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cinnamonmilf · 13 days

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summary: you meet ellie in a dream

cw: reader mentions she is an english lit major if u don't like it imagine she said it was the major of your choice, flirty friendship but no dating yet (repost from old account)

BEFORE YOU READ!!!:

WHY BOYCOTT TLOU PALESTINE LINKS DAILY CLICK

"Before you speak don't move 'cause i don't wanna wakeup"

The bright light was making it hard to keep your eyes open, not a single cloud in sight. It was a beautiful place, there was no denying that. Spring had always been your favorite season: leafy trees, blooming flowers, green grass and sunny days. If spring was a place, this would be it.

You decided to explore it, feeling the soft breeze on your skin. There was a big meadow, with a beautiful forest next to it. The bushy green trees complimenting the flowery field. There was something about this place that was so peaceful. Like you were the only person in the world and everything worked for you, rather than against you.

It would be a shame to leave so soon, so you take a seat in between the flowers and take everything in. How could a place so beautiful exist?

Your tranquil state is quickly interrupted by the sound of the grass and dirt being step on. You turn your head to see who the culprit is: a freckley auburnette with big green eyes and, for lack of a better adjective, an angelic face. You were prepared to snap at whoever had taken the sweet blissful state away from you, but after seeing her there was no way.

She doesn't say a word. She sits next to you. You'd usually not even consider just letting a random stranger make their way to you and sit next to you but this felt different. Saying that you had never met this girl before was an understatement, yet it felt like seeing an old friend.

Her presence was warm and pleasant, you felt safe.

"If you are interrupting my moment shouldn't i at least know your name?" you ask her with a playful grin.

"Fair enough. I'm Ellie." She chuckles.

You tell her your name and she nods in acknowledgement.

"We haven't met, have we?" you inquire.

"Not that I'm aware, but it-"

"It feels like it," you complete her sentence before she can, earning a smile from her.

"Well, l've never seen you around here. Think I'd remember a pretty face like yours," she says will a smirk on her face. You scoff in response, finding her antics amusing.

"It's my first time here," you explain.

"Hmm, when you'd get here?"

"What?" You ask with a puzzled face. And suddenly you realize you can't remember how long you'd been here, let alone how you got here.

Before she can even answer your question you wake up by the obnoxious sound of your alarm.

7:00 a.m.

The dream was uneventful, to say the least, but there's something about it that makes you think about it over and over again throughout the day. It was one of those dreams that bring you unexplainable comfort, like a tender embrace, like feeling like a kid again, like feeling some sense of home in there.

And, well, of course there was Ellie. You kept trying to think if you'd seen her before. Her face plagued your thoughts the most. You'd never seen anyone like her, you'd never met anyone like her.

Something about her made you feel like you could spend hours and hours with her and still crave her company. It was ridiculous, you'd spend time how long with her? Fifteen minutes? And yet, you'd never felt that way with anyone before.

Alas, it was a dream. Just a dream. She was just a beautiful entity your psyche had created. Maybe your brain knew it's what you craved and was cruel enough to give it to you in the dream realm, only to get it taken away.

You realized it was useless to dwell on your dreams, so you ended up putting the thought of Ellie aside and continuing your day.

That was, until nighttime.

The warm ambience surrounded you once again and before you could take it all in, you heard that raspy voice that had been echoing in your mind all day.

"You left yesterday," she said.

"Had to go to school." You giggle at her frowny face. She rolled her eyes at you.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get to ask anything about you." And damn her flirty tone because it made you weak in the knees.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Just tell me about you." She shrugged.

"Well, I'm 21, I'm in college, I like cats, reading, animals in general, l like the color green and...I'm pretty boring, don't have much more to tell you.” You chuckle.

"I like green too."

"Really? That's your take on what i said?" You laugh.

"What was I supposed to say?" She protests with a laugh.

"Whatever," you roll your eyes at her now. "What about you?"

"Well, I'm 22, I'm also in college, I like space, science, comics," she tells you, not really sure what else to add on to the list.

"Space?"

"Yeah, like, planets and stars and Nasa and shit."

"Nice, is that your major?" you inquire further.

"Yeah, astrophysics.."

"Just how smart are you?" You ask. Frankly, surprised by the girl.

"Shut up." She laughs. "What about you?"

"English Lit." You explain.

"Suits you."

"Is that good?"

"Yeah, it's good." She responds with that cocky smile that you have grown to love in a couple minutes.

She had a sort of charm you hadn't really seen elsewhere. It was quite boyish and youthful. She had you a little mesmerized. It was quite stupid, considering you barely knew her, but it was true.

"Do you-" and before she could finish her question, you were once again sucked out of your dream.

You groan in annoyance. Annoyed from being woken up, but mostly by the cold morning air reminding you once again that she wasn't real.

Your brain was creative, you'd give it that. Astrophysics is something you didn't even know you could come up with.

You do the whole thing again. Get up, brush your teeth, go to school, try to pay attention to school even when you all could think of were Ellie's freckles and her peachy lips and her pretty dark lashes and the way she had a bun this time, rather than the half-up half-down hairstyle she had last time. Also, about the fact that she was going to ask you something. What was she going to ask you? You could only hope you'd be blessed tonight once more and be able to dream of her.

And so as the sun came down you prepared yourself to go to sleep.

"Please let me dream of her," you thought to yourself. Pleading your subconscious mind.

You don't know when you finally fell asleep, but you were once again in the forest you had began to grow fond of.

"You have a tendency of leaving mid conversation."

There she was.

You turned to face her, "I don't really control it, you know?" You laugh.

"Yeah yeah, whatever."

"What were you going to ask me yesterday?" You ask as you softly kick her foot with yours, an affectionate gesture.

She looks down at your feet, pleased by it. Did the smirk ever leave her face or was it permanently there?

"I was asking if you have a boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Ew no."

She laughs at your frowned eyebrows and your disgusted face.

"So you like girls?"

"Why? Are you gonna ask me out?"

You'd later cringe at your own question once awake. How on earth was she supposed to take you out?

"Maybe." She said nonchalantly.

"Right. Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Not to worry, all yours."

"You are kind of cocky, do you know that?"

"Oh, come on, you like it."

"Do I, now?" You ask with an incredulous chortle.

"I mean, you do get nervous every time, so l'd say so." She shrugged.

You could immediately feel your cheeks heating up. How could a girl make you lose your composure so easily.

"You are so annoying," you said, to which she just laughed.

Night became favorite time of the day from then on. All you did was repeat the cycle everyday: wakeup irritated, hope your day passed as quick as possible (not without reminiscing of your dream all day long), and go to sleep in hopes of dreaming of her again. And again.

And again. Which, to your surprise, you did. Every single night you dreamt of her.

Somehow your dreams went from feeling like minutes with Ellie, to feeling like a hours. In which you talked about everything.

She was the most fascinating person you'd ever encountered. She was smart as hell, funny, kind and of course, had that little cockiness that never really left her side. Which -she was right- you did really like.

Your dreams had always been quite vivid, but you had never appreciated it until now. You were able to really examine her face, hear her voice clearly, see the detail on her tattoo. You'd feel her hand against yours when you walked around the place, or her hair on your fingers as you raked them through her hair when she'd lied on your lap. Nonetheless, it was always accompanied by that soft and warm glow that came with the dream. You could only imagine how much more you’d cherish it all in real life.

And that was the problem. You were completely and absolutely enamored by a girl in a dream. A girl that didn't even exist. But how could you go on with your life knowing you'd never find anyone like her, knowing the perfect girl for you was nowhere to be found?

Life started seeming unappealing to you. Taking class, hanging out with friends, going out. None of it made sense. All you could think of all day long was the night. Every single hour you spend awake seemed like one more hour of you and Ellie being apart. It was eating you alive and you were allowing it.

As dusk arrived you went straight to bed and let yourself fall into a deep slumber.

Your favorite girl was there, waiting for you. You went to hug her. Ellie hugged you back, allowing herself to relax into your arms.

"Missed you," you whispered.

"You say that everyday," she chuckled.

"I miss you everyday," you giggled in response.

She took your hand and the two of you began your stroll. Admiring the trees, the lustrous pond, the flowers. It never got old.

Today you were telling Ellie about school. You mentioned how you'd lost interest lately, not really bothering enough to commit to your studies as you used to.

"Why's that?" She asked.

"I don't know. I don't really care about much lately. Not school, not my friends, not reading." It mildly concerned Ellie, but she didn't say anything.

"You must care about something," she said as she nudged your shoulder.

"I care about being here with you." You shrugged.

"Yeah, but, something else." She insisted.

You shook your head. You didn't want to lie to Ellie. She was the one person you could talk to. And the truth was that she was the only thing to seem worthy of your attention as of late. "I just wanna be here with you all the time."

"It doesn't work like that, doll," she cooed as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You felt a tear trail down your cheek, one that Ellie was quick to gently wipe off with her thumb.

She held you for the rest of your time together.

The next morning you slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the change in lightening. You didn't feel vexed like every other day.

You had a tight knot on your chest that you couldn't explain. A fast-growing affliction that wasn't usually there.

After that night, you never dreamed of Ellie again.

It had been three months since you had last seen her. The first few weeks were pure agony.

There was a lot of crying and screaming involved. You were confused and angry and miserable. There was no way to fix it and you didn't even know what you were feeling.

There was no one you could talk to either. What were you supposed to say? That you fell for someone in a dream and now you couldn't deal with the fact that your brain wouldn't let you dream of her anymore?

You kept going to sleep every night hopeful of seeing her again, but it was completely useless. You eventually gave up, realizing it wasn't going to happen.

You were forced to resume your life. You focused yourself on studying, hanging out with your friends, going back to your beloved books. Everything was starting to go back to normal. And yet, there was not a single day where you didn't think of her.

You were headed to your favorite café. Wanting to get some studying done and leaving your apartment for a little bit. As you finally arrived, you settled on your favorite table, put your headphones on and got to work.

Truthfully, your table was a mess. Your computer open, books everywhere and sticky notes all over the place. But it helped you get the work done and that's what mattered most.

After a couple hours you decided to pack everything up and make your way back home, sleep finally sneaking its way up to you.

As you were walking out the door you heard steps hot on your trail.

"Hey, you left this."

Your turned around to see who the familiar voice belonged to. She was handing you a notebook, one you must've missed in the midst of your mess.

As you moved your eyes up to thank the kind stranger, you were met with those two piercing eyes that hadn't been able to leave your mind. The short haired girl with auburn hair, freckles and button nose was standing right in front of you, in the flesh.

It was Ellie.

a/n: hi this is a repost from my old account :) i’ll repost part 2 in a couple days and while i write part 3. hopefully it doesn’t flop massively

taglist @fleshunger @elsbunny222 @whore4abby

#works 𝜗ϱ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #ellie fluff #ellie williams fluff #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #wlw #lesbian #ellie williams fanfic

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katakaluptastrophy · 3 months

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Continuing to think about the horror of what happens to John, and the horrors of love...

When Alecto has first been created, she says to him "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" and "What have you done to me?"

They're heartbreaking questions she has every right to ask, but there's something awful and ironic about them too. Because John also might have asked "what have you done to me?"

It's easy to get distracted by the cartoonish awfulness of John's own narration: "talk about police abuse", "come on, love. Guys as careful as me don't have accidents," "love a working tram system." But all of these comments come after moments where John has unwittingly come into proximity with violent death, an experience he repeatedly likens to having drugs forcibly injected into him; an omniscient, dream-like, out of body experience that seems to propel him forward through his basest impulses. The first time this happens, he's brought back from "the verge of something insane" by being shaken violently by P-. Lines like these aren't revealing John's diabolical plotting. They're a man who would rather own atrocities as premeditated than admit that he was losing his grip.

The second is when he encounters the soul of the earth. His human mind makes contact with the incoherent, furious soul of a planet. In any other context, this would be straightforwardly Lovecraftian. And everything he describes after that is full of elipses, jumbled, and detached. His friends are shot by gun-toting cultists and he says it was like a dream.

Hearing the earth screaming, feeling his friends' deaths under his skin like a drug, he might well have asked "what have you done to me?"

Alecto said to him, "I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?" But as everything collapses, John says:

"I thought you were going to take me, somehow. Purge me. Use me as an instrument. But you didn't say anything...I was babbling, Show me. Come on. I'm ready. You kept screaming and screaming..."

John has spent months becoming something terrifying, an entity with yellow eyes and uncanny powers. He's discovered that death has an overwhelming impact on him that he cannot fully control. Everyone was relying on him to do something. And he did so many things: well-meaning things and stupid things and things that were lashing out in rage and frustration. Hundreds of people have died because of him. His friends have died because of him. Surely, surely there was a point to this. Surely there was meaning. Surely whatever did this to him, made him into this, had a greater plan.

But there is no plan. There is no great revelation. He tries to hurt the earth, to provoke some kind of answer, but the screaming continues. And when P dies, the person who snapped him out of it the last time, John lets go and the whole world dies.

John is kneeling on the grass vomiting up dirt and tearing out his own ribs, saying "there was still too much of me that was just a human being...", trying to swallow the soul of the earth. And by the end, the one shred he has to hold onto is a memory of playing with a doll as a child. That, and his anger...

The earth tried to reach out in the only way it could, amidst its incoherent suffering. And John tried to use the abilities it gave him, but he was only human. Fallible and proud and angry.

She said, "I still love you." And the horror; the horror of love, the horror of this story, is that to begin with they did this to each other.

To be clear: I don't mean to diminish the awfulness or the very specific forms that John's violence against Alecto takes, and continues to take across the story. I don't mean to excuse his own self-mythologisation. I certainly don't think he's blameless for the decisions he made and the agenda he pursued. But if there's one thing that happens over and over again in TLT, it's that the horror of love is not a one-way street.

And I wonder, in light of what we now know about the permeability of the soul, quite where John ends and Alecto begins. And when that blurring began...

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #john gaius #alecto the first #Can't wait to see what the Eldritch Alpha Couple get up to in ATN

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mix-art · 3 months

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Welcome to a colorful and wacky world.

🌈THE WORD OF DREAMS 🌈

Where everything impossible is possible just dream and smile.... Doesn't it sound fantastic?

In this colorful and bizarre world, everything is like your biggest dream and desire... Why would you leave?

Meet the partners! Cute creatures with crazy and unique designs also adapting to the unique personality of your best friend!

DEISY: a cuddly and stylish puppy plush toy! The biggest of the group, Deisy can't talk much, she only knows how to imitate sounds of her surroundings and say her name, she is the clumsiest and tends to trip over everything when walking.

BABO: a hairy monster with a very bad temper! With a very strong temperament, he is one of the tallest, Babo is very responsible although he likes to fight with his friend.

Felix: a charismatic teddy bear and monkey, he is slow thinking and tends to speak slurring his words, although he doesn't have much energy he is an expert at giving warm hugs.

Tati: a playful and cheerful little girl puppet! The smallest of the group, she is able to talk and do many activities even though her abilities and emotions are those of a five year old.

🌈BOSS 🌈

The owner and creator of this colorful and bizarre world full of dreams! Always with a smile ready to fulfill your biggest wish.

BOSS is not a human being.

He is an entity that can take on any appearance depending on his mood.

Although you will always see him in the appearance of an elegant man wearing a colorful and colorful suit.

The best friends of the partners!

Each one demonstrating their style and character. They are not perfect but they are full of dreams.

Know their nicknames!

Alexander: the displaced/new

David: the bitter one

Emilie: the giggler/ the crazy one

Elizabeth: the blonde/ Reyna bee

Marie: the lonely one

You too can be in this colorful world ! Just close your eyes and dream your biggest dream... Do you hear it?

Uuuf sorry if I was not so active but I came back mujajajajaja and with the excitement to tell you about my little project!!!! I will be uploading stuff, animations, comics and more !

Without more to say I hope you like it and I can make you smile!!!

I would really appreciate it if you share and comment !!!

#art #cute art #clown #original character #character art #proyectos #mundo colorido.#colorful #The Word of dreams #art digital #art clow

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eldritch-spouse · 3 months

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I love the idea of Zizz becoming obsessed with a lucid dreamer.

She talks to him about things she's too afraid to talk to other people about, rants about how tiresome her work is, and doing stupid shit while they wander a dreamscape she makes. Sometimes she fucks him if he doesn't take on a human appearance (realizing she's a monsterfucker). She thinks he is nothing more than a random figment formed from their dreams, enjoying these moments that will be gone by the morning.

Zizz keeps getting drawn to her, the more time he spends, the harder he falls for her.

[Aaah, this is a cute idea. Reader is ambiguous.]

The first night, you didn't know what was happening.

There was a presence in your dream, you felt it as soon as it invaded the sanctity of your slumber. A thick shadow lurking in the halls of the manor you spent so long visualizing during waking hours just so you could bring it into your dreams.

Curiosity led you to follow that strange pull. You didn't consciously manifest anything or anyone yet, so what could it be that your brain cooked up on its own?

It seemed to be wandering, and the closer you got to it, the louder these slow thumps could be heard, footsteps making aged wooden floorboards creak in protest. The parts of your dream where this thing dwelled seemed to become somehow more vivid than the ones you created, as if it were breathing life into them. Your curious search becomes a frantic chase when you catch the outline of something massive turning the corner.

Was the manor this complex? Were there these many halls?

No, you remember it being smaller. Is it... Changing its location? Changing your dream? This has to be the product of your sudden distraction. Yes, that's it.

You remember the way you stopped breathing when you opened a door, only to see him pass by.

What you can only describe as a giant demonic entity, with pallid, ash-like skin and a great veil over its horned face. A thin tail that ended in a crescent shape swaying lazily behind a masculine inhuman figure.

Between the shock and fear, you could only watch it trudge to another division, uncaring of your presence.

Your lungs start working again, on the first desperate gasp-

You wake up.

The second time, he laughed.

Some time had passed.

You never truly felt all that comfortable in your own dreamscapes after that odd encounter and, strangely, even if you remembered the sight of that demonoid so clearly, manifesting him was proving itself to be harder than expected.

You felt like you needed to bring him back, if only because his appearance left more questions than answers, and that encounter begged some clarifications.

The versions you did manage to create always seemed oddly deformed, as if you were a novice at this.

Tonight, you were dedicating your time to making him reappear, which led you to a mostly white space devoid of features beyond a floor, and the several copies of the entity you are failing to put together.

Some are discolored. Others have too many horns, the one in the corner is... Melting? The latest keeps disappearing and popping up in random spots. None of them are behaving at all, just standing there like mockeries of statues.

They feel so fake, so paper-like, cheap imitations of something that felt so powerful and perfect! Like there really was another person in your dream...

You're getting frustrated.

It's a pointless effort born out of a spook.

After what feels like an eternity of populating an endless landscape with grotesque reflections, you simply sit down and watch them fail miserably at existing.

Except... A new one emerges from the back of a swaying, greenish copy.

It looks around, tensing, as if perturbed by something, then casts its gaze to the clones surrounding it.

You didn't make that one. Not willingly. It's... It's too perfect, he looks exactly like the demon you saw, down to a T! Even the little glowing blob on his head, that's him! That's... Him. The real one. Oh fuck.

Horrified yet oddly gleeful, you simply stay very still and watch everything unfold.

The giant demon begins exploring once more, touching the flawed versions of himself he comes across. The ones that seem to particularly disturb him are waved at, and with the simple gesture, disappear entirely. Although you cannot see his face, his tail swats quickly behind the monster's body, it's clear he's at least amused by what he's seeing.

One second he's moving to the nearest malformed abomination, the next you blink and he's standing still, fixed on you. There's no doubt he's spotted you sitting cross-legged like an idiot, you bet you stick out like a sore thumb.

It felt like hours passed in that silent locking of stares. This time, you remember to breathe. But your mouth certainly won't open. And he doesn't utter a word either, resuming his perusing.

Finally, he spots the one whose clothes keep flickering in and out of place. You don't know why it's like that, and it embarrasses you. Your brain can guess the general body type and coloration of the demon given he doesn't cover all that much, but it has no way of knowing what his genitals look like, so your mind is visibly cycling through possibilities.

Seeing himself naked, with a variety of ridiculous genital equipment, the entity invading your dream starts to shake slightly.

You fear you might have greatly offended him without meaning to, but then, this sound starts bouncing off non-existent walls until it reaches you.

A melodic sort of chuckling that fills you with some unknown lulling tingle, rising into amused, helpless belly laughter, cackling. His head throws back and his shoulders quake. It's the only thing you can focus on, a voice so clear and so distinct, something you've never heard before. How incredible.

Well... At least he finds it funny? Good, that's. Good. You guess.

When the noise dies down, you find him looking at you again.

The flustered tightening of your belly is probably what woke you up.

The third time, he spoke to you.

It must not have been more than a week.

You think he's lurking around more often, because you're starting to pick up on the way his presence alters the spaces around him, makes them feel all the more immersive.

This time, you were creating a garden, picking the flowers you'll put in a variety of plots.

When you head to the little gazebo in the center, you find that not only has it increased twofold in size, he is sitting at the table you placed there.

The demon seems calm, legs spread, one hand resting on the table, the other holding his covered head as he watches you freeze.

Your first instinct is to turn back and pretend he's not there, to walk away, maybe try shoving him out of the dreamscape. But do you really want to?

" Stay. " He beckons, the moment you take a step back.

" Who are you? " Is instantly shot back.

The monster leans back on his seat, the clawed hand previously resting rises, and with a snap, day turns into night, a brilliant sky with millions of stars and swirling cool hues.

It's nothing short of gorgeous.

At this point, you think he has more control of your dream than you.

As if to prove that, the chair opposing him slides back, and he tips his head towards it, waving.

" I like your dreams. " The demon starts. " You're interesting. "

" ... Thank you? " Because what else are you supposed to say.

" Sit. " He beckons again. " Talk to me tonight. "

You didn't believe it.

Didn't believe who he said he was.

How he managed to enter your dreams.

Didn't believe that someone like him could ever find you worth any time.

You chalked it up to total madness, and took the entire conversation as a humorous game, laughing when it seemed as if he was getting almost enamored with you.

After an admittedly delightful night sharing drinks he had conjured for the two of you, Zizz sighs and tells you that it's time for you to wake up.

You're about to ask how he would know such when he leans forward to gently tip the glass up to your lips, and the richness of your favorite drink is the last thing you feel before it all fades away.

Tonight, he offered to take you into one of his dreamscapes.

A smile in his words and a shine to the soft paw he extended your way convinced you to accept the offer.

Maybe the way he purred and whispered your name like a prayer should have been warning enough that you were playing a dangerous game.

It's been hours. A day? Too long. Longer than you've ever been dreaming for. Tracking time is harder in a location you have no control over.

This is a very beautiful royal mansion, and you've been having lots of fun spending time with Zizz in it and all...

But you'd like to wake up.

It's not happening. You can't bring yourself out of the lucid dream. You... You're stuck.

When a quiet moment falls between the two of you, a small hand taps the supposed demonlord's arm.

" Zizz? "

" Mmm? "

There's a gulp. " ... I need to wake up. "

Seconds bleed into what must have been a minute of complete silence.

Until his palm lands on your head and he affectionately combs over your hair, leading you forward beside him as you're about to enter his dreamscape's bedroom.

Claws tighten on the skin of your scalp.

" Don't be silly. "

#Zizz oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #monster boyfriend #yandere demon #monster x reader #not sfw #minors dni #monsterfucker #terato tag

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ddarker-dreams · 9 months

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A Chance Encounter.

Yan Scaramouche x Reader.

Loosely based on this concept.

Warnings: Only light yandere themes since Reader doesn't know about Scara's Harbinger affiliation. Word count: 1.1k.

Scaramouche could succinctly describe this assignment as a pain.

Some whistleblower whose conscience got the better of her in retirement, realizing now that she’s living off a measly pension instead of a steady stream of income that perhaps experimentation on unwitting subjects is actually not so dandy. How convenient. Moral epiphanies have the best timing. Or in the Harbinger’s case, the worst timing, since this trip to Mondstadt was supposed to be for pleasure, not business.

He occupies a space beneath a sizable canopy. Shadows swallow him, occasionally chased off by shy sunlight wriggling through interstices born from the steady wind. The weather is fair compared to the everlasting winter that wrings all life from Snezhnaya. This nation is perfectly idyllic, perfectly boring, save for a single inhabitant who is notably exempt from his criticism.

If it weren’t for the invisible yet no less present Fatui agents slinking about, he’d give in to the urge to quirk his lips upward.

At least when this is wrapped up, he can see you.

The matter shouldn’t take much longer. In written correspondence with the would-be traitor, he played the role of a bleeding heart, successfully blindsiding her into thinking he shares her plight. Now all that remains is to meet up with her and discern if the supposedly damning documents hold any weight or not. The rest can be left to his lackeys, he’d rather not waste any more time when he could be engaging in far more enjoyable activities.

This is about as cut and dry as it gets.

Except…

Rapid footsteps approach.

Foliage crunches beneath the heel of an exuberant individual, smothering leaves and snapping twigs.

“Kuuuuuniiiiiii!” A voice he knows very well calls out.

There is but a single entity throughout all of Teyvat who actively runs toward him, not away from him, and this entity so happens to be you. The concept of shame is a foreign one, you’re far too concerned with utilizing various flourishes to capture his attention. The fanfare is without reason. The instant you enter the scene, Scaramouche scarcely remembers the rest of the world exists, it becomes as inconsequential as the ground he treads on.

You are a fallen star streaming through the sky, an answer to a wish he never had the courage to make.

Unfortunately, you’ve happened upon him at a tricky juncture. The Fatui swarming like sharks in the water are prepared to tear into you at his command. From their perspective, you are an unknown variable running full force at their Lord Harbinger. Never in their wildest dreams could they fathom the notoriously spiteful Balladeer has a sweet spot for you, this is by his design. He’s painstakingly taken measures to ensure his little ball of sunshine can’t be used by his many enemies.

The wave he gives serves two purposes — to greet you and signal his men to stand down.

As if he wasn’t already thrown off-kilter by your abrupt appearance, when you’re at the appropriate distance, you launch at him with arms held wide. He catches you with an ease unfitting of his slender demeanor, his strength far surpassing that of any mortal. You’re content to wrap your arms around his neck while he steadies you.

“I knew it was you! The hat gave it away. It always does,” you explain in between breaths. “And here I was thinking that you wouldn’t be in for a few more days.”

Slowly, he helps ease you back down. You sway a bit, clutching his shoulders to maintain your balance, to which he snickers. “Were you so desperate to see me that running at a reasonable pace slipped your mind?”

“I thought if I exerted more force, I might be able to tackle you to the ground this time… so much for that.”

“Hah. As if. What strange fantasies you entertain without me around. The loneliness must rot your brain.”

“Who says I’m lonely?” You challenge, tilting your head to the side. “I’m more than capable of making and maintaining friendships. That’s what happens when you’re a likable person.”

He’s quick to reply so as not to betray his irritation at the idea. “You? Likable? The mental deterioration is worse than I feared. I hope it isn’t irreversible at this stage.”

You shrug. “I dunno, you seem to like me well enough. I consider that my crowning achievement. If I can win you over I’m capable of anything. Maybe I’ll aim for world peace next.”

Scaramouche is so quick to be swept up in the wild tide that is you that his bumbling underlings temporarily slipped his mind. Lately, there’s been one in particular who seems keen on proving himself worthy of a promotion. He goes out of his way to do extra work Scaramouche never tasked him with. It’s been a minor nuisance yet nothing major has come from it.

However, in his purview, he senses this sycophant taking a position that’d be advantageous to strike at you from.

Scaramouche’s retaliation is immediate. On a perfectly sunny day, a vicious bolt of lightning strikes mere inches from the spot he occupies, effectively communicating his lord’s displeasure. The white-hot flash earns your attention. You turn your head in the direction it came from, then shoot him an inquisitive glance.

“... What did that bush ever do wrong?”

“You’d be surprised.”

The warning must’ve made it through the agent’s thick head, for he backs off like a dog with its tail between its legs.

“Hey. I have some business I need to finish, then I’ll treat you to dinner,” Scaramouche knows you well enough to be confident that the idea of delicious food will successfully distract you. It’s as he predicted — he can practically hear the gears turning in your head as you form plans. He can only hope he doesn’t have to encounter that slovenly excuse of a god who once serenaded you with the story of an abandoned doll, claiming it to be a ‘cautionary tale’. The self-restraint he exercised that day is second to none.

“Alright, but try to leave some nature standing, this is a trail I enjoy walking. I’d rather you don’t eviscerate it.”

You begin to part ways, before loudly proclaiming ‘oh!’, like you’d forgotten something important. Then you’re back by his side. He processes the feeling before anything else, the soft sensation of your lips on his cheek renders him speechless. A crimson hue dusts against his pale cheeks as he subconsciously raises his hand to touch the still-tingling spot. Content with yourself, you depart, waving as enthusiastically as you had earlier.

When his coherency returns, he sighs. That was a bit more than he’d prefer any Fatui-aligned person to see.

He’ll have to get creative to explain the deaths of all his men on such a low-stakes mission. Before that, however, he needs to ask one to hand the appropriate forms over, lest it disintegrate to ash as they’re fated to.

It’s a pain, truly, but you’re worth the extra effort.

#yandere scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #scaramouche brainrot #my stuff

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darkfictionjude · 8 months

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They say that small towns hide the darkest secrets. At least that’s what your mother always said about this one. You thought she meant how Father Simmons has a well-known drinking problem, how Mrs. Gladstone’s son looks more like his uncle than his father or that the mayor has been in power for 15 years because of voting fraud. Things everyone knows. Human Things.

But now as partially eaten bodies have been left in alarmingly rates all over this small town the world has no record of, you now know she meant something else.

Play as peculiar and disturbed individual surnamed Crown after the very town your ancestor founded, returning after a traumatic event two years prior that landed you in a psychiatric hospital. As your comeback coincides with a rapid increase of disappearances you find yourself embroiled in a town conspiracy, a past that’s more alive than ever and the ever shifting self interested motives of those who claim to be your allies.

Who can you trust? What’s the truth behind your family? What are things that you see in the dark?

Sometimes it’s hard to tell what shapes monsters come in.

Customize your MC from looks to gender

Reveal your sister’s disappearance

Rely on a group of complimentary polar opposites to find out the mystery and save your life

Befriend or romance a choice of three from enemies to lovers, childhood friends or an eternal admirer

Rating: 18+

Crown - Playlist

You. A person with some personal issues, some family issues and some murder issues.

Imre Duran - Playlist

Quintessential good-boy-next-door. The most most-liked teenager in town. As son of the mayor and pageant queen, Imre has an image cultivated by him and maintained through his status which is why his back door activities are his cherished secrets. He is rather eager to help you… isn’t he?

Nia Mir - Playlist

In the very real and present high school hierarchy Nia would be one of the nobles. As a wannabe doctor with a loathed father and an absent mother her dream is to leave behind this backwater town and all it’s weird phenomena that she doesn’t care to know more of. She liked you, once.

Lorcan Stark - Playlist

Every town needs its bad boy and so Lorcan has aimed to be as every bit worthy of that title. The shunned son of a murderer and his victim, he is not really thought of as having a future beyond prison and petty crime especially in a town like this. You don’t remember a time when he didn’t hate you.

Salvatore Crown

Your brother. The heir to whatever fortune your family has left and the only one of the family who seems to like you.

Orla Crown - Playlist

Your sister. No one ever knew what she thinking, a closed box full of unknowns. You knew she kept things, especially from you.

Mayor Duran

Seems like every other politician. Oddly enough no one ever really sees him, an entity watching over the town.

Mother

She never acted like one to any of her children. She’s never sober anymore.

Mrs. Mir

Disappeared years ago without a trance. No one remembers her first name. Was thought to have been clinically insane.

Demo (updated 3/26) | Spotify | Patreon

Prologue, episodes 1, 2, 3

#twine #twine-if #twine wip #wip #if wip #cyoa #90s #romance #horror #supernatural #interactive fiction #interactive novel

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vasito-de-leche · 2 months

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;R1999 - Self-Aware AU

Headcanons about an Alternate Universe in which everyone knows they're living inside a videogame. However, Vertin is the only one aware of the entity inhabiting her own mind, the real conductor - the "Player".

this is one of my favorite AUs to slap on whatever media I'm into so here we are <3 not sure if anyone's done this already, but PLEASE PLEASE PRETTY PLEASE link me if you've seen any other ppl write for this AU! this one and any actor AUs are my absolute fave

this is just a word vomit introduction for fun, to get the basic ideas out of my head, so I can start writing for characters individually!

Okay, okay! First of all, some context for the AU before I go deranged overexplaining my HCs!

Aside from the "Storm", there is something else that haunts the people of this world: the fact that their lives are nothing but a simulacrum, part of a game.

The requirements to obtain this "self-awareness" is unknown. Those within the Foundation believe it's related to their respective "roles", that only the main and relevant characters are given the chance to fully open their eyes to the truth. Those within Manus Vindictae claim that one must be strong enough to break through the fog of complacency and their assigned scripts, to have their full potential unleashed and obtain true liberation. Either way, similar to the "Storm", this is a well-kept secret for a very good reason - everyone wants to have the upperhand.

There is one outlier to this whole system. Vertin is not only aware of the truth of this world, but also of her duty as the eyes and hands of the "Player". She must experience it all for their sake. Or rather, whatever she experiences will be the story that the Player will see.

This applies to her suitcase, the place where the Player's influence increases tenfold, bending everything and everyone to their will through her own body and voice. The longer one stays within her suitcase - or within her general vicinity - the easier it is for them to become self-aware.

How does one become "self-aware" and what does it entail?

The requirements and the catalyst for a character to become self-aware are still a mystery. But that's mostly because I specifically wanted to keep them as vague as possible, to allow some flexibility for NPCs and other characters outside of Vertin's suitcase.

The whole process of gaining sentience or self-awareness is mostly described as waking up from a nightmare, or a very, very realistic dream. It's like a switch, something that happens in a second without any warnings whatsoever.

I like to think that most of the people who wake up are easy to spot, because it's a jarring experience and panicking is the most normal reaction - but that they're often taken care of by the Foundation or recruited by Manus Vindictae.

The levels of awareness also depend heavily on each individual - some only know that nothing is truly real, that everything they've done up until that point was just a carefully scripted lie, the most basic realization. Others can understand the rules that govern this game and use them to their advantage, either through observation and study or just inherently.

Overall, the experience of being sentient varies as well, with some describing a disconnect from their body, while others feel exactly the opposite. Again, keeping it pretty vague so that people can fill in with their own ideas!

I'll talk about Vertin's case in detail when we get to her specific bullet point, but the same way the Player is able to experience the "story" through her eyes, she's able to see the same things they do - this includes the UI, the menus and everything you can interact with in-game.

Vertin as a character and a vessel for the Player.

The most common thing I've seen in self-aware AUs in my years of fandom is to turn the player stand-in (the main character that serves for the player to experience the story through and/or project onto, depending on the genre of the game) into an obstacle, one that keeps the characters from truly interacting with the Player, capital P.

The second most common thing I've seen is to simply ignore the existence of this player stand-in and replace it with the Player themself, either through isekai methods or thanks to the customization the game allows, etc etc.

When it comes to Vertin in this AU, I know I want her to retain her role as the center of everything, instead of being sidelined by the Player. She's THE Timekeeper, after all.

There's still some details I'm trying to iron out, like whether she's always been self-aware or if she became self-aware at some point during her childhood at the St. Pavlov Foundation. But I like to think that her relationship to the Player is a parallel to her immunity to the "Storm" - neither of these two things are inherently good nor bad. Surviving the "Storm" is helpful, sure, but it's painful for her. Having an entity like the "Player" haunting her is scary, sure, but it can be an advantage. It's a matter of how she utilizes the assets she was given, since her adaptability and determination are big aspects of her character. Vertin makes up for her mediocre arcane skills with unconventional plans and strategies.

But this isn't to say that Vertin isn't affected by the presence of the Player. Ironically, she's the one person whose freedom is limited. During battles, her skills and Tuning are available to you, they can also prove to be vital to win a fight, but in the end you're still the one calling the shots and choosing when her friends get to attack. You're the one choosing the layout of the Wilderness. You're the one picking which one of her friends deserves to become stronger.

In the last bullet point I mentioned that some characters can understand the rules of the game - Vertin is the most extreme case, as she can see the same UI as you do. She learns the way you like to fight your battles, your own strategies, she can see this and more.

Overall it's a very complex dynamic. It's not as easy as saying that she likes or dislikes you, that she considers you a friend or foe. You're part of her, you influence each other in many aspects and are stuck together for reasons she can't even fathom. While you may be able to read her thoughts most of the time, she becomes invisible once you enter the suitcase - the main menu of the game. Sure, the character you selected to greet you every day is actually talking to her, not you, but she's out of your view and therefore, out of our range. That's when Vertin wonders the sort of person that you are, if you care about her friends as much as she does. Are you playing just to be entertained? Are you invested in these events? Will you be there for her until the end of her story?

Another detail I like to think about is that Vertin is the only one who knows your name. Because at the very beginning, you were asked to input a name and she was there.

[screenshot was taken from this video, since it's the first one I could find that showed this specific part of the game lol]

Well, "your name" not quite right - she knows that whatever you wrote there is the name linked to your account, at least. And that's the name she knows you as.

Those who take residence in Vertin's suitcase or spend prolonged amounts of time with her, growing closer to her and all, end up becoming self-aware. This is a direct side-effect of your presence.

I like to think that characters who reach the 100% Bond can begin to sense the Player, to see the world in a similar way as Vertin does. Maybe even feel their presence EXACTLY like Vertin does whenever there's a battle. There is someone else on the other side of this screen, the fourth wall, who watches over them.

To some, it's hard to differentiate Vertin from the Player, as they just go hand in hand - but Sonetto, for example, has the easiest time telling the two apart.

On the subject of freedom and acting out of script.

The Foundation, Manus Vindictae, Laplace... It doesn't matter if they're self-aware and acting outside of what their script dictates, because they're missing one key ingredient: you. No one else but Vertin and her group knows about your existence, after all.

They don't know that the only story that matters is the one that Vertin is part of. The one that the Player gets to see and read and experience. And because the game gives you a very limited view into the lives of these characters, you don't know what neither Arcana nor Constantine do behind the scenes. You and Vertin don't see that, therefore, it never truly mattered.

Those most likely to start "acting out" are the troublemakers within Vertin's suitcase. Characters who are too curious for their own good, who are more susceptible to supernatural entities, who are just too impulsive - they would start to test the limits and see how far they can go, how much they can interact with the Player. Can the game be broken should they end up shattering the fourth wall? Is there a way for the Player to communicate with them? What will happen to Vertin?

I like to think that Vertin probably supports this, as she's rather curious herself, prone to questioning everything. She would also like to learn more about the Player, to truly tear into the game and see the full extent of your influence and her freedom.

Sometimes, Regulus and X will change their usual voicelines, just enough to be noticeable if one pays enough attention. Characters like Sotheby or Leilani might slip up and address the Player, rather than Vertin. Lilya, Pavia, Bkornblume have new animations and different expressions, ones you've never seen before - they stare ahead, as if searching for something, and then smirk or hum to themselves, deep in thought, like they realized something you're not privy of.

Sometimes, if you leave them as your selected assistant on the main menu, you can catch them muttering to themselves - idle quotes you never heard enough, about the outside world. Diggers does this the most, it's almost embarassing how easy it is to catch him talking nonsense, followed by Sonetto. If you leave Medicine Pocket alone for too long, you might come back to a screen covered in weird scratch marks.

On the subject of these characters being curious about the outside world and all, I think that a good chunk of them are generally content with the way things are?

We have to remember that in-universe, they're arcanists displaced from their respective eras. Their best chance at surviving is siding with Vertin, and if Vertin is content with the way things are, then there's no point in trying to disrupt what they have right now. They're curious enough to prod, but only as far as Vertin allows it.

And I think that's it for the word vomit!

There are some details I didn't know where to fit in, like the possibility of the fourth wall slowly dissipating the more time the Player invests in the game, leading to some characters being able to directly hear you if you talk while playing and whatnot. Or what would happen should someone outside of Vertin's suitcase figure out the existence of the Player, let alone interact with you in some way.

Or the concept of death being meaningless, unless it was pre-established by the game itself.

In Borderlands, there's this game mechanic where you can just be revived over and over and pay a percentage of your money as a fee, even though the canon that's established is that you play through the whole story without dying a SINGLE time - because the revival mechanics aren't canon. There's the divide between story and gameplay. That's pretty much the standard. But what about the deaths in battles in R1999? The amount of times I died to 1.3's UTTU's Flash Gathering is insane. How do self-aware characters feel about this, now that they know that they're bound to die over and over and be brought back because you have to do your Pneuma Analysis or reach the final stage of Limbo?

But that's pretty much it for now, I think I got most thoughts out of my system! Thank you for reading!

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 x reader #self aware au #'mod six what are you going to do with this AU?'#probably write more reader inserts for FMN and pavia lmfao #i just wanted it out of my brain and onto a post #i like to think about things in-depth but thats it #and just like the hanahaki nsr au. feel free to fuck around with this concept! discuss it or make up your own HCs!#tag me if you wanna bc i love to read. but no need to credit me

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wings-of-flying · 4 months

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the thing about chip is that he's a little too unassuming. an orphan kid with no name and no memory of anything beforehand, yet is old enough to beg to join the black rose pirates. sure, you can believe it, even if the other orphan aboard definitely has a name

that orphan kid then goes on to survive the hole in the sea, amongst few who lived and made swift recoveries, but unlike lizzie he had no protector, and unlike roofus he was a child, only nine. alone in the recently corrupted black sea and with no magic, he managed to make his way to land, which we've learnt is at least a few days travel when on a ship. he didn't drown, or freeze, and he doesn't seem to remember it. it's odd. almost impossible, you could say. but fine, we move on

with gillion and jay, he's so clearly the odd one out. standing between the chosen one and a descendent of the sun, he seems out of place (especially from a meta perspective). but even then, fine, it's probably just meant to be funny

but then there's all the other things. out of the three deals we've seen, he's the only one who's found niklaus rather than vice versa. he slipped through a dream into the realm of who we can only imagine to be one of the most powerful people in mana. and you have to remember he didn't possess any magic until after the feywild. the deal happened after joaldo

he's undead now. his heart was ripped out, his flesh is decaying, but he lives. sure, the other crew members of captain widow were technically undead too, but the fact remains true that this is unusual. the undead thing lead to him following the compass (which is something else i'll get into, because doesn't he seem oddly interested in it yet unaffected) into that sack where he met with niklaus for a second time, the only riptide pc we've seen met him more than once. and the wish doctor seemed more than happy to share some of his secrets with chip

now the compass. it's made by niklaus, linked to desire, and when ollie used it just a few times in joaldo it had instant effects. chip keeps looking at the compass, so much so that it's now magically increased his desire to find arlin, and yet he's had no other effects

when he made the deal with niklaus, his price seemed hardly anything. "don't interfere". it doesn't exactly align with gillion's favour or jay's name and a command she must obey. also it technically gave him two things: knowledge of arlin's whereabouts, and reverting the effects on ollie. and once again niklaus shared more of his plans with chip than any other captain. like he trusts him, almost

inexplicably, chip can speak celestial. a language which just so happens to be key to unlocking all these clues surrounding the hole in the sea (the map, the door in the place beneath the sea as well iirc). jay's understanding of primordial is explained by navy lessons (makes sense if they're dealing with the undersea), but chip's celestial never is

and now the place beneath the sea -- where the cumagoon (do i have to write that in a serious analysis post?), now unlocked by the compass, led -- a voice welcomed him home

i think chip's more deeply connected to the black sea than even he has ever considered. it runs much deeper than simply the loss of arlin and the black rose pirates. i think he, like niklaus, is intrinsically tied to the entity known as the nameless prince, and thereby the egg. he might be more significant magically than we previously thought

#long post #blorbo analysis #jrwi #jrwi riptide #jrwi chip #jrwi spoilers #egg theory

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selvyyr · 2 months

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Bro imagine creator!reader with chibi!reader and penguin!reader???

Like in the court i could imagine when sera says the reader's name.reader appears out of the thin air and the other two just runs up to her and cling to her like cmon please please

A gif that i think how reader would look like

SURE!

Penguin!Reader and chibi!Resder belongs to @deadghosy

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

THE FELLOW LITTLE GRACES..

|MASTERLIST!|

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

↪Well grace!Reader was just looking around the other universe before seeing a two little figures in distance..

↪When she walked up there.. She was met with two adorable creatures sleeping..Grace!Reader took the two with her to her universe..

↪When the two woke they introduced theirselves as chibi!Reader and penguin!Reader..

↪So yep!They are adopted by grace!Reader Hoorya!

↪Since grace!Reader is god..She'll try to make the two more human alike which worked!

↪penguin!Reader would have their tail amd nose in their human form while chibi!Reader has their little star pupils

↪Sudon love the two alot and would spend some family time with them and grace!Reader

↪The people love them and would often give penguin!Reader and chibi!Reader sweets,toys and etc

↪The upside down entities and people would treat the two like how they treat grace!Reader

↪Penguin!Reader often is in the ice enitity's city.. While chibi!Reader is often in the sugar entity's city alot.

↪One day,the two wanted to go to other universe where grace!Reader were..Which grace!Reader agreed to let them go but in their other form.

↪Grace!Reader told her two older siblings about keep eye on the two.. Which they agreed..

↪When penguin!Reader and chibi!Reader were in hell..They would always find grace!Reader's or sudon's minion eyes keeping eye on them..

↪When the two met lucifer..Chibi!Reader almost bit him..But penguin!Reader stopped them..

↪Lucifer felt like he was watched..Penguin!Reader and chibi!Reader were glaring at him..

↪The two know about what lucifer did to grace!Reader and hates him little..

↪Grace!Reader would be always in their dreams.. Playing with them and telling tales and stories..

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

The ending of this fic

↪As sera had quite shocked look on her face.. As she spoke

"The person who will keep penguin!Reader and chibi!Reader is Grace!Reader.."

↪The older siblings was literally smilling and giving thumbs up to the two.

↪Then a star shaped portal opened.. As sudon came out as he spoke

"Where's my little moonlight?"

↪As chibi!Reader ran up to sudon while penguin!Reader looked sround looking for grace!Reader

↪Then grace!Reader came out after sudon.. As she smiled..Looking at penguin!Reader

"Come here my little star!"

↪Said grace!Reader as penguin!Reader just ran up to her.. And hugged her while grace!Reader hugged them back with smile

↪Lucifer looked shocked...His first wife were mother of the two..

↪Grace!Reader looked at her older siblings and nodding.. As they nodded..The court was dismissed but the hell's family could be here for some time..

↪Grace!Reader walked up to the others.. As she smiled sweetly at them..

"Thank you for looking after the two..These two wanted to stay in this universe..And lucifer..?"

Lucifer's breath hitched.. As grace!Reader spoke again..

"I forgive you..We can still stay as friends,and you can keep these two but i'll take them few days later..But for now i'll take them.."

Lucifer nodded as he smiled at her.. Before he could know it.. He was hugged by grace!Reader.. Sudon glared at lucifer so did chibi!Reader

↪After two weeks,grace!Reader would leave the two in hell with lucifer and the others..

↪Penguin!Reader and chibi!Reader would bring their favorite entity's city food/drinks or the creations to the others

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

A/N:That's it!Hope ya liked this<3.Have a nice day/evening/night!<3

୧ ‧₊˚💫🎞 ⋅ ☆

#fanfic #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #selvyyr answers #grace!reader #Graceness of the other world

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egot1stical · 7 months

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ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes

Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities

Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:

* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses

* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.

* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs

* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed

* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like. Wow! You're not Simon!

* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.

Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.

Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane

The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.

Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now

Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again

also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?

Anyway

The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.

CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.

That’s all I got

#winter king #simon petrikov #ice king #fionna and cake

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meraki-sunset · 9 months

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having a hard time explaining grimdark and trickster to a friend

think you can help?

they get godtier just fine but the other two keep confusing them because right now they think

grimdark = chaos in anarchy sense, but trickster = chaos in haha funny meme sense

Sure, let me see…

GRIMDARK mode is described by Doc scratch as “going completely off the deep end in every way”.

It turns your skin an unnatural dark gray, and in rose’s case to be surrounded by a dark aura, while jade had a spacey green aura.

It’s basically a black magic power up deeply connected to the horroterrors, a state of mind that comes from letting them influence a broken mind. For Rose, it was the death of her mother, and then trying to reveal the horror terror’s secrets. For Jade, she was heartbroken, but also she got mind controlled into entering the grimdark state by the condesce, who is also connected to the horrorterrors.

As an extra, Hussie described Eridan as also going into grimdark when he began murdering people, tho his case must’ve been more symbolical, as he presented the perfect scenario to become grimdark, the complete loss of hope, waiting for Jack to kill them all (due to his title being prince of hope, ergo Destroyer of hope) added to Feferi breaking their moiraliance talking with Sollux, being the detonator for his broken mind, and him being a Derse player, so his dream self was around the horroterrors and had interacted with them prior, he was also interested in magic like rose, had a wand just like her and sought for answers about, like her. He just lacked the connection to the horroterrors in that crucial moment.

So Grimdark is basically when the horroterrors cause the player's most primal and violent tendencies to be pushed to the forefront

The grimdark is also described a “the fabled blackdeath trance of the woegothics”. So a dark trance that people like Rose and Eridan are inclined to fall victim of (in my opinion)

TRICKSTER mode, in the other hand, is described by Calliope as something that brings out your full potential, that brings all your walls down and puts all your inner thoughts in the outside and all your creative power in your hands. It strips you from all social and mental barrier.

It gives you reality altering Powers, allowing you to jump from place to place, probably dimension hopping, manifest objects and makes you super happy and candy colored to the point of losing grip in reality

The problem is that cherubs are very different from humans. For a cherub, who is supposed to fly around in the endless space protecting/destroying a certain part of the void, and its inhabited planets, feeding of black holes, fighting entities to death to ultimately mate in the shape of a big ass snake, a juju that’s basically drugs that can make you forget every wall you built up floating around space alone, and move forward as a happy missile ready to find a mate sounds good. But humans are social creatures, and cherubs are not. Cherubs don’t answer to anyone and don’t have Friends, they don’t need to follow any social cues. Humans built their relationships carefully, and they have secrets and barriers to protect themselves and others. They hide things like crushes and resentment and problems, because well, for the sake of peace, for the sake of not braking every relationship they have. That’s something that Calliope and Caliborn never fully grasped and understood why the kids came to hate the juju when they woke up

So that’s all I could gather. Essentially they are different kinds of power ups, opposite to one another at their core, BUT in both the person isn’t fully there and is being guided by primal instincts, be it rage/sadness or Hope/happiness and they both have consequences in the user because neither is supposed to be used on humans or even trolls.

#homestuck #csau extra #homestuck info #grimdark #trickster #homestuck trickster #homestuck grimdark

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admirxation · 1 month

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the perpetual chase | chapter two

links to other parts: part one | part three

pairing: las plagas!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader (afab) AND Chris Redfield x fem!reader (afab).

disclaimer: this fic will deal with dark content, containing topics of abuse, manipulation, non-con and under the DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT category. this is also a piece of fiction and i do not condone everything i write. you’re responsible for the content you consume and if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable, click off now.

specific chapter warnings: death, attempted suicide, mention of losing a baby, trauma, imprisonment, & mentions of postpartum depression.

word count: 4k

a/n: i’m sorry for taking forever, i had a 10,000 word uni project, but i’m free for a little bit to get some writing done. just a mention, if u want to be tagged in chapters just comment or message me (just a note if ur a blog that has no content, and is ageless i wont interact). also to note anything italicised is a flash back to a memory.

Chapter two: Cruel Consciousness

“I’m… I’m sorry, Y/N, I love you, and I would never hurt you if… if —”

“I know Leon, I know who you are, but… I don’t think the real you can survive now.”

“I know… That’s why I need you to kill me right now… Please, I can’t take it anymore. It’s too much!”

“I’m sorry, Leon. I wish it had happened differently.”

“We would have been happier… l love you.”

“I love you too.”

The sensation of searing pain ripped through, the deafening roar of gunfire, and the overwhelming rush of fear and adrenaline flooded the mind. Voices were barely whispers, attempts to sit up and continue survival were slim to nothing; the vision was blurry, surroundings darkening as if god pulled the night sky in front of the peripheral. Right then and there, the feeling of coldness and abandonment set in, clouding every inch of known existence; it was so cold, with no warmth or comfort, just stranded in a vein of mystery that would forever be kept locked up like a forgotten trinket that has nothing left for existence but to collect dust, and be apart of fond memories — and only memories. Haunting silence set the scene — at first — with the icy tendrils creeping through the veins, numbness. Until a blood-curdling scream was released into the unknown and dark atmosphere.

In cold sweat with tears brimming up in his eyes, Leon had awoken from an icy cold abandonment, realising his sudden reality, remembering the feeling of unknown silence for years — he was in a coma for years, unaware and lost in his atmosphere, but had finally came back the to the material world that he knew in life. He slowly picked his limb body up, watching in utter surprise and bewilderment as he stared at his pale hands, shocked at how the light was now surrounding them and not perpetual darkness; he watched as his chest lifted up and down and appreciated how he was finally breathing, pressing his hands to his heart — it felt like a miracle a god bestowed upon him. This newfound appreciation continued when his hands travelled from his heart to his fingers pressing against his forehead damp with sweat; he couldn’t believe how his mind was clear now; there was no intrusion, no splitting of discomfort as two entities tried to squeeze into one consciousness, his mind and every physical manifestation belonged to him and only him now, feeling like there was no longer a parasite that manipulated every aspect.

That was when he remembered everything. He had constantly dreamed about you while in a coma; those final moments that resulted in his death were on replay in his mind, but when sympathy was granted to him, he would remember the sweet moments when it was an innocent crush next door. That moment in Spain was something he found comfort in consciously delving into. He sat there for a moment and remembered when he saved Ashley.

On his escape from that dreaded Island, he reminisced about how she had asked him to stay, with prominent hints. Still, he denied telling her, “I got to go see a girl back home,” while there was a tinge of disappointment in her voice, she didn’t dwell on it; she was happy and wished him well with the lucky girl; he was going to confess his feelings to you when he took Ashley back home and gotten his thank yous from the president. He had it all planned, the romantic gesture of flowers, telling you how he always looked forward to when you came knocking on his door with your cooking — he loved how caring you were for him. But after he had safely returned Ashley and gotten his thank you, he was dismissed to go back home, and that was when his reality had shifted.

He was coughing up blood, feeling weak as he tried to walk back to the car to be escorted home; he felt like it was nothing, at first, feeling like it was just exhaustion from the trip, which often happened with needing rest and to let his body fully recover from the pain and strain it went through. He ignored it at first, and it rested while he was being escorted back; he was returned home later in the night, and as the driver waved him off, he looked up to your window, noticing your silhouette move toward the curtains, smiling to himself that he knew you were still going to be up at the late hour. As he pulled his key… That was when it happened. An uncontrollable shock coursed through his body, feeling his muscles tense up and jaw clenching down as he grinned his teeth in pain, his fingers tensed up into balls of fists and collapsed on the ground as well as the bouquet he had just for you. This pain was familiar. Las Plagas. He watched his veins darkening, his body shiver in the darkness.

“I thought I was cured,” he whispered to himself, “no, no, I was cured; Ashley put me in Luis’... AH!” he tried to remain quiet, but the pain was now taking over and manipulating his autonomy.

He rushed into the darkness as people looked outside their windows in curiosity and worry, but Leon’s figure was nowhere to be found as he ran into the shadows. He remembered the tears that rolled down his cheeks as he tried to keep quiet, trying to accept his fate, as he pulled his gun from his trouser pockets and wished it ended right there not to cause harm as he saw back in that little village — all those innocent people who had lives, history, not lost from the parasite and resting in death.

“It’s not that hard; just do it,” he told himself as his shaking hand tried to pull the trigger, “you know how to shoot a gun. It’s not impossible. Don’t be a coward. Do the right thing.”

But he couldn’t do it.

The gun jammed when his finger finally pulled it back, feeling the metal shake against his head.

After that was when the parasite took over him, but unlike the people in Spain, it manifested alongside the consciousness and personality of Leon but still overpowered him—resulting in the pain and trauma caused to you. As he remembered everything that happened that night, everything he did to you, the pain he caused and how he dehumanised and objectified you — he was ashamed of himself. He remembered how he tricked you into falling in love with him, into relying on him through his abusive and manipulative behaviour; that was not who Leon was. He knew he was better than that, and he wanted to make it right with his new chance of life. Leon tried to move from the bed he was on, but his legs were unresponsive.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself as he pressed his fingers onto his legs. He could feel his fingers prodding his skin, giving him some relief that they weren’t paralysed; he needed to wait until they ‘woke up’ and allowed him to move about freely.

His body was almost… delayed; only his upper body was mobile and able to move freely, but he couldn’t just sit there and let this haunting memory eat at his conscience with guilt. He used his upper body strength to pull himself from the bed, a thud on the hard ground as he tried to move with determination, his lower body holding him back and having to drag himself like a pathetic creature. The room he was in was unfamiliar; he recognised it as an ordinary hospital room, but as he went to the door and tried to pull the door handle, a voice surrounded the room.

“I admire your determination, Leon, but you’re not getting out of here.”

That voice. That voice was familiar.

“Chris?” Leon was more confused than ever. His appreciation for a second chance at life was slowly short-lived as he lived in another nightmare. “Why am I being trapped here? Answer me!” Leon felt his anger making his face warm, desperately clawing at the door and screaming for release.

“You won’t be getting out any time soon, Leon. You’re not safe from the outside world.” Chris felt pained to tell his friend that he had to be a prisoner in this lifeless room that gave him no joy.

“Not safe! Not safe! I’m cured; that part of my mind is silenced. Why else am I in this room?”

“You’re cured… Temporally,” Chris sighed. " We’ve managed to make a supplement to keep giving you. Our team quickly made it, but a cure is still far from us.”

His heart sank. His desperation had halted and was replaced with a numbness. He thought he was finally cured, but this bliss was temporary; he needed to rely on a needle inside of him to be sane and to keep the monster within him taking everything; life was so fragile; he was so vulnerable, and this kept circulating in his mind.

Leon had pressed his back on the cold wall, tilting his head with closed eyes to process information nobody should have to deal with. ‘It isn’t fair,’ he kept thinking. It felt like a force just loved to torment him for his whole life. From his family being cruelly taken from him, Raccoon City, Spain and now this, was this all a cruel joke to a higher power? He thought to himself.

Right there — as Leon paused to be lost in a sea of thoughts — that wall opposite him had a flicker of uncertainty that danced across the seemingly bland and grey wall; Leon watched as it materialised into pixels, then watched as his attention focused further to see the wall turn into a screen. To his astonishment, it revealed Chris’ face, which he hadn’t seen in so long. It was too much to process; he could not find the words and did not know what to say as he froze. Alongside Chris, he saw strangers in the background with screens of research in front of him; he noticed a flicker of files that he had accumulated back in Spain and even saw a picture of the face of Luis in his laboratory jacket with his team when he was working for Umbrella — his heart still hurt for the man.

“What… What’s all that?” Leon managed to string some sentences together, but his voice trembled with disbelief as his hand pointed to everything behind Chris.

“It’s… complicated,” Chris replied, his gaze flickering to the monitors behind him where charts and graphs danced in a mesmerising data display. Chris’ heart pounded in his chest as he spoke to Leon; he knew he would wake up at some point but didn’t know today would be that day, especially just after he confessed his feelings for you — almost like the universe was telling him something. He took a deep breath before he continued dialogue, “It’s research for a cure… It’s still far away from us, but —” he was cut off.

“You have the files from Luis’ research; shouldn’t that be good enough? He gave me the suppressant before; isn’t that enough of a lead?!”

“It’s been a good lead, but your… situation is more complicated.” This was more bad news that Leon dreaded hearing: “With this disease… You were supposed to turn into what you encountered back in Spain, but it seems like it… evolved into something different.”

“Are you trying to say I’ve turned into some evolved creature?”

Chris laughed as he tried to turn to humour in this moment, “If you want to think of it that way, then be my guest. But the good side is that you won’t be like what you saw back in Spain. We have enough suppressants for you to remain, but until we find a cure, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What about Ashley? She was infected, too.”

“She was cured. It stayed the pure strain so she could be cured back in Spain; you were just unlucky… But try and keep some positivity; you’ll stay alive, and a cure is possible.”

A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the steady noise of typing by the strangers. Leon’s mind was whirling with trauma and neverending questions, with fears too vast to name or even get into. But amidst the chaos, one thing arose into Leon’s mind.

“Can I see her?” Leon’s voice was barely audible above the hum of machines, “Can I see Y/N? I want to… set things right.”

Chris’ expression softened, but Leon’s eyes filled with sadness as he begged and begged, “Please, Chris. I’m behind a wall, and I just want to tell her everything I want to. Please, while I have a sound mind.”

“As… As much as I would say that’s a good idea. She’s… um. She’s gone.”

The words hit Leon like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs. Images flashed before his eyes — your smile, your laughter, the warmth of your touch. And now, all that remained was emptiness, a void that threatened to consume him whole. Guilt ate at him as he tried to agree that he couldn’t make it right. He knew he couldn’t turn back the clock and stop all the damage he caused, but he wanted to start with recognition and apologise for everything he did, even if it wasn’t his fault.

“I-I don’t believe you,” a lump in his throat hindered the audibility of his voice, “I-I’ll never get to, n-never get to,” he paused for a moment again, “Did the baby make it?”

Chris momentarily thought, “She lost it while we took her out of your… You know. I’m so sorry, Leon.”

Behind Chris, the scientists exchanged uneasy glances. One of the women tried to hold a steady position as she teared up, hearing his brokenness and the transparent lies Chris was telling him. Everyone in the room could understand, but they also saw the person behind whom they were researching and were told to be cautious. But Chris remained unchanged.

“I have to go now, Leon, but me and Jill will check up on you… We’re here to help.”

Leon nodded; he didn’t want to fight and even wanted to be left alone.

Leon felt at ease as the screen materialised back to the blank wall. He knew people were watching him, but being unable to see a range of faces made him feel alone with his thoughts. All his thoughts were just glimpses and flashes of picturing you, imagining everything he wanted to say to you, and trying to understand that you were gone. ‘I wish I were the one that remained dead,' he thought.

As Chris walked out, he bent over to the team leader. “Don’t tell him the truth,” he murmured in a low and urgent tone. “Keep up the illusion.”

That charade would continue, a fragile facade of woven lies. Leon had to deal with a reality that was just an illusion to keep up appearances. There was now a quiet stillness as Chris left the room, finding his footing to return to the area you and Mason were in. On his way, he noticed Jill standing outside, waiting for another conversation with Chris. She waved him to beckon him over, and of course, he wouldn’t ignore her — even though he wanted to after the not-too-long-ago encounter that still left a bad taste in his mouth. He stepped outside, taking in some much-needed fresh air, waiting for Jill to guide the conversation; she was eager to get her words out.

“I’m hoping you told Leon the lie we agreed on,” she raised an eyebrow, greeted by Chris nodding in agreement.

“I know why we’re not letting him out… We must find a cure before we even consider placing him somewhere. But why did we have to lie to his face about Y/N? Wouldn’t it have been better to say she didn’t want to see him?”

“If he were his normal self, he would have taken that.”

“But he is his normal self; we have a suppressant, and we have managed to keep giving him that.”

“I know, I know. But we don’t know too much about his condition. Luis’ research is limited to a single strain. I doubt we can just go to Umbrella for information,” she took a deep breath and noticed her voice raising in volume gradually, “Let’s say this strain becomes something else; it’s already evolved into another strain; it could get more serious. I would rather him think Y/N is dead so he doesn’t go after her or Mason. I’m not having her be taken away from me again… And I doubt you want that after your little moment with her.”

“Are you still mad that she and I have something?”

“No, I’m so happy I’m practically planning the wedding… What do you think, Chris?” sarcasm at its finest.

Chris sighed deeply at Jill’s stubbornness, “I’m all for protecting her, and I admire how far you’ve gone to protect her, but wouldn’t you rather that she be with someone you know? You know I’m not an awful person,” Jill wanted to open her mouth for a witty remark, “Ah, no comment from you. But back to the point, you know I won’t hurt her, and you’re round, and she’s near you for as long as possible in this quarantine zone if you suspect I’m doing her harm… Which I won’t… You’re there.”

Jill’s hardened exterior softened with the voice of reason: " I didn’t think I would say this, but you’re right, Chris. I just have to get used to it, but I swear if you hurt her, I will do way worse and won’t keep you alive like I am with Leon.”

Chris nodded in acceptance.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You sat alone in a dimly lit room, your only company with the shadows and the ambient noises across the walls, hearing the occasional footsteps outside your living quarters and the soft hum of the air conditioning filling the silence as you stared at the blank wall, with a still expression. Chris was beside you, and you felt his warm breath and the scratch of his facial hair on your arm; it was strange to have him sleeping soundly beside you. You had spoken to Jill with Chris while Mason was getting his lessons, and there was no point in keeping the secret up. At the same time, it did take away a specific aspect of fun; it was a lot less stressful to keep it from her. All you were doing now was waiting a little longer before Mason knew about it — but that was no worry since Chris was a father figure for him while you were raising him.

Alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but drift back to the memories of Leon. You were getting tired of this same routine of having a romantic connection with Chris and then looking back, but you also were patient with yourself, knowing you weren’t going to get over this; no matter how many years passed, it would only be a little easier to cope with but never get over. These memories would invade your memory like an unwelcome ghost haunting and tormenting, stirring up a tumultuous mix of emotions within you. The guilt gnawed at you as you felt like a prisoner even with Leon in the grave, feeling like a fool with the clutches of Stockholm syndrome keeping you and making it unable to break free.

However, as you sat there — lost in your memories and thoughts — another thought started to take the forefront: your conversation with Jill a year after your rescue.

You remembered that night; it was a year from your rescue, and within that year, you thought about so much. The year started with the early days of raising Mason; oh, how much of a darling he was when he was tiny. Before you had given birth to him, you were so excited every time you looked at the ultrasound, your heart skipping a beat every time you thought about how close it was until you could finally touch him, skin to skin, and introduce him to the world. When you saw that face, tears of joy rolled down as you looked at the life you brought into the world; you didn’t care how much he looked like Leon — at that moment — all you cared about was the relief you felt when knowing he was healthy and didn’t have a strain of infection in his veins, you had the privilege of having a beautiful and healthy baby.

But as the months went on, it was getting hard to cope with life after pregnancy; Mason was no trouble, not fussy, and was quite an easy baby; you even had Chris and Jill help to look after him, so you had nothing to complain about. But you remembered how fatigued your eyes were; every day felt like a struggle to continue. You remembered how your body weighted you down and your spirits corrupted with the weight of postpartum. The medical staff were dismissive at first, but after seeing your condition, they began to take a look at it more; it was only more accessible with people by your side. You felt like you were drowning, then suffocating beneath the waves of sadness and emptiness that threatened to consume your every waking moment. But while you were in your solitude, you had time to think, to deeply remember and process what had happened to you, and think deeply about Leon. That was when you built up the courage to ask Jill everything your mind wouldn’t silence itself about.

Your memories echoed that picture as you remembered how you sat across from Jill, your fingers nervously tapping against the tabletop, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling that something wasn’t right for a long time; your mind had delved into a strain that had a gut feeling that there was more to the story that Jill let on. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation you couldn’t sit in silence about anymore.

“Jill,” you began hesitantly, “I need to ask you something.” You had her full attention, and she smiled before she knew exactly what you wanted to discuss. “I have to ask you about Leon.”

Jill’s eye flickered. You didn’t know this then, but her mind was racing to string together words to maintain an appearance, an illusion. She deeply breathed, “What do you want to know?”

You hesitated; your mind raced with the words and everything you wanted to ask, “I… Did… Did Leon actually… die?” Jill looked at you with false confusion.

“Of course he did… Don’t you remember you pulled the trigger, Y/N,”

“What did you do with this body?”

“Excuse me?”

“I killed him… okay… but you wouldn’t have just left his corpse there. You wanted to keep this secret from the general public, or so I’m told, so you wouldn’t have let it stay there for anybody to come across,” Jill was panicking; you didn’t know since she managed to keep a calm composure, but she wasn’t expecting these questions and thoughts from you.

“Well, we didn’t tell you this, but we got some other people to collect him, and we were taken; we don’t know where, but he is dead and was taken care of… I’m sorry.”

You had a gut feeling that she was lying; Jill’s voice had sowed seeds of doubt, and the root of uncertainty grew with each passing moment. You couldn’t keep a straight mind after that and kept thinking, but raising Mason and the constant medical checks was a good distraction.

You continued to stare at the blank wall, with that moment replaying. To this day, you still feel like there is more to the story, like everyone is caught up with the truth, and you kept in the dark. You didn’t want to ignore your gut feeling. Still, for the years you called this place home, you were given no evidence to have doubt but just your ideas from decoding Jill’s demeanour, body language, and how she avoided your gaze in conversations about Leon and what had happened years ago.

But another bit of curiosity crept upon you—the restricted area. You were told that there were just experiments and research on the bioweapons from Umbrella; Jill showed you pictures of the enemies she and Chris encountered, but you thought about how Leon would be a good suspect for experimentation after you learned about where he had gotten infected.

‘What if he’s there?’ you thought.

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