly turned to face his directly as your face paled impossibly whiter as if you've seen a ghost. Whimpers erupted from your lips as you quickly back up and ran away.

"Y/N! Wait!" Chan called out, reaching out an arm, but you were already gone.

You whimpered to yourself as you slowly walked down the stairs, jumping slightly after every creek of the wood holding against your weight. Paranoia wracked your being as your dilating eyes dart back and forth at every single nook and cranny. The air felt heavier the further you walked down as if there were more paranormal activity in the air, but you kept pushing on. You needed to get away from that thing you saw.

"Anything was better than that," you would whisper to yourself in a dire attempt to console your erratically beating heart. A fleeting feeling rushed through you. The heavy atmosphere felt as if it was pushing against you, the weight of it putting pressure over the entire surface area of your body. Your thighs subconsciously rubbed against each other as your hands absentmindedly trailed down to your pelvis area. You didn't notice it before, but it felt full and overflowing, close to bursting. The heavy atmosphere made the need for relief more dire.

You whined loudly. Why did you need to go now of all times?

You rushed down the hallway, each step creaking loudly in protest as you pushed opened the door. You yelped after being greeted by another deceased form, two actually. One larger than the other as it held the smaller within its arms. Both their eyes were hollow and dark like the one before, but their facial skin had more integrity. It was off colored with hollow cheeks. Their clothes looked clean, almost too clean. What was more off putting was the familiarity of it. You screamed shaking your head vigorously as tears flowed out in streams with your body shaking in fear.

They were donning what you and Chan were wearing.

"How horrible," Chan grumbled gazing at the sight of two bodies before him. One was was upright against the wall with the other sprawled on the floor. The one sat up right had a dark stain on their dress shirt. The once white shirt now had a large black spot. The skin underneath looked raw and torn, the flesh looked ferociously torn open by a wild animal. The other body lying on the floor had a similar black stain along their jaw. The body had decayed enough where the skin shriveled and exposed the teeth, within the junction between two teeth had evidence of meaty flesh that used to be there.

Chan groaned in disgust as he leaned down to grasp at the discarded piece of parchment. The back was blank and had a dark browning blood smear. Chan turned the piece of parchment over to read the desperate chicken scratch. Most of it was illegible and covered by drying bits of blood and dirt.

"We… starving.

… food…

Itchy… scratchy…

Rock, paper, scissors

Loser… eats winner."

"Oh my fucking god," Chan exclaimed tossing aside the scrap note. "This has got to be a sick joke."

Chan shuddered momentarily as he continued down his hallway trying to make his way to you. Chan wasn’t really the type to believe in the paranormal. Sure, Chan liked to indulge in the superstitions and the good scare of ghost stories (much to your dismay), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he believes in them. The whole building seemed to look in complete disrepair as if not a single soul has been here for years. The entire place was silent, more or less, the only noises that permeated throughout the entire building were the muffled thunderstorm outside, the building settling and himself. Chan’s entire body stiffened as a cold chill ran down his spine. A low moaning came and went like it wasn’t even there. Chan whipped around to check his behind only to see nothing out of the ordinary. Soft gurgling could be heard, similar to someone gurgling their mouth with mouthwash. Chan whipped around once more, each noise came and went but it sounded like it was directly behind him.

“What is this bullshit?” Chan mumbled under his breath, turning back the way he was originally going. His breath hitched when he noticed a figure of a small child glowing a pale blue at the end of the hallway. Chan’s eyes widen as he blinked repeatedly.

“No,” Chan spat. “I am not seeing ghosts.”

The same gurgling sound could be heard from the child. Chan gulped once he finally took in the child’s entire appearance. The child was wearing what used to be a white sweater, the white now painted a brilliant red along with a simple pleated skirt, knee high socks and black flats-- standard elementary uniform. While her body seems physically unharmed, her head was an entirely different story. Chan froze in place as he felt as if his feet were nailed to the ground. The girl trudged towards Chan with a slight wobble and limp to her step. A bloodied hand was outreached trying to grasp at Chan as she walked closer. Chan’s jaw went slack staring directly at the girl, everything jaw up was missing. It was a painful sight. The skin looked red and raw, the anatomical evidence of the upper mandible and the upper vertebrates of the spine was gone. Pieces of hair were desperately holding onto the missing skin of the neckline and the skin desperately looked like it was ready to roll back down as if you wore pants with too loose of a waist band. The flatness of it was horrendous, the lower half of her head look as if it was displaying the lower jaw and tongue on a rouge serving platter.

Another loud scream broke him from his trance. Your scream.

The headless girl still walked over towards Chan every so slightly with an arm outstretched with gurgling noises coming from the blood bubbling in her esophagus. Even if the danger before had a higher threat, his priority was you. Chan pushed forward sidestepping the girl, her tiny hands barely missed Chan as he rushed for the staircase behind her. Chan barreled down the stairs, his left hand holding on the railing using it as leverage to swing around the staircase. Chan let out a pained yelped as his fingers sliced on something. Chan stopped where he stood to examine his fingers. A huge gash was lined diagonally beginning from his index down to his middle as the blood spewed out in rivers of red as it dripped to the floor.

“Ah, shit. Shit, shit, shit,” Chan cursed grasping at his fingers trying to stop the blood flow. Upon closer inspection, Chan noticed a singular nail protruding out of the hand rail. A bundle of piano wire was gathered around the metal objects as it stretched out to the wall opposite. A small portion of the wire was dyed red with Chan’s blood as a singular drop fell towards the floor.

“What the fuck?” Chan breathed out, analyzing the wire. His uninjured hand ghosted over the wire wincing by how sharp it was. It was thin, almost transparent to the naked eye. Only upon close inspection with a critical eye, would one see the metal wire.

“That’s fucked up,” Chan ducked under that metal wire to continue on.

What you don’t know, can’t hurt anyone right?

You were currently waddling with your thighs being pushed together as you desperately trying to hold it in. You had some pride within you, you wouldn’t be able to live it down if you had to squat in the corner to relieve yourself. Even if Chan never knew about it, you can practically hear Chan clowning you about it for the rest of your life.

“Oh my god, yes! Thank you!” you sighed as your bolted toward the restroom with a sign that displayed a silhouette in a skirt. Your hand reached for the handle when a familiar voice from within stopped you. It was an old fashioned knob with an old fashioned keyhole. You kneeled down peek through the keyhole. As you expected, the voice was indeed familiar. You could see Chan standing before a stall. His head was hung low slightly. You noticed there was someone in the stall Chan was standing in front of, but you couldn’t see or hear who it was. Only parts of her front were peeking out of the stall, you can faintly see the outline of the figure standing on a bucket with their arms rope bound before her. You could also make out a rope tied to the ceiling.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you panicked as your heart raced in your chest. You watch Chan without hesitation kick the bucket from under the figure as their bound hands flew to their neck. “Oh god. Channie, why?” you wailed out. You gasped when you see Chan turn his head towards the door, his eyes were hidden behind his fringes that were matte and almost sticking to his forehead.

Whimpering lightly, you stumbled backwards totally ignoring the need to relieve yourself as adrenaline rushed through your system. Quickly getting up to your feet, you sprinted the other way, ducking into the first hallway you passed. Your eyes were clenched shut as you blindly sprinted the other direction. The sound of your erratic heartbeat was thundering loudly in your ears as you heard heavy footsteps behind you.

You screamed when you collided with a hard chest. The impact sending you falling to the ground with you landing on your butt ungracefully.

“Y/N?” the voice called out to you. You felt his hand gently grasping your arm.

“No! Let me go!” you wailed, kicking at your assailant.

“Y/N? Y/N! It’s me, Chan! It’s ok, I got you!” he tried to calm you down by grasping at both your flailing arms.

Your eyes cracked open to the man before you. How did he end up ahead of you? You didn’t even stop to consider that he actually looks different. Unlike the Chan you saw just moments before, this Chan actually had a head injury-- red, raw, puffy and bleeding and his fringe was still styled up and out of his face exposing his forehead and eyes.

However, the murder you had witnessed was still fresh in your mind. You screamed and thrashed within Chan’s grip who was desperately trying to ground you in reality. Your breathing was getting ragged and breathy as panic struck. You watched Chan murder someone, what if he was going to murder you too?

“It’s ok. It’s ok, Y/N. Just breathe!” Chan spoke calmly trying not to prod at your panic attack. “Y/-”

You managed to release your dominant arm from his grip and gave him a firm blow to the jaw with your fist and kicking him off of you, by landing a swift harsh kick to his torso knocking the air out of his lungs and him flying backwards. Chan was coughing roughly from the harsh attack.

“Y/-” he coughed, interrupting himself mid sentence. You got up, jumping over his downed body and sprinted down the hallway.

“Wait! Y/N!” Chan called out to you as he stood up to follow.

“Get away from me!”

“Why? Y/N, wait! Talk to me, please!”

“No! No! No! Leave me alone!” you bawled, your voice cracking after every word. You pulled open the door to the stairway and ran up the stairs. The door swinging shut behind you as Chan’s eyes widen in horror remembering what was there.

“Y/N! DUCK!” Chan screamed out desperately.

“What?” you breathed out.

Thump.

Chan’s heart skipped a beat as he stopped before the door. Suddenly he felt as if he was a fly ensnared in a fly trap. His legs were heavy as if gravity had his ankles in a vice grip.

“Y/N?” Chan whispered out, his voice betrayed him.

“Y/N?” he called out once more weeping.

He willed his legs to move even if they so desperately want to stay rooted to the ground. With trembling hands, he wrapped his fingers around the door handle and slowly pulled the door open. His heart was trembling in his chest as he feared what was going to be revealed behind the door.

“No, no, no,” Chan weeped shaking his head. His face scrunched up as his lips parted to weep and his eyes welled with tears. A strong stench of urine filled his nose. Your body was slumped over the incline of stairs with a leg bent awkwardly in an unnatural direction, a puddle of liquid pooling just below your pelvis. Your eyes were wide staring straight at him as your jaw went slack. Your cheeks were decorated by the recently running tears. From the piano wire suspended in between the wall and the railing, a section was red and dripping as your head rolled, bouncing pathetically down each step like a deflated ball with it stopping by his feet.

“Hey there! Do you want to play ball with me?” you called out with a toothy smile, showing off the gap between your teeth proudly.

Ugly screams ripped through his vocal chords. Chan’s cries of despair, mourning and pure raw emotion kept coming out. His voice reverberated throughout the walls. Chan fell to his knees, his hands grasping at his locks pulling at it as he kept screaming. His eyes were wide as his gaze couldn’t focus on anything other than your lifeless orbs.

Stood atop the stairway as the familiar headless specter in blue. Chan looked at her in horror as tears free fell from his eyes. She outreached her hand again, but this time something was within her small grasp. Chan recognized the faux leather material, the smiling faces of you and Chan was shown from the display pocket of your wallet. In her other hand, the bottomless paper doll that was yours. Chan can feel the weightless paper scrap securely stored in his wallet weighing down his pocket.

“Cool,” Chan smiled. “So how do we do it?”

You held up the paper doll. “We need at least two people in order to do the charm.”

We need at least two people in order to escape.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids angst #stray kids chan #bang chan #skz chan #stray kids imagines #chan

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jacksficrecs · 5 years

Text

In Hopes That You Remember Me - Chapter One

PROMPT: Tony in the Hospital + Steve being guilty

A/N: This is one of my first attempts to learn how to write a decent story again. Enjoy.

POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNINGS: [for the rest of the story] Depression, Trauma, Amnesia, Comatose

STATUS: Ongoing, Unedited

---

Steve has never felt this nervous before.

He stared at himself in the mirror, water dripping from his chin. Tonight was the night.

He remembered the day his relationship with Tony was revealed to the public. Tony had decided it was a good time to sneak a kiss on the taller man's cheek while they looked around a quaint little bookstore just some blocks away from the tower. They could have bought books online, but you know, going outside every once in a while is never a bad thing. Of course, someone had spotted them, took several pictures of him pulling the brunette into a hug and offering a kiss on the forehead before stepping back to take another book of the shelf, he presumed. The next thing they new, it was all over the web. It was posted on any social media platform you can name, and unsurprisingly enough, it gained a lot of attention. Steve wasn't ready to 'come out of the closet' yet, as they say, but he didn't have much of a choice. The public already found out, so he might as well confirm their speculations.

'Steve Rogers and Tony Stark: The Most Iconic Power Couple of the Month'

The two read the article together. It was amusing, to say the least. Very amusing to see the media go crazy over a gay superhero couple. Kind of upsetting to see the close-minded people rant over how they're setting a bad example for the younger generation that looked up to them. Homophobia could never be erased, he supposed.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. "Knock, knock, Capsicle. You done putting on your makeup yet?" Tony hums from the other side. Steve simply smiled at that, shaking his head. "Hang on, Tony. I'll be out in a second." He responded, taking the towel he had hanging on the towel rack installed into the tiled wall and drying himself off. "You better be. I'm about to fall off what you're telling me to hang onto." Steve only chuckled quietly. This was the man he loved. This sarcastic little son of a bitch.

"Cap! Come on, snap out of it! We need you-" A voice calls from the distance, though he couldn't quite place who or where it was coming from.

"Ready for our first date?" The Stark smiled warmly when the blonde finally exits the bathroom, fully dressed in the blue suit Tony's picked out for him. "Ready as I'll ever be." Steve replied easily, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Still not going to tell me where we're going for tonight?" "No. Don't you know what a surprise is, Rogers?"

"Steve!" The same voice. Louder this time. What was happening?

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's go." Steve laughed, rolling his eyes as the shorter man led him towards the door with a big, content smile.

---

"Steve." His eyes opened. He was back in the real world. Gunshots were heard. Explosions. The familiar whine of the Iron Man suit's repulsors powering itself up into the air. "Wh- What-" The blonde started questioning the events, eyes bleary as he tried to process who he was talking to. Natasha. "Steve. You're alright." The redhead sighed in relief, eyes scanning the blonde for any serious issues. "Nat-" He mumbles, swallowing the knot in his throat. It's all coming back to him now. He was in the middle of a battle. He was supposed to be fighting off his HYDRA twin. Speaking of the guy, where was he?

And what did he do to him?

"Steve. I need you to tell me what he did." Her green eyes were full of worry. "What did you see?" "First date with Tony." He answered quickly, grunting as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He needs to get back into the fight. The others needed him. They needed his help. "Reenaction." The blonde added, forcing himself to stand, using his shield to assist him. God, everything hurt. "Steve, wait," She places a hand on his arm. Steve's attention shifts back towards the spy accompanying him. The earth shakes, and the hulk's yells were heard from a distance. "Nat, we need to get back to-" "Steve. What do you remember him doing? What was the last thing you remember him doing to trigger... Whatever happened to you?" She questioned. It really did seem like an important question. He stood silent for a moment, eyebrows knitting together as he dug through his scattered thoughts and memories, trying to pull something out. "I-"

"Steve?" He turns his head. Natasha. But Natasha was right there, right beside him. He looks back at the redhead that still had her hand resting on his arm. She didn't have the scar from the last fight on her collarbone. He reacted immediately.

Nat's double landed a hard hit on his temple.

All went black.

---

There was a painful ringing in his ears.

Dazed, Steve opens his eyes, finding himself on the ground, in the middle of a battlefield, with large pieces of debris scattered around him. Since when did he get there? Was the fight over? Head pounding and ears still ringing, he struggles to prop himself up on his elbows to get a clearer view of his surroundings. How long has he been lying there? There was a fire in the distance, or at least, he assumed there was judging by the smoke rising up into the sky. A quinjet had crashed nearby and was a total wreck, leaving several of its pieces everywhere. There wasn't really a lot happening by this point. A couple of tree branches were scattered here and there, and glass and concrete from the few buildings (that were very tall, mind you) decorated the ground. Clint was on the other side of the field, helping Natasha back on her feet. The Hulk was nowhere to be seen, probably off to calm himself down, and Thor was somewhere in the sky, as indicated by the low rumble of thunder off in the distance. Why he was still up there, he didn't know. All he knew was that the battle was over. Thank God. Everything seemed okay.

And then, the realization hits him.

Tony. He wasn't there. He wasn't anywhere to be seen.

With a quiet huff, he pushed himself off the ground a bit too quickly, resulting in a bad headache and a brief moment of vertigo, but he really couldn't care enough. All he could think of was Tony's whereabouts and his well-being. God, what if he's hurt? Disregarding the pain he felt in almost every part of his body and the fact that breathing was just painful, he immediately went to approach both the Black Widow and her good friend, Hawkeye with a bit of a grimace. "Barton, Romanoff." The blonde greets the two, his voice sounding rather hoarse. "Captain." The two spies nod, casually brushing themselves off as if they'd done nothing but trip. "Any of you know where Iron Man's gone?" He asked, his gloved hands finding their way to the belt strapped around his waist. "Nope," Natasha replied simply. "Last time I saw him he was up in the air dancing with his evil twin." Steve's heart dropped. Where could they have gone then?

Once HYDRA got their hands on Tony, they were in big trouble. That man stores a lot of important information in his head. If they ever got it out of him, the team (and probably the entire human race) will be royally fucked. The Avengers will no longer be seen as heroes. Their reputations will drop like a boulder in water as soon as HYDRA released their 'new and improved' creations. Their counterparts. Hell, they might even be stronger than the actual Avengers. IF they got everything out of Tony. But Steve doubts that'll ever happen. Tony was a strong man. And painfully stubborn, might he add. But HYDRA had their ways to get someone to comply. Mind-Control, Brainwash, Torture, you name it. Tony might be strong, but one of their methods could potentially break him. He ran a hand through the tousled nest of hair resting on top of his head, releasing a heavy, painful sigh as his gaze shifts to the ground. "Right. Okay, Thank you. Um... Go contact SHIELD for me, will you? I have a feeling we weren't the only ones here when our 'friends' came for a visit." The Captain says, letting a bit of a commanding tone lace into his voice, trying to maintain the 'Leader' image he was supposed to have even though he knew it was useless. Clint and Natasha knew just how scared he was. He was fucking terrified. Worried. Hell, he was panicking. He just had to find Tony. He had to.

Both spies replied with simple 'Alright's and 'Okay's, sharing a look before going off to deliver his commands while checking around to see if there were any poor souls that needed their assistance. Steve's gone off to look for that one brunette that always seemed to be getting in trouble. With a throbbing headache and hell-giving rib, he goes on to search for his lovely idiot.

---

"Steve!" Natasha's voice crackled through the earpiece. "Yeah?" "It's Tony. We found him." She sounded almost breathless as if she just ran a marathon. Three, actually. "What? Where?" He asks, his heart suddenly picking up the speed as he leaves the injured man he pulled out from under some rubble in the care of the parademics, turning to take another scan of the field where a major clean-up process organized by SHIELD was taking place. "Your three o'clock. Parademics are taking care of him. He's breathing, but..." Her worry was palpable by the way she speaks, and at that, Steve suddenly felt like he wasn't going to like what he was about to discover. Was it bad? What happened to him? "I think you should see for yourself. It's not that horrible, but it's... Something." She didn't know how to say it. She didn't want to be the one to deliver the bad news. "Yeah, okay. I'm coming." Comes his simple reply, voice breaking, spotting the redhead near a group of uniformed parademics who offered a small wave at the captain. The blonde jogs his way over, worry and fear becoming more and more noticeable as he got closer. The Iron Man suit lies near a pile of rubble, lifeless, the blue in its eyes, reactor and repulsors non-existent. A large chunk of the titanium-alloy armor was missing, probably shot off. In other words, it was in pretty bad shape. And then there was Tony himself, eyes closed, breathing slow and not so steady, blood staining the ripped clothes he barely managed to throw on before the battle was called, red staining the side of his head, seeping out onto the ground where he lay. There was quite a lot of bustle as they worked to track the brunette's wounds and give them attention, which they did in record time. Steve's heart practically broke. In all the battles they've fought together, he's never seen Tony in this state, and that was beyond terrifying. Natasha appeared beside the taller blonde, smiling rather sadly. "I'm sorry, Steve. He'll be alright. He'll be back to himself in no time, alright?" She says, in a fruitless effort to comfort him. The supersoldier couldn't speak, so he simply nodded, eyes still set on the brunette in the parademics' care.

The next few hours were a blur of activity. The EMTs taking Tony into an ambulance, requesting a teammate to tag along (Steve did just that, telling the others to still report to Fury on their behalf, asked them to tell the director what had happened, that he would get in touch as soon as news comes available), the brunette being taken to the OR, leaving the Captain to wait anxiously. He was seated on one of the armchairs set against the wall, bothered by the fact that he was still wearing his uniform, not as clean as he'd like to be. He received some treatment for his own minor wounds (well, as minor as a broken rib can go), and he was very much thankful for that despite knowing they would be gone in a few hours. The blonde's shield rests against the wall, occupying the empty space behind him as he fiddles with the pages of those magazines the hospital provided, trying his best to reassure himself that Tony would walk away from this just fine. Occasionally, a child and an adult would enter the room, with the kid eyeing the supersoldier curiously, probably wondering why he was here, of all places. At least, that's what he assumed. He did hear about some children talking about how superheroes didn't need anyone to give them medical attention because they were so 'cool' and 'strong'. It didn't make much sense, but he let them believe what they want to believe.

Time went on, and Steve spent it suffering quietly with everyone that went in and out of the waiting room. He was growing restless, but he refused to leave Tony. He will wait as long as he needed to for Tony's reappearance.

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mehonaspace · 2 years

Text

Depression - Sickness Of The Soul

Another day of heavy rain showers hit Sydney's streets. Pedestrians cling desperately to their umbrellas but are betrayed as the wind continues to flick them around. As the rain stops, the humidity in the air takes over as a dominant sensation, rewarding those that chose today to walk the streets in lighter outfits.

From the upper level of my hotel room, I overlook the crossing of streets outside. I watch as men in construction clothes, business people, students and mothers with prams hastily pass by. The pace of their footsteps reveals one common trait - they all walk in purpose!

Everyone carries a goal with them that they adhere to. Some are on the way to work; others may meet friends and family or run errands. Whatever it may be, "purpose" casts the determination into their existence.

For a segment of their time, life is filled with... something. Something that leads to something else, hits the mark or fulfils a goal. As humans, it seems to me that we feel weirdly satisfied only if we have a meaning or role assigned to us. Most of us play roles we don't even like, but as long as we have a feeling of purpose, we play our part with the passion of a professional actor.

What would happen if we let go of the need for purpose?

I hover over the scenery with a pensive gaze as I suddenly realise the tall tree in front of my window. Its leaves chirp eager in the wind while the branches rock steadily to a calmer rhythm.

It is most likely that the city planted this tree here to green the place, providing shade and adding to a cleaner environment. Whatever purpose we may have given it, the tree stands tall now and grows independently from our opinion within its own reason. The more I look at the sprinkles of nature planted around the buildings, the more I can feel a majestic and captivating presence emanating from it.

I pull my attention back to the somewhat vibrant street life and come to realise that nobody looks up or around. All are trapped in some kind of tunnel view, following their goal or being sucked into the seductive realities our digital century provides.

I remember at this point the latest news headlines: Russia at war with Ukraine!

After numerous Covid updates dominated the media for the past two years, divided nations and locked us anxiously in our homes, we arise to the reports of more conflict and political games and machinery. Through the power of social media, we can now raise our voice, listen to opinions and most and for all side, where we want to stand on the topics that rattle the world.

A feeling of exhaustion streams through me as I think of it. The game of conflicting poles, and the need to side with any of them feels old and doesn't resonate with my understanding of what life is about.

Up here in my hotel room, close to the sky, I am on the same level as the treetop in front of my window. How different the perspective if you watch the world from above...

Today, I was supposed to start my new job as a fitness trainer but had to finish intensive online training on the brand, customer service procedures, and policies before my first shift. Going through the material, I face the standardised corporate attempt to force me into a specific behaviour while adding as much workload on you within the most diminutive time frame.

The efforts, research, and scripts to make customers feel looked after and valued are inspiring. However, along the way, it seems that the strict focus on customer well-being over staff health became silently but undeniably the unbalanced norm of today's society.

The demands of industries such as hospitality, for example, are famous for cutting you off your social freedom and expect you to make sacrifices for your boss, the company and, of course - the customer.

The health industry had nurses worldwide increasingly fighting for lives with little changes to improve their wages or work conditions.

I see no difference in the way we let our current system treat us compared to the inhumane conditions we apply in our food production industry.

We spent most of our life cramped within the fencing of our work environment, letting money-making concepts suck blood, sweat and grace out of our existence and having medication, drugs, or bad habits treat the results of our broken spirits.

On a global scale, in terms of individual choices, living in the western world represents nothing but the "free-range" livestock experience compared to the somewhat confined life conditions provided in other parts of the world.

If we follow the notion of "freedom in the western world", it is baffling to see how mentally, physically and energetically broken people living there are. While depression is a worldwide phenomenon, it seems that the luxury of a broader palette of life choices to suit individuality also leads to a greater sensitivity if something is out of alignment with what we want.

In other words, the greater the opportunity to delve deeper into who we are, plus being fortunate to explore our dreams and desires, the more obvious and heavy weigh the assigned roles and goals that won't lead us to express our authentic selves.

Western lifestyle is less about living a good life but more focused on finding purpose amidst an abundance of triggers for our ego.

I live currently in Australia, and the number of young people proudly stating the amount of different medication they ingest daily to cope with depression is concerning. It is good that we make it socially acceptable to have discussions about mental health; however, it is frightening to see that instead of changing the system we live in, we mute our spirit to cope with the distorted demands that cause those problems.

I firmly believe this is the challenge of our generation and timeline. As mentioned before, we don't just exploit our animals to feed our questionable needs; we apply the same treatment to ourselves and end up just as exhausted and broken. The first step to break that generational cycle of soul abuse is to become aware of it.

A rather uncomfortable phase, as most of us, can tell.

Once you are aware of how much you force your soul to keep up with the inhumane conditions we commonly accept as our living environment, you tend to become depressed.

The more you get to know the freedom of your spirit and the sensuality of your soul, the less tolerable is a life outside of this natural condition.

At first, you try to cope and fit in. Others before you were able to make a living here on this planet, so why can't you?

As you try to keep up with what life demands, you swing in and out of emotional distress until, once again, life becomes unbearable. You reach rock bottom, your ego shatters, and the empty image you tried to uphold sweeps away with the new wave of realisation that just hit you.

A life out of alignment with your core just doesn't fulfill you anymore!

Your mind might not be able to pinpoint the direction to go from here, but your soul clearly doesn't want to live like this.

You witness your peers, friends and family being somewhat able to make it through life, but you also notice the drama and noise they carry around and load upon each other.

Suddenly, the difference in life approach and perspective between human and soul becomes more prevailing. You start to detach from common social activities or people around you and find greater comfort within your own energy. You tip-toe into what it means to be yourself and realise how certain habits, belief systems and aspects governed your life decisions. It is here that you start the subtle process of integrating your mind conditioned humanness into a new self-awareness: a soul-guided existence.

The soul doesn't care about your income, status, or ego. The soul wants to reach out to life with the ability to take it in on levels that make it sing and dance to wind and rain like the tree branches attached to its divine root. Nature grows gracefully in its spirit, and its trees stand tall and proud, overshadowing our human concerns. Unbothered by what we think their purpose should be, they radiate a presence so significant that doctors advise us to walk in nature to recharge ourselves.

Given that, in simple terms, a tree does nothing but stand in one place and grow, it is most interesting that, as humans with all our abilities, we rarely come to radiate such a majestic aura. At least not until we come in contact with who we truly are.

This is a journey of self-discovery I see most people on at the moment. It is a difficult path because it requires looking within to find answers that truly represent you. The road leads through the challenges of self-acceptance, self-love, trust in your own wisdom and allowing - without judgement what unfolds from there.

The tools of the old human do not apply on this journey as it requires you to open up and allow a greater awareness of who you are to create the next moment. Along the way, new elements of yourself reveal themselves to you - Senses that help you have compassion and a deeper understanding and knowingness for your path, which help make the process easier.

Those personal journeys are necessary to turn the world into the place our souls long for. You cannot keep walking on the main road if you want to explore a new path...

The journey to individual sovereignty is frightening as you ship through the ocean of mass consciousness. Know that it is you who masters the sea your own. Calm the storm by allowing what is and letting the soul guide the sails. Dare to let go of a purpose and let what is you naturally come forward to play with creation.

And eventually, the human said: "Dear soul, wherever you go, I follow!"

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