#what kind of mythical item is this

[ramblesbiab]

I was thinking about the Tea Set, which I love because of how obscure it is for a furniture item that doesn't actually do anything, only to be jumpscared by a change made in 1.6

I'm sorry what??? Year 25+????? Not to mention that it costs 1,000,000 gold?????????????

I don't even know how to feel about this lol.

#stardew valley #tea set #what kind of mythical item is this #why is this far and away #the most expensive possible feast of the winter star gift #you can get like #one piece of clay #or one singular magnet #oh and also #1000000 tea set

[notellum]

darkness has crept into the cracks of this world for centuries, but it’s never spoken—until now.

it was a mistake how this world came to be.

in the west, a realm is controlled by death. a queen rules with an iron-fist, seeing no mercy as she curls her fingers and crushes a person’s once beating heart in a matter of seconds. every drop of blood spilt is the strengthening of magic, the first kill an awakening of an individual’s unique power.

in the east lies another, a realm overseen by life. killing has been outlawed here, the ruler strict but not unkind. for those who dare to break the rules, every kill adds an extra year of life onto the murderer’s lifespan, a cushion of temporary invulnerability to soften crimson hands.

though they lay side by side, the two kingdoms have not spoken to each other in nearly two centuries, for in-between the realms lies an abyss—a third realm, one that survives in the shadows. it is unknown what lives there, but it’s dangerous enough that most don’t dare cross the border.

you’re one of the few who do.

living a double life, you make a living smuggling items into opposite sides, selling and trading requested items to keep yourself afloat. when you’re caught by the queen, you’re expecting a death sentence. instead, she gives you an ultimatum: steal her a coveted item and she’ll let you live. fail, and you die.

it should be simple enough, but there’s only one problem: what the queen is looking for doesn’t exist.

game (tba)

ro information (tba)

patreon / ko-fi

other works (when twilight strikes)

play as male, female, nonbinary; straight, gay, lesbian, bi/pansexual, gray/demi/asexual, aromantic + have the chance to set your own pronouns

race to save your own life by finding a mythical item and uncover some secrets along the way, including those which have been buried and blacked out from the history books

choose which realm you were born in, including what power you were gifted with (depending)

decide what kind of thief you are and where your morals lie in a world that has no kindness

meet some unsavoury creatures in the abyss, including one that may even follow you home…

romance one of (six) five characters, grow closer to a chosen individual in a canon platonic route or do neither

note: cerise is rated 18+ for graphic depictions of violence

KAHLYS, THE HARBRINGER. [he/him]

there isn’t anyone that doesn’t know who kahlys is. stolen by the queen as a child and gifted with a unique power of mental manipulation, he serves as her messenger of death, doling out punishment to those who have wronged her. it’s been drilled into his very heart that sympathy is weak, that emotions only serve to cause pain, which explains his closed off attitude. still, that flicker of life behind his eyes every so often make you wonder if some part of him is fighting for life somewhere deep inside.

SERPENTE, THE THIEF. [they/them]

while their real name is unknown, you’ve always known them as serpente—as do their enemies. your paths cross often, for they are one of the only other people you know who dare to trek across the abyss. and while this leads to the occasional knife at your throat, even they can’t deny you know them better than most. it’s why, at the other end of the blade, you sometimes wonder their deadpan smiles, sarcastic drawls and aloof attitude are simply cover-ups for something else. 

[enemies to friends with benefits to lovers available, or keep them as a one-night stand]

NITARA SOLYRES, THE ASSOCIATE. [she/her]

it is often said that those who cross nitara are never heard from again. hardened from past experiences, she’s spent her life building a reputation as one of the most powerful leaders of the city. and while her skills with a knife and cut-throat ways of persuasion paint her as a heartless soul, her behaviour towards those she cares about says more than any front she hides behind—you would know. over the years, your alliance has let you inside the walls of one of the most guarded people in notellum, that is, if you don’t betray her.

[friends with benefits to lovers available, or keep her as a fling]

VAL BELEDRI, THE EMISSARY. [gender selectable]

though endlessly busy with their duties to the realm, val always has time to spare for you. you’ve come to expect their sparkling hazel eyes when you exit the abyss, though which version of them you get is never known until they open their mouth. it seems that for all the layers you pull back, there are always more. and while you’re getting closer to what you think is their true personality, you soon begin to believe that when the act begins and when it ends is a line that’s been long lost to them.

REYES VERENELI, THE MYTHIC. [gender selectable]

reyes wears their heart on their sleeve and displays their emotions without fear—you’ve never known them to be any different. as a childhood friend you’ve lost and recently found again, it’s easy to make comparisons to who they used to be—even more when it’s clear that something burdens them. still, they’re practically the same as you remember them. that is, as long as you don’t ask them what happened in the years they disappeared.

BONUS: SILAS, THE SHADOW. [they/he]

they’re the darkness itself. people have personified them over time, to scare their children or warn them of dangerous creatures that lurk at night—but they didn’t realize they were describing someone real.

[not a true romance route]

#announcement #cerise #ink\void duology #twine game #interactive fiction

[stayteezdreams]

Finding out they are supernatural creatures {ot8!Ateez}

Scenario: Hurt to comfort when reader finds out their bf!ateez is some kind of mythical or supernatural creature

Pairings: Supernatural Creature!Ateez x Gn!Reader

Requested By: @otakutrash669

Warnings: Vague mentions of blood (Seonghwa's). Mention of drunk driving (Yunhos). Near-death's in Yunhos and Jonghos. Suggestive/Sexual references (Wooyoungs).

A/n: Not all of this will be accurate, I made some shit up. Also, I only read through it once so sorry if there are any errors.

Words: ~2.6k

-Stray Kids Version-

Seonghwa {Vampire}

As careful as Seonghwa was, you noticed too many peculiar things to not become suspicious.

The peculiar red liquid you were not allowed to touch that he regarded as a disgusting medicine he took. Medicine for a disease that apparently made him so sensitive to sunlight he had to wear a special sunscreen.

Then there was the fact that sometimes his teeth seemed sharper than other times, as if they changed.

Naturally your mind wandered to the thought of him being a vampire. Ultimately you thought it was ridiculous, and let it go.

But one day, you couldn't keep it to yourself.

He once again made sure you did not accidentally drink the red liquid, and you joked "I'm starting to think you're a vampire and it's you're blood stash."

It was a joke. Until you saw the fear that crossed his face. When he realized you were joking he quickly reacted with a fake laugh and you became more than suspicious.

"Seonghwa. Is it blood?" "...No of course not." "Seonghwa."

When he noticed your suspicion turning into fear, he had to tell you. He was of course afraid you were going to run, the scream, to call the police.

But you waited for him to explain everything, and to prove it. That was the most important part.

Once he proved it, you were in shock, but almost amazed. You couldn't help but ask question after question.

When you promised you weren't going to tell anyone he was more relieved. But he still feared you would be afraid of him.

He gave you a long speech bout how he will never hurt you, how he has control, and will protect you. You knew he meant it. And honestly, you never feared him, not even for a second.

Hongjoong {Demon}

You found out Hongjoong was a demon when you accidentally summoned him.

He had a bunch of old books he said were collectors items, and things he collected when studying Latin and various religious studies.

One day, when he left you alone to go deal with something, you flipped through the books.

You came across a passage you couldn't really figure out, but what you did recognize, was Hongjoongs name, written within the script.

Curious, you recited the passage out loud, and when the room suddenly grew cold, you turned around to see a black mass forming. You grew terrified as you fled to the corner of the room.

When the black smoke faded, revealing your confused boyfriend, you stared at each other in silence.

His eyes flicked to the table where he saw the passage and his heart dropped.

He knew he would tell you one day about what he really was, but he kept putting it off, for fear you would leave him.

But now, as you were cowering in the corner in confusion and fear, he had no choice.

"Hongjoong, what-" He lifted his hands and spoke slowly as he walked towards you. "I can explain."

"Demon." "Yes." "You're a Demon." "Yes."

Hongjoongs heart dropped when you left in near silence, muttering about how you just needed some time alone to think. But he understood, letting you leave, though the sight tore him apart.

If Hongjoong were to tell you he was a demon on any other day you would have thought he was joking or had gone crazy. But since you had literally summoned him in front of your very own eyes, you couldn't deny it.

Nor could you deny the way his eyes were fully black, or the horns that were on his head before he changed back into his normal appearance right in front of you.

You knew he didn't want to scare you but you were scared. It took you a while to figure out that you weren't afraid of him necessarily. He was Hongjoong, and he loved you.

But you were afraid of the knowledge that came with this, that there could be more secrets, more lies.

So you confronted him. And he was more than glad to open up fully now that you knew. He would do anything for you and tell you anything you wanted to know, as long as you stayed.

Yunho {Nephilim}

You knew Yunho had mixed feeling about when you called him your 'Angel'

The first time he seemed flustered and almost recoiled. But he slowly warmed up to it, even saying he was your Guardian Angel, or your "Personal Angel".

Sometimes when you used the pet-name he seemed to withdrawal in himself for a moment, as if he wanted to say something. But instead he would just smile and press a kiss to your forehead.

Then one day, you almost died. You should have died.

You were seconds away from the drunk driver hitting you as you walked down the street, then before you knew it, you were in Yunho's arms, and surrounding you, were large wings, growing out from his back.

Then you learned everything. Why the pet-name threw him of, why he sometimes seemed like he wanted to say something but changed his mind. Why he dubbed himself your personal Angel.

He shouldn't exist. His mother was human, and his father a fallen angel. He was half of each.

Yunho was forced to hide what he was for his whole life and it wasn't until he met you that he thought he didn't have to hide anymore. But the fear still stopped him from telling you.

He liked the idea of being your personal Guardian Angel, but was still afraid you would not want him to be if you learned what he truly was

But it didn't change how you felt. Though you were hurt he had not told you sooner, you quickly realized his choices and reasoning were more important.

You forgave him, and swore to him you would keep his secret.

You bond only got stronger after you leaned what he was, and he no longer hid it from you. Sometimes you would even find him walking around the house with his wings out.

You adored them, and him, and he adored you.

He was your personal guardian Angel, and you were the love of his life.

Yeosang {Fairy}

You knew Yeosang was hiding something, and when you confronted him, his saying he was a Fairy was the last thing you expected.

You expected that he wanted to break up, or that he had fallen for someone else, something that would explain his recent behavior and all the secrets he was keeping.

But the excuse he gave you only hurt you more. It was such a ridiculous lie, the truth would have hurt less.

"What do you take me for? If you want to break up with me, just do it Yeosang." You stormed off leaving Yeosang to scramble after you.

He didn't realize just how ridiculous it would sound. Of course you wouldn't believe him.

When he got you alone again, after much convincing and a bit of begging on his side. He showed you it was not a lie.

He thought it would be something he would have to hide forever out of fear. Of course you would figure out something was off.

But the idea that you thought he wanted to leave you, that you thought it was another person stealing him away from you and not this. That was not worth it.

So he showed you his wings and his magic, he proved he was a fairy. And to say you were shocked was an understatement.

When you finally came out of your stupor, and you realized you were in fact not going crazy, you were amazed.

You couldn't even really be mad that he hid it, of course he would, he was a fairy. He needed to know he could trust you with his secret.

And he assured you that he did, that it was just his fear stopping him.

He was sorry. Sorry that he did not trust you enough, when you deserved more. He hated that you were tormenting yourself with 'What If's', and reasons he was hiding secrets.

But once you reassured him that you understood and forgave him, he made sure you knew everything. And he promised to never keep anything from you again.

San {Shapeshifter}

You figured out San was a shape-shifter with deductive reasoning.

One day, a beautiful black cat showed up at your house, sheltering itself from the rain.

You let it in, dried him off, and let him go.

He became a common visitor to your house after that.

And then one day, instead of a black cat, you met a man named San. He told you the cat was his and he found out where he was going when he would get out.

You bonded with San, and eventually started dating.

But, you never saw the cat and San at the same time.

And you couldn't help but think they had the same eyes, and the same mannerisms.

You thought you were crazy, but you couldn't shake the gut feeling that you were right.

And when San slipped and mentioned something he wouldn't know about, something that happened when he was not present, but his cat was, you put it together.

The next time the cat visited you, you were sitting on your porch.

You sighed, heart pounding, stared deep into his eyes and spoke.

"Hello San."

The cat seemed to freeze, before slowly he grew bigger, before San was standing in front of you, eyes full of surprise as you stared at him.

"I was right." You muttered breathlessly, and he slowly approached you. "How long have you known?"

"I think I knew from the beginning in a way. But I wasn't certain until recently."

"Aren't you afraid?" "Should I be?"

He shook his head softly "I'd ever hurt you." "I know that San. But why didn't you tell me sooner?"

You could tell he was apprehensive. Perhaps he thought you would be afraid, maybe you'd tell someone who could hurt him.

"I wouldn't hurt you either." You admitted softly.

He would take your face in his hands. "I know that. I'm sorry, I should have told you, I just... No one knows, and the idea of someone, anyone knowing, I don't know I guess I was scared."

Your relationship grew stronger after this as he learned to put all of his trust in you, and you learned to do the same.

Mingi {Werewolf}

When you learned what Mingi was, you were in shock. You left, and ended up avoided him.

You needed to gather your thoughts and get over the shock before figuring out what to do.

He waited impatiently to hear from you again, even going to your house to check on you, though never telling you he was there.

Mingi wanted nothing more than to talk to you, to see you, to hold you, but he resisted, making sure to give you the time you needed to adjust.

All he could do was hope and pray you would come back to him.

He was so afraid to tell you what he was for fear of you leaving or being afraid, but he would fight as hard as he could to keep you.

Mingi would never harm you, our put you in harms way.

When he first fell for you, he tried his hardest to ignore the feelings, being to afraid to fall in love. But no matter how hard he tried, he could not ignore the feelings.

He told you all of this after admitting what he was, but you still left, uncertain of what to do and what to think.

You knew you loved him, and after a week of not seeing him after learning he was a werewolf, you realized your feelings would not change. All you did was miss him more every day.

When you finally gave in and went to go see him again, he scooped you up in his arms out of relief and joy.

He wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms again.

And when he was holding you, you knew it didn't matter what he was, or what he hid from you, you would love him all the same.

Wooyoung {Demon/Incubus}

Wooyoung drunkenly told you he was the descendant of an Incubus demon one night, and you simply thought it was a weird joke at first.

But when he was sober, you noticed he watched you wearily, as if trying to figure out if he really told you, and to see if you had believed him.

You started to wonder if maybe it wasn't a joke after all. So you started to pay more attention, and you did some research.

It all seemed so unbelievable, but some things started to add up.

The way he seemed to pull things off that were impossible, how he could get to you faster than he should be able to. How he always seemed to know when you needed him. Not to mention his heightened sexual drive.

A short time after that night passed, and Wooyoung seemed to relax around you again, you asked him straight up if what he said was true.

He was obviously startled, stumbling and stuttering over his words as he tried to lie to you.

If it wasn't true he would have laughed and been able to play it off, but you knew he had a hard time lying to you, so it became obvious that it was true, or at least some of it.

"Wooyoung." He could hear in your tone that there was no point in trying to lie so he gave in.

He confessed everything, and even proved it to you.

You were in shock, but not as much as you thought you would be, to both of your surprise.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

He shrugged "I didn't want you to be afraid of me."

"I would never be afraid of you Wooyoung."

He was relieved, and became emotional and apologetic, swearing he would never hide anything from you again.

Jongho {Demi-God}

You weren't supposed to know what Jongho was at least not yet.

But when you were put in danger from someone looking for Jongho, he had to protect you no matter what.

You knew he was strong, but when he was able to knock over a wall with one punch, you knew there was more to it.

You watched him fight with powers you had not expected while protecting you from the mysterious man who showed up and threatened to hurt you.

You were in the middle of something you didn't know how to explain, but you knew Jongho was protecting you, and would do with with his life if needed.

Luckily you both made it out, and he took you somewhere safe.

He explained to you what he was, who he was the descendant of, and why he could do the things he could.

You were amazed, and shocked, and confused. Any resentment you held towards Jongho for keeping this secret from you faded when you saw how nervous he was, obviously afraid of how you would react.

He answered every question you asked, and patiently waited as you thought over everything.

When you approached him after a few hours and he apprehensively watched you, you wrapped your arms around him and he melted, relaxing in relief at your touch.

He swore he would protect you, and keep you safe, and you believed him.

Even if you were put in danger as your life seemed to change, you would not leave his side.

xx End xx

Not sure how I feel about some of thee, but it is what it is lol

General Taglist: @otsilliak, @brattybunfornct, @bahng-chrizz, @otakutrash669

Ateez Taglist: @soso59love-blog, @thunderous-wolf

Jongho Taglist: @lieutenantn

#ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez/reader #ateez imagine #ot8!ateez x reader #park seonghwa x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #jeong yunho x reader #kang yeosang x reader #choi san x reader #song mingi x reader #jung wooyoung x reader #choi jongho x reader #13 days of halloween #seonghwa imagine #hongjoong imagine #yunho imagine #yeosang imagine #san imagine #mingi imagine #wooyoung imagine #jongho imagine #ateez fanfic #stayteezdreams

[blackopals-world]

Oh, okay, I see! Umm. I have a couple things to throw out, that also have my own thoughts and I was also thinking of other possible Yuu ideas if you’re interested in them( just what their “!” Is for and personality, not who they’re matched with) and up to hearing about them. Uh. This ask though is for the creature post and-

Me, a person who loves mythology and folklore: My time has come-

Theatre kid!Yuu as a changeling(or some other shapeshifting creature, I know of the background surrounding changelings and can understand why one may be uncomfortable with changelings(I am also the ✨neurodivergent✨))

Harpy!Yuu as a Manananggal(I know that harpies are already mythical creatures, but think about it)

Maid!Yuu as a Brownie (yes, you read that right, though it can also be spelt “broonie” or “brùnaidh” and they are a type of fae, but ,ah)

Special Forces!Yuu as a Grim Reaper(I just think it’d be neat if their role was to guide and protect the dead on the way to the afterlife instead of being what people usually expect/think of reapers, and also because they themself are often depicted as scary and dangerous, and they are, but they more so just. Guide souls to the after)

Vet!Yuu OR Marine Biologist!Yuu as a Selkie(I want them to go on a rant of how selkies are NOT half seal half human, their lower body is NOT that of a seal!(this is my being frustrated by Selkie designs that aren’t actually selkies, but the art is still really good/nice))

Oookay, that’s all of them that I had prepared. Uh. And of course, these are just suggestions, you don’t have to add anything if you don’t want to or you can pick and choose which you’re interested, I hope this isn’t coming off as forced and I apologize if it does-

🎭Theater Kid!Yuu- Shapeshifter

The ultimate actor.

Can play any role and use any voice.

They spend time endlessly rehearsing.

Likes to play pranks by pretending to be an injured animal to have people take care of them.

Allergic to iron.

Will not use their powers responsibly

They don't consider any one form their true form. They simply are.

Agender icon.

"What's gender? Is it edible?"

🧹 Maid!Yuu- Brownie

Got inside after someone left a bowl of cream out

They set up shop and began cleaning at night.

During the day they hide out in the form of a dormouse.

They have a fuzzy tail

They fix up broken items. You might find an extra mismatched button on your shirts.

Don't leave a mess on purpose. It's impolite.

If they feel taken advantage of they with make a mess and leave.

Leave out a treat for them and they will reward you in kind.

You'll never lose an item again. It will appear just where you remember it. Unfortunately, that always the last place you look.

🔫Special Forces!Yuu-Reaper

It's hard work and the coworkers are the worst.

One of the many reapers tasked with dealing with the recently deceased.

Really prickly due to being constantly tasked with the most stubborn ghosts.

"Shut up before I kill you again!"

Believes Sam was a Reaper (is he? Possibly)

Their skin has white skeleton tattoos. But when they are working their skin turns translucent and reveals their actual skeleton.

Enjoys their job when they actually get to do it without problems.

Believes in the myth they tell all reapers about that guy sisyphus.

Their favorite job is chasing down wondering souls that are on the run.

💉Nurse!Yuu - Caladrius

They have white wings.

Gets confused for a angel but they are firm that they are not.

Their job is to take sickness and transfer it into their body. Then they fly away with it as they disperse it, healing themselves.

Gives away feathers to ward off danger and illness.

Hates that Savanaclaw students use them as a cat toy.

A long suffering birdy who is losing too many feathers.

🩺 Vet!Yuu- Werewolf

Not the same as beastmen and is firm about that.

They look human most of the time but the whole transformation thing gets in the way.

Is still a vet but if now they are liable to snap their jaws at patients.

They love a good nap in the sun but must resist.

Jack knows to keep his head down if he doesn't want to get along. That just how wolves do. Make nice in the pack or be pushed out.

They don't imprint. If you say that they will rip out your throat.

They don't have soulmates. They have normal relationships like normal people. They just believe in loyalty to make relationships last. They can change partners but they usually don't.

🌊Marine Biologist!Yuu- Selkie

Not a mer just a cute rolly polly seal.

Such a friendly face, but they have sharp teeth.

Keeps their seal skin hidden away.

These days if someone does take their skin they are trained to attack them. Watch out they go for the fingers first.

The seal skin is unique to every selkie so it can't be replaced.

They will always choose the ocean if it came between it and love. But Yuu is a strange Selkie.

They know the tale of Ursilla, a human who loved a male selkie. This is part of why they believe they are destined to be with Azul so that history repeats itself.

Selkies lure their human partners into the sea and most tales say they never return. Yuu attempted with Azul not knowing he was a mer. Very embarrassing.

#theater kid!yuu #maid!yuu #nurse!yuu #vet!yuu #marine biologist!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #twst yuu #twst mc #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #special forces!yuu

[petersprincesss]

Security Measures

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything… but I decided IM BACK BABY!

It felt like it was time for some good old fashioned smut. I really went back to my roots with this one. I still personally prefer to refer to this character as Peter Ballard, and that’s gonna be his name in the fic. I apologize if that’s not your thing, but you don’t have to read it 🫶🏻

Genre: Porn with minimal plot

Rating: so crazy explicit lmao. Minors please leave 💞

Tags: dom!Peter, sub!female!, bdsm kinda?, edging, fingering, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dubcon? kinda?, choking, hitting, hair pulling… all that good stuff

As always, I appreciate any and all feedback. You know I love to hear you, baby 🙏🏻

Hawkins National Laboratory was going to be the biggest story in my journalism career. Like many children in this area of Indiana, I had grown up hearing all kinds of rumors, stories and conspiracies surrounding the mythic brick building in the woods.

Being a casual column writer for the Indianapolis Recorder gave me access to plenty of information, but most of it felt so mundane compared to what I might be able to uncover in the source of all my childhood nightmares. Through my boss, I was able to secure an interview with one Dr. Martin Brenner, the supposed mastermind behind the madness. The only question now was whether or not I would learn the truth.

Parked outside of the structure, it felt no different than those creepy campfire tales my friends and I had swapped in our youth. This time, however, I knew I was going to go inside. I was going to settle fact and fiction.

I smoothed out my smart pencil skirt and clutched my notepad and two pens close to my chest (I had to have two, just in case one ran out in the middle of the interview, but I had tested them both twice before leaving the house). My modest high heels clicked against the pavement before stopping at the tall glass front door. I took one final deep breath before pulling it open.

The lobby was beyond what I was expecting. Panels of sleek, dark wood lined the walls, and a kind-eyed brunette woman sat behind a mahogany desk with a warmly lit lamp set atop it.

“How can I help you?” She spoke, folding her fingers together and resting them on her appointment book.

“I have a two o’clock with Dr. Brenner,” I replied. I could feel my knuckles turning white around my notepad.

The young lady glanced down at her calendar before tapping twice on my name.

“You’re right on time. I’ll buzz you through the main doors. Go down the hallway and go through security. They’ll guide you from there.”

“Thank you so much,” I responded, already making my way around her desk towards a set of hospital-like doors. She pressed a button behind her desk, sending a buzzing ring throughout the lobby, followed by the click of the door’s lock. I swung it open and entered a lengthy hallway lined with sterile white tile.

Scents of various disinfectants stung my nose as I rushed down the corridor. My watch read twelve minutes before two, and I prayed whatever security measures I had to clear wouldn’t take long.

Around the hallway’s corner stood a second pair of doors with a metal detector and X-ray machine before them. A slender, blonde-haired man dressed in all white stood patiently with his hands clasped in front of his belt next to the machinery.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Dr. Brenner,” I sputtered, paying no mind to the orderly as I set my belongings on the conveyor belt into the X-ray.

“Just remove your shoes, jacket and anything in your pockets,” his gentle voice instructed me.

I followed his orders, sending each of my items into the machine before I stood tall in front of the metal detector. The spotlessly clean man mirrored my stance on the opposite side. Our eyes met for a second before he silently raised two fingers and motioned me towards him with them. I felt a sting of intimidation rush through me as he locked his eyes on me while I stepped forward. My heart skipped a beat when the metal detector beeped.

“It’s okay. Step out and try again,” he commanded, his eyes still motionless.

I did as I was told, stepping backwards and then forwards. The metallic chime rang out once more.

“Are you wearing any jewelry?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.

“None at all…” I trailed off, touching my earlobes, fingers and neck.

“…Any I can’t see?” He spoke softly.

My eyes shot up to his, half offended by the question, “No.”

“One last time, then. Raise your hands above your head this time.”

I repeated my action, raising my hands as instructed. As predicted, the machine buzzed again.

“I’m going to have to pat you down. We’ll step into the security office for some privacy, okay?”

“Excuse me?” I spat, feeling my eyebrows raise with my temper.

“You don’t have to,” he smiled kindly, “you can always leave.”

I wished in my heart that he was joking, but I could tell he was deathly serious.

“Fine,” I spat, shaking my head in disbelief.

“You can put your shoes back on,” the orderly spoke gently. He picked up my blazer and notepad for me as I slipped my feet back into my heels impatiently.

“Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.

“Right this way,” he gestured into an open door. I walked in before him, nervously kneading my knuckles.

He set my items on a sterile steel table and turned to face me as I glanced around the office. The walls were the same bland tile, nothing on them except for a clock, which read ten minutes before two.

“Please hurry, I don’t want to be late for my meeting,” I pleaded, feeling the rising urge to tap my heels.

“You won’t be, I promise,” a cheeky smile spoke, “I’m Peter by the way.”

“Great, nice to meet you Peter. Let’s go,” I hurried him, not bothering to introduce myself to the security guard orderly that I would never see again.

“Arms out, feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed. I obeyed yet again.

His palms clasped around the top of my right thigh and began to slowly pat inches at a time down my leg.

“You don’t have a female security guard to do this?” I huffed.

“I’m afraid not. The only women here are the nurse and the secretary,” Peter sighed. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the response.

Once down to my ankle, he raised his hands to check left leg, but the tip of his thumb grazed me where I was most sensitive, causing my breath to hitch. I prayed he hadn’t noticed as he worked his way further down.

“Nothing yet…” he reported once down to my foot.

A lightbulb went off in my head. My IUD. I had a copper birth control device in my cervix. Could that have set off the metal detector? Surely copper couldn’t trigger it. But what else could it possibly be? I knew that I genuinely had nothing, but how could I tell Peter that without proving it?

Peter began to pat down my right arm, from shoulder to wrist, before moving to my left.

“Listen, I swear I have nothing. I’m just a journalist…” I began to bargain.

“I actually do believe you, but it’s just laboratory protocol,” Peter grinned. His eyes shone a bright blue even in the dingy fluorescent lighting, and I felt a twinge of happiness that at least he was a gentleman.

“The metal detector indicated something at waist level, so I’ll need to examine there further. Again, you may leave at any time.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through my nose.

“Okay. Let’s get it over with.”

“I’m just going to slide two fingers into the waist band of your skirt, okay?” Peter informed more than he asked.

“Okay,” I nodded with a deep breath.

As he had narrated, his slender index and middle fingers from each hand slipped into the top of my skirt next to my hip bones, resting atop the hem. As I exhaled, the pressure on his knuckles decreased, the warmth of them abandoning the crisp caress of my blouse.

“Just going to slide them around to the back now,” he gently described his action. As promised, those slim fingers slithered around my hips towards my spine.

With his arms around my waist, I paused to glance at his sapphire eyes, preciously surveying his work. A breath left his lips and cascaded down my chest just as he lifted his touch from my body.

“All looks well, but I’m afraid that means I still have searching to do,” Peter sighed, clasping his hands in front of his belt buckle.

“This is ridiculous,” I fumed, “look, it must have been a fluke. I promise I just want to go to my interview and then leave.”

Peter’s doe-like eyes blinked innocently as I ranted.

“I believe you, miss, I really do. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision. You may either continue, or leave the facility,” his honeyed, overly calm voice stated.

“Fine. What next?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

Peter cleared his throat as his eyes darted to the floor between us before responding, “I’ll need you to remove your skirt so I may assess what’s underneath.”

“Assess what’s underneath? What are you, a fucking cop?” I protested, my voice growing in volume with each syllable. Peter didn’t bat an eye.

“You’re welcome to leave at any time, but this is protocol,” he assured me, “I’ll turn away while you undress.”

I thought back to all the time I had spent dreaming about being able to interview Dr. Brenner. The countless nights of sleep I lost staring at my ceiling dreaming about what I would write and what questions I would ask. Was I really going to back out now? Could I just chalk this up to one of the things a girl has to do to fulfill a dream?

I silently nodded and Peter turned on his heels to face the door.

The parting of the zipper was the only noise in the uncomfortable silence. I shimmied my skirt off my hips, allowing it to pool around my ankles before picking it up and grasping it timidly at my waist. The cool, sterile air brushed across my bare backside, sending a wave of goosebumps up to my neck.

“Okay,” I spoke shakily.

The orderly turned back to me and immediately placed his hand on my skirt. I allowed him to take it, kneading my fingers anxiously with nothing left to protect my modesty.

Peter crouched curiously at eye-level with my panties. I felt like a common whore standing before the stranger in nothing but my undergarments and high heels. Of course, today was the day I had decided to wear garters instead of regular pantyhose, which only amplified my bashfulness.

“Could have been these,” he noted, slipping his index finger beneath one of the nude garter straps holding up my stocking, snapping one of the metallic clasps against my thigh.

I felt my heart rate increase dramatically beneath his touch. Blood rushed to my core, causing a noticeable temperature increase between my legs. The visual alone of golden blonde locks kneeling before me was enough to create a knot in my abdomen that grew harder and harder to ignore.

The orderly tsked and shook his head, “I think that’s too small of an amount of metal. It must be something else.”

My palms began to grow clammy as I debated telling him about my contraceptive. 


“Could there be something… inside you? A medical device, perhaps?” Peter asked, his eyes shooting up to mine from between my legs. I had to tell him now.

“Yes,” I spat out, feeling my stomach turn, “I have a copper birth control device.”

“I see…” he trailed off, shifting his gaze to the floor.

“That’s it. I know that’s all. I was just scared to tell you, I had this crazy idea that you would have to confirm it or something.” I blurted, vomiting my words all over him.

A silence grew between us, and Peter’s choice not to disprove my absurd theory became increasingly worrisome. Finally, he rose to his feet, returning to his polite stance with his hands held above his belt.

“I”m afraid that actually is the case,” Peter finally confessed.

My head fell back as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes imagining what exactly this process might look like. I glanced back at the clock on the wall. I had seven minutes left.

“You better be fucking fast,” I voiced sternly, turning back to those blue eyes.

“Not a problem. Remember, you may leave at any time,” he reassured me.

I nodded as he gestured towards a padded table lined with parchment-like paper, beckoning me to lay back across it. I relaxed back against it, closing my eyes as the orderly shuffled over and stood patiently next to the table.

“Would you like to remove your undergarments, or would you prefer I work around them?” He asked cordially, as if any of this process was anything less than crass.

“I’m in a hurry, just do what you have to do,” I instructed, closing my eyes and clasping my hands above my stomach.

His fingertips wasted no time snaking under my panties and pushing them aside. I exhaled slowly as his warm touch glided over my pussy.

“Breathe for me,” he guided. On my next inhale, he slipped a finger inside me.

Something between a pornographic moan and a wince escaped me, and I found myself biting my lip to prevent more from following it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” that silvery voice cooed.

A twinge of shame crawled from my stomach to my chest as I realized that I was already dripping wet from the interaction. Something about his maintained innocence -everything from his crisp white uniform to his “this is strictly protocol” attitude”- ignited a craving I didn’t know I had. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to make me miss my interview.

“Okay, I think I feel the string,” Peter remarked, shifting his body to give his arm a better angle.

I felt his finger begin to slide out of me when I jolted my eyes open and gripped his wrist assertively.

“Are you sure?” Was all I could managed to spit out.

I lessened my grasp on his wrist and relaxed slightly, “I mean. Are you positive? You don’t need more time?”

“I’m fairly certain, I mean…” he trailed off, clearly missing the memo.

“Peter,” I finally spoke his name, “I think you need to check more thoroughly.”

“Are you sure? You’re going to miss your interview…” those blue eyes batted at me, and suddenly I wasn’t the one feeling so bashful.

“Fuck my interview,” I moaned, guiding his middle finger up to join his index inside me.

“Oh my,” Peter’s voice dropped an octave and those precious blue eyes shifted infernal.

“Please?” I urged, shifting to allow him better access.

“I don’t know,” he falsely contemplated, sinking two fingers into my pussy as he spoke, “are you going to be good for me?”

I choked on a moan rising in my throat before closing my eyes and nodding rapidly. Peter clicked his tongue, uncertain of my answer. I squeezed my eyes tightly and allowed my chest to relax. The grim, florescent light suddenly felt warmer as his slender fingers thrust into me.

“Jesus,” he remarked, slowing his pace, “tightening up on me already, hmm?”

I whined a vague response, bucking my hips against him. Wordlessly, Peter grabbed my leg nearest to him and swung kit over his head so it rested atop his shoulder and stepped forward, forcing my back to arch to accommodate him. Whimpers flowed freely from me as he quickened his pace, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes to look down and take in the sight of his fingers sinking into me.

With his free hand, he reached up and snatched a fistful of hair at the crown of my head and jerked forward, “That’s right, watch my fingers fuck you.”

Whimpers fell into wanton moans, and Peter switched to using his middle and ring finger, curling devilishly where I needed him most.

“Shit, Peter, I’m going to c-“

Before I could even speak the words, the orderly removed his touch entirely from my pussy and released his grip on my hair. My leg slid off of his shoulder, hung carelessly off the edge of the table. Dumbfounded, my misty eyes searched for his. Peter stood motionless, watching me with no readable expression on his face.

Once I had managed to find my breath a little, he spoke, “Are you done?”

“What? No, I was about to and you-“

The back of Peter’s hand landed a heavy smack across my cheek as he leaned in close to whisper, “Are you done being a needy bitch?”

Holding my stinging cheek, I gazed up at him in erotic trepidation.

“Y-yes,” I whispered, not even convincing myself of my answer.

“Good,” he praised, creeping his hand back to my pussy, “let’s continue.”

My panties were pushed to the side once more, and my body lurched forward onto Peter’s fingers as they writhed back into me. He leaned over me, placing his free hand at the base of my neck and whispered in my ear, “I knew you were fucking dirty the second you walked around that corner.”

I felt myself grip him tighter as he accused me, enthralled with his whorish perception of me.

“Fuck, I’m so glad you had to search me, Peter,” I panted, squirming beneath him as his grip on my neck grew stronger.

A sinister chuckle crept from his throat, “I know, baby. Almost like it was meant to be, hmm?”

His question would have felt more ominous if the orgasm that I was fighting against wasn’t growing stronger by the second. I writhed beneath him harshly, now with the intention of staving myself off until Peter was ready. I spread my legs further for him, wrapping my right calf around his waist to give him direct access. My toes curled against the inside of my shoes as I struggled to pull him closer to me.

“Please, Peter, I can’t hold it back much longer,” I squealed, my vision blurring as I starred up at the bleak white ceiling tiles.

“What’s that? Are you begging me to let you cum?” Peter mocked, slowing his pace ever so slightly.

I nodded intently, feeling my chin brush against his knuckles.

“Almost. I know you can hold out just a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He positioned his face just inches from mine, tilting his chin up so he still looked down upon me. Appearing pathetic no longer mattered to me, I just wanted him to grant me release.

“Yes,” I told a half-truth. If he quickened his pace in the slightest, there would be no more waiting.

The stern grip on my throat vanished, his hand now working its way to the collar of my blouse. Without breaking eye contact, Peter effortlessly undid two of my buttons, leaving my sternum and the center of my bra exposed. Nimble fingers pushed the cup of my bra to the side, leaving half of my chest fully exposed. He traced around my nipple slowly at first, sending a shockwave sensation through my abdomen. As my pleasure peaked higher and higher, Peter’s lips swapped with his fingers, sucking teasingly at my flesh.

“Christ, I can’t- I have to-“ I stuttered between breaths.

“Go ahead. Let me hear you cum,” Peter permitted.

My leg’s grip on his waist doubled, and in my senseless passion, my hands clawed at his shoulders and across his back, finally releasing myself upon him. A stream of curses and lustful whimpers echoed through the overly-hygienic office, mixing flawlessly with Peter’s determined grunts as he pushed himself. Peter lifted his head from my chest as my climax began to fade, a bead of sweat falling from his furrowed brow to my sternum. His sapphire eyes bore into mine as the two of us panted back and forth.

“Taste yourself,” Peter commanded, sliding his fingers out of me and up to my tongue. I obliged, pleased at how his scent mingled with my taste. Pearly white teeth smiled approvingly at how eager I was to fill his request.

“I have a confession to make,” the orderly informed, bracing his weight on his palm, now resting next to my head.

“Yes?” I replied, slipping his fingers out of my mouth and holding them delicately between my own.

“I always set off the metal detector when pretty girls come through.”

#stranger things #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #peter ballard #001 #henry creel #vecna #stranger things 4 #fics #peter ballard smut #001 smut #smut #henry creel smut #peter x reader #x reader #my work

[radiance1]

Okay, so, I saw your Chaos emeralds DC X Dp prompt and I thought, "What about The Digimentals from digimon 02?" Think about it, they are abstract and embody certain Virtues and concepts tied to them! What if Danny, Sam, and Tucker did the thing with Digimentals instead of the Emeralds! It'd be fun and interesting to think up the Armor evos for them, because they all have different point with each Crest. Like Danny Definitely has a wolf or other big canine for the friendship Digimental due to his protectiveness towards it friends, plus his affinity to Canine ghosts in the show, I'm willing to bet many of his Armor evos would be canine related, like Sincerity would be like a Shinto Fox Priest and Hope would be Canis Major or the Dog star.

-Just incase the ideas of the Digimental are foreign to you? They don't need to be inspired by every concept of the digimental.-Courage: bravery, Reptiles, Sun, Religious beliefs related to sun, dinosaurs, Minor dragon, fire.

-Friendship: standard forest animals, Ice or lightning.

-Love: wind, flying, affection, love towards certain things(abstract, love of home, friends, romance, platonic, Hatred(the negative side of love as it is not its opposite, rather its dark side), native American elements.

-Sincerity: plants and Japanese(shinto and taoism) culture.

-Knowledge: Earth, insects, drills.

-Reliability: water, aquatic life(natural or mythical) and or combined with aquatic craft(vehicles).

-Kindness: friendliness, compassion, Cutelike, Red Gloves for some reason.

-Light: Egyptian myth, Angel like wings.

-Hope: stars, Greek mythology, constellations, zodiac.

-Miracles: fairly abstract one, mainly golden armor, (possible ideas be like divine beings, or even imbodiments of a miracle or being able to bring out certain miracles, like a Djinn). Or being able to do something conceivably impossible, like becoming a Flying Elephant!

-Fate/destiny: similar to miracles, gold armor, being able to affect fate in some way, change the fate of others, to control your own destiny.

I'm sorry, I've been looking at this anyway I can and can't, really, think of much for this...

But imagine Constantine getting absolutely dogpiled by three teens just because he breathed wrongly around them while the big three is calmly sipping tea with one of said teens parents.

Constantine is out here magicking his life away, not knowing what he even did wrong, all because three kids decided to just ruin his day.

And you know what? They did indeed, effectively ruin his day even harder than it was already.

Meanwhile, Batman is done in the Fenton lab, stoic face yet marveling at the technology they managed to make with household items and limited amounts of money.

Wonderwoman is fisting fighting sentient food and wondering if she could find a way to take these home, while Clark is just sitting there being there pretty and talking with Jack Fenton.

Of course, Superman and Wonderwoman can hear Constantine fighting for his life, but its like, whatever.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dcxdp #That idea was SO old that I literally forgot about it I'm not gonna lie.

[ms-scarletwings]

We gotta start accurately calling Sly Cooper a low fantasy universe at some point. It’s retrospectively wild how much supernatural shit is going on in front of your face that you don’t think about because it’s like… nothing to the characters that it’s happening to. People who have never played Sly Cooper have no clue how nonchalantly it grinds this rail between just “real world noire but furries” and straight up DC superpowers stuff.

• The surprising amount of undead, in hindsight

Black magic is just, you know, a thing…. and outside of when it’s the weapon of choice of the villain of the week, it’s not even really brought up. Tsao was building an army of honest to god vampires and Mz.Ruby has been fraternizing with homemade ghouls since she was a child. A second-game side quest involves descetrating a tomb, kidnapping a bunch of restless ghosts, and then unleashing them on the cops for a good prank. For Pete’s sake, Clockwerk, biggest bad of the franchise, is basically an eldritch machine possessed by the vengeful spirit of someone who became too petty and angry to die.

• There are people born with innate superpowers

So, there is no debate going on with the deal about Cooper abilities and this point, right? Sure, the Theivious Raccoonus has a lot of good pointers any thief worth their salt could gain from, but I don’t think it’s a stretch to say somethings along the lines of gliding down lasers or turning invisible on command are a bit out of most readers’ capabilities. The 1st game’s humor in explaining off gameplay mechanics as in-universe phenomena had the unintended consequence of establishing that the Cooper clan members literally have a criminally inclined sort of spidey sense- literally hallucinating glowing auras and blue sparkles around anything both valuable and not nailed down. I think I also awkward appreciated the parallel to be spotted between the Cooper honer code and the self imposed limitations other media supers live by. That idea of “you have the gift of amazing power and you will choose to use it responsibly”, all the better here for the ways in which the clan’s premise subverts classic hero/villain dynamics.

• Ancient techniques of sorcery

run right alongside conventional weaponry

Some supers are born in this world, a lot of them are made. As if anyone with the time to practice and learn can just pick it up like karate. Religion has to be crazy in Sly Cooper considering there’s entire spiritualisms given demonstrable and epic power in what their followers are capable of. Murray literally can do some degree of magic from the third game and onward and there’s no telling what else he learned over the course of his Dreamtime training. Anyone with the wits and resources of the Contessa can figure out how to toy around with freaking mind controlling dark arts. Don’t get me started again on the whole “army of undead” thing which gets even weirder by the implication that the world does nothing to regulate these kind of abilities UP AND UNTIL the user starts to roleplay a cocky little warlord with their zombie friends. And Flame Fu is right there. A lot of what the panda king can do is closer to Bentley’s realm- very complicated and meticulous works of pyrotechnics, but Flame Fu is a whole something else that belongs in this discussion.

• Magical items and mythical beasts

The Mask of Dark Earth, the guru’s special stone, an entire kraken, a whole laundry list of things in The Contessa’s possession, an enormous swamp serpent, haunted trees, whatever the hell kind of ring Dimitri was wearing in the second game, a giant stone dragon statue that turns out to be AN ACTUAL FREAKING DRAGON in dormancy, a supercharged ancient bamboo forest, potentially the Cooper cane itself, and the not-to-be-overlooked every single piece of Clockwerk’s cursed body. I know I’m probably forgetting something because that was just off the cuff. It’s kind of wild that most of what we watch the Coopers focus on stealing can be stuff like museum paintings in a world where magic flying carpets are confirmed to exist. The hell. Why was I ever mocking the pirates in Bloodbath Bay for their paranoia and superstition?? Best part was always that basically none of it phased the resident smarty pants nerd character like it usually would anyone who fills that trope. Because of magic is just an accepted and normalized thing in the world, why WOULD Bentley talk about it any different than he would the history of lumberjacks or combustion physics? Instead of conflicting against his understanding of science, it just tacks onto it as more additional info, you know… the way it would if magic was just another set of rules to study and understand.

#sly cooper #sly cooper analysis #sly cooper and the thievius raccoonus #sly 2 band of thieves #sly 3 honor among thieves #scarlet talks about things

[wordy-little-witch]

Ficlet I had to get outta my head

TW: attempted noncon (thwarted), attempted drugging (partially effective but not really), allusion to traumas and mental illness never specified.

Ships: cross guild poly, pre-relationship but post-feelings lmao

Wild Cross Guild concept but a meeting with a prospective sponsor/partner who deals in smuggled goods and black market trade, where Buggy is Immediately on high alert because something about this woman is absolutely Not Right. He's never been able to explain it in a way that was understood, the ways people sounded and acted and spoke acting as beacons to his attention. He just called it a vibe or declared if he liked or disliked someone. He was rarely wrong, and Buggy was certain that he did not like this lady.

She made a show of pulling the inexperienced boss card, citing her late husband being the founder, the title and responsibilities falling to her in his wake. She brought gifts, armed with a sheepish and hopeful smile, a demure slip of a woman before what, to those on the Seas, were three power houses.

Buggy didn't buy it for a moment. For one, her hands were calloused in such a way that it spoke of weapons training. For another, the gifts were surface levels of striking fancies, but the specificity of them could easily be attributed to luck or simple price. Mihawk enjoyed a fine red wine, which just so happened to be on the more expensive side - aged red wine of a fine quality was never cheap. Crocodile was not prone to hiding his propensity for riches, wealth, jewelry, or his beloved reptiles. His bananawani specifically hailed from their habitats in Alabasta, so the jewelers there doubtlessly made more than a few specialty items with their shape in mind. Finding one worth its price and the mythical associations of the 'wanis could easily be seen as a well-read woman making an effort.

Buggy's gift had been what made him cement his notion.

He spent decades playing the fool and spreading a net woven with lies, misinformation and subterfuge. It was not paranoia if people were truly out to get you, and Buggy knew more than anyone else in the damned world - barring maybe one other - just how quickly the hounds of hell will close at the heels of the weakest links.

His gift had been a treasure chest. Ordinarily, that alone with not cause much sway. No, inside the chest was gold, berri, jewels in many colors barring one. Buggy never wore red jewels, not out of hatred but out of self consciousness, out of paranoia. He had taken that token and tweaked it in a few areas of his proverbial net, citing red as a color he typically abhorred in gems. Some called it conceit. Some called it pettiness, or pickyness, or spoiled brat behaviors. Buggy called it useful.

Within the chest gifted to him was a distinct lack of red gem stones. Within the chest was a three dimensional puzzle map - one of the kind he collected and adored, had been infatuated by since his earliest memory at the knee of the man who would be king.

These things were expensive, rare, and a smuggler would never give it as a gift.

She said the other men had helped her select their gifts.

Buggy gave the ensemble a cursory glance from his periphery, and he bit back the urge to curl his lip.

None of these people felt, sounded or smelled safe. Their Voices were discordant, anticipatory, and dripping with greed and... guilt? The mess was more than he felt equipped to handle, so he turned his attention back to the woman, doe like brown eyes framed by dark lashes as she happily chattered away to Crocodile, innocence exuding from her pores.

He didn't trust her.

Mihawk was as attuned to his surroundings as ever, gaze sharp and mouth flat, though his attention was more on the visible and energetic threats in their midsts. Buggy, secure in the swordsman's watch, let himself focus on the woman.

It was because he was focused so intently that he saw her rather impressive sleight of hand as she offered to pour Crocodile's drink. Into one glass fell a powder, pink tinted which rapidly vanished in the amber whiskey leaving naught a trace.

Buggy was moving before he could stop himself, a hand snatching the drink from his lietenamt with a faux casual grin. He tossed her a wink and took a sip, delighting as everything froze.

Mrs Stone blanched, eyes bulging. Hands flew to weapons, all of which stopped as Mihawk shifted, barely a movement, barely a breath, before all of the inconsequential blades, guns and otherwise fell to useless pieces at his feet.

Before Crocodile could even respond, the woman was rising, face angry, moving to slip the hidden daggers from her sleeves before being halted and strung up by shackles of sand.

"What was it," Buggy asked softly, "that you added to the drink, my dear lady? It was awfully sweet for my Croco-chan's tastes. More up my alley, I'd argue."

"It wasn't meant for you!"

"How mean~"

Crocodile tightened his hold with the sand, earning a grunt of pain from their assailant. "What was in it," he hissed with a glare as dark as death.

The woman gave a slow grin, chuckling softly. "Have you ever had Amorenatta root?"

The woman and her men are arrested, a notice sent to their contact regarding the situation in plain terms. Buggy, having had but a sip, was not in mortal danger, he assured his crew. Amorenatta was a highly potent aphrodisiac and intoxicant. Even concentrated into a powder as it had been, the amount he consumed wouldn't cause any fatal side effects. Once the substance kicked in, he'd likely just... be a little worked up, as he put it with a blush, possibly a bit more loose lipped than usual.

It was only the doctor's hesitant interjection that led to Buggy paling, realizing his error. It was an aphrodisiac in cisgender men. Buggy, with his non-miraculous and non-injectable transition methods, may have a biochemistry that could result in an adverse reaction. Add on to it the hormones the root can release being connected to the nervous system where his Devil Fruit lurked in his genome, it would be safest to have a partner or two with him during such a time frame to handle any... needs... that arise.

Mihawk and Crocodile both volunteer, to everyone's surprise.

They cite not caring one way or another what they'd need to do, offering what could almost count as remorse for having blown off Buggy's initial reservations about the whole thing. They did not listen. Buggy is now paying the price.

As it would turn out, the drug was not pure Amorenatta. It also included a synthetic fertility enhancement, and it is only from a deep discussion with Mrs Stone that the truth of the attack came to light. Her goal had been to drug Crocodile and bed him, having planned on imbibing the drug herself. The plan there had been essentially a baby trap wherein she thought carrying his child would make for a weakness to exploit further into the dealings, given his not-so-secret history of sparing children.

Had that not been viable, then claiming the conception to be less than consensual had also been an option which would have barred the Guild from making many other allies in the market she excelled in currently, leaving her and her own as their sole source, thus maximizing the trade deal payoff.

Buggy catching her had not been in the cards whatsoever.

As his luck would have it, Buggy was affected by the drug in a different way than anticipated. Instead of growing a bit dizzy, he instead began to spike a fever. His blood pressure rose. The dichotomy of the genetic information, reaction to hormones, and his own devil fruit attempting to chop-chop the chemical itself within lead to a reaction akin to an illness from bacteria or a virus.

Mihawk and Crocodile made good on their vows to assist, however, and the three men find themselves rather taken with the domesticity of it all.

Mihawk, never quite known for his tact, asked if Buggy had ever considered a family before being faced with this situation. Buggy, tired, feverish, comfortable in a way he rarely was, confesses that he had wanted it. He'd always wanted it. He'd also feared it with every fiber of his being. He'd love to have a family, a spouse and a child or two, but his heart and soul belonged to the very Sea which hated him. He would have loved to have a family, but he knew first hand the trials, tribulations and terrors of a pirate for a parent, had seen what horrors persist in the world and what atrocities occur at Sea.

"All that aside," Buggy admits softly, head resting against a pale shoulder, eyes lidded as he smiles wanely at the logia user across the table in the sitting room, "I'd never be a good parent. I know it. Everyone knows it. I'm... not okay." He sighs, eyes drifting shut. "I never have been..."

#buggy the clown #sir crocodie #dracule mihawk #cross guild #cross guild polycule #trans buggy #ficlets

[notbecauseofvictories]

Halloween Week of Horror (Games)

It’s that most horrible time of year, and I've decided to explore the spooky world of text-based games. My list of games is cribbed from this post and this post.

GAMEIFY HORROR // DAY 1

DAY 2: 13 laurel road, unbecoming, what girls do in the dark, the open house, return

13 laurel road 

an interactive fiction game about the relationships we have with places and reconciling with trauma. You play as a young man named Noah who has been tasked with picking up some things from his cousin’s old house.

This one was surprisingly affective, given that there is no objective horror—no jumpscares, no mysterious noises, no ghosts beyond the perfectly ordinary ones that plague all of us.

Still, the set up (a young man, tasked with grabbing some things from the old family house) and the conclusion (coming to terms with the intergenerational cycles we fall into, giving you the chance to break free from them) worked wonderfully for me. In particular, I liked the way the game conveyed Noah's internal conflict---the refrain of "I won't think about that," and the way that you as a player aren't quite clear who is still alive as you move through the abandoned family home.

...I am a little disappointed that there weren't ghosts though.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 1/10, mostly for ambient horror and decay

OVERALL GRADE: B-

unbecoming

a sonically-textured interactive horror fiction exploring cycles of trauma and unspeakable forces of nature in a mythic rural American landscape.

Well, damn. I think that’s the second time I’ve put that in my notes, but also—damn. Damn does this game deserve it. Despite the lack of images (just text, white and sharp except when bleeding into red) it felt extremely well-realized, lived in. Maybe it's just because I know these places, have been to these farms, have looked at Dust Bowl photographs of children on buckling front porches, but the scenery was its own character---which is amazing when there's no actual scenery.

Not to mention that the story gets into one of my soft places and digs---the fraught ritual and cycles of repeated harm; the kind of blurry boundaries that make such effective horror. Family as obligation and a horror story you can't always escape. Not to mention how the gameplay makes you complicit in continuing that horror...

SPOOKY LEVEL: 5/10, not necessarily overtly, but uh. There is a giant hungering pit, and corpses in beds.

OVERALL GRADE: A-

what girls do in the dark

This little game is based off one of the greatest fears they had as a teenage girl: showing up late to a stranger’s slumber party.

Of all the games on this list, this was the first one that—as soon as the credits rolled—I immediately wanted to play again. I wanted to see if I could get a different ending, if I could somehow "win." There’s just something about those haunting scraps of “maybe you could have saved yourself...” that tantalize you, and make you want to try for a happier ending.

....not to mention that I have a well-documented weakness for deals with the devil.

I'll also add that the almost MS DOS style prompts ("TAKE [ITEM]" "OPEN DOOR") were devastatingly effective; a way of narrowing your choices while also giving you the illusion of choice.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 3/10, given the blood and the creeping horror

OVERALL GRADE: A-

the open house

We at Northtree Real Estate (in partnership with Optix Dynamix Labs) are proud to present our new, state-of-the-art, open house simulator!  Come and take a quick tour of 15615 Hollow Oak Lane, a familiar and comfortable showcase home in one of our premier developments!

This particular game is just cool as hell. As someone who (like many millennials) has been addicted to Zillow and other house-hunting websites, this landed with immediate effect. What if scrolling through virtual walkthroughs on your local house hunting website opened up a portal to the unknown? What if it showed murders immediately after they were committed? What if, as you go further and further into this virtual house, you were going out---into something vast, unknown, and chilling?

Amazing, clever, wonderful.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 5/10, largely for unreality and a couple creepy images that still linger with me.

OVERALL GRADE: A

return

a text-based horror game about coming home

The more of these games I play, the more it becomes clear that what I like is horror that verges on the inexplicable—dream logic and images that refuse to resolve into reasonableness. I loved that here: the static, the mycelium, the pier with its strange dead-already fish, the self that guides you through the next cycle. What does it say about our horror stories if there is no going home? If it's just cycles of returning and rebirth and horror we can't escape?

(Sidenote, I am in love with Carver, and the little bit woven in about cybernetic/android assistive devices was tantalizing.)

Again, it's amazing how these text-based games manage to convey so much, so richly, with just words. Or maybe I just have an overactive imagination.

SPOOKY LEVEL: 7/10, just because the sense of unreality is so strong, I wouldn't recommend it for anyone who doesn't enjoy that

OVERALL GRADE: B

#gameify horror #the oldest and strongest emotion of mankind

[greenandhazy]

I just queued up a post about sustainable fabrics and started to write something in the tags before realizing that it was drifting away from the point

but PSA: with the caveat that the most sustainable item of clothing is the one that's already in your closet, I would suggest that if you are someone who struggles with temperature regulation, you should seriously consider adding more linen and wool to your wardrobe. determining the "true" environmental impact of various fibers is v complicated, but for a start they both use significantly less water than conventional cotton, and imo the improvement they've had on my quality of life is well worth the substitution.

linen and wool are by far the best fabrics for temperature regulation--the former is lighter and more breathable than cotton and will keep you cooler in the summer, the latter is breathable but heavier and more insulating and will keep you warmer in the winter, even if it gets wet. (there's actually a saying among people who hike/do winter sports that "cotton kills" because you are more prone to hypothermia in cotton undergarments than in wool.) do not even get me started on linen/wool vs polyester.

this is something that I think is especially important given higher cost of heating lately, higher temperatures due to climate change, and the number of people who have health conditions or medications that make them sensitive to heat. this isn't to say that your clothing/bedding choices will compensate for a livable environment, but as someone who used to wake up 2-3 times a week sweating in synthetic sheets for four months of the year, and shiver in an inadequately heated room for another three, these little swaps can seriously make extreme temperatures a little more bearable.

that being said, wool and linen do tend to be more expensive, so if you're looking to get the most bang for your buck, I would recommend starting with:

linen sheets, even just a fitted sheet (some companies do sell them solo). overheating while sleeping is literally the worst.

linen pants, especially if you work in a job that doesn't allow you to wear shorts. linen shirts are also nice, but even cotton/poly shirts tend to be thinner than pants and might already be short-sleeved/you can roll up the sleeves, so the impact of pants will be more immediate.

a chunky wool sweater. avoid cashmere, and merino unless it has cables--these are very soft, lovely wools, but they're generally pretty light and made more for their softness than their insulation properties. for maximum warmth, you don't want a thin "office sweater," you want a "my Irish gran knit this in her cottage on the windy coast" sweater.

wool socks. these are more likely to keep you dry and warm if you're walking through slush or rain, in addition to just general walking-around-the-house warmth. for these I would say the type of wool matters a little less, generally because you do want socks that are somewhat lightweight so you can wear them in shoes. and just FYI you're also more likely to see wool socks blended with silk, nylon, or spandex for strength and elasticity, so don't drive yourself up the wall trying to find the mythical 100% wool sock. even hobby knitters tend to blend wool with something because of the amount of friction that wears on socks.

again! the most sustainable type of clothing is what you already own. but some of these are the kinds of small swaps you can definitely make over time, and you might find them genuinely helpful.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Timeless Lullaby (Dad Squad)

(@smilesrobotlover @skyward-floored @telemna-hyelle @nancyheart11)

Despite the initial confusion and embarrassment at the start of their visit to this village, the trio of men had managed to obtain both valuable information and supplies. Abel had stocked up on weapons and food while Rusl had obtained information. Fierce had been wandering the village seemingly aimlessly, piquing the Ordonian's curiosity, but he didn't pester him over the matter. Every other time the deity emerged from an alley or shop a child would be following him, giggling and running around or asking questions.

After just two days, Abel had grown far too restless to remain, and Rusl had to agree with the man's anxieties - they couldn't afford to linger too long. Their boys were still missing.

As they exited the village, Rusl saw the Fierce Deity turning an item over in his hands. "Did you find something useful in the village?"

Fierce gazed at the item a moment longer. It was very small in his hands, oval shaped with what seemed to be some kind of mouth piece and holes carved into it. An instrument, then, Rusl surmised, though he wasn't familiar with it.

"An ocarina," Fierce explained. "My little hero has one. It is not this particular one - his is filled with magic. But it caught my eye nonetheless."

Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, the usually hardened knight softening his expression as he watched the deity walk ahead.

"Does he like to play it?" Abel asked.

"It has special enchantments to it," Fierce answered, his fingers brushing over the instrument. "There are certain songs he plays to accomplish tasks. But in his free time, he does like to play other tunes on it, though he is frightened of what might happen. I believe he often whistles instead if he is scared the instrument might do something."

Rusl furrowed his brow. "Why is he scared? What does his ocarina do with its magic?"

"He can manipulate things with it," the deity explained. "Matter, location, weather, time... they all bend to its notes. But only with certain songs. I think he is beginning to figure out it is an innocent instrument with regular tunes. I am glad for it. He likes to play."

This instrument certainly sounded powerful. Rusl marveled at the thought of it, but his attention was quickly diverted when a few bokoblins caught his eye.

A brief skirmish followed, with very little to show for it. There had barely been enough bokoblins for all the men to even fight. Fierce had eliminated three in one fell swoop, leaving just one straggler that Rusl picked off with his bow and arrow. Abel had huffed out a laugh, muttering something about wishing the deity had been around before, whatever before must have been. Rusl could only guess it was the war that had caused this mess.

As they set up camp, Abel made a quick meal for the group to eat, which they did in silence. Rusl stared up at the sky, lost in thought about his boy and wondering how he was doing. This wasn't... quite as terrifying as when the village children had all gone missing, but he still worried for Link. He didn't know what those red soldiers wanted, who they were, anything, really. Being trapped in a foreign Hyrule didn't make the matter much easier.

Still. At least he had companions.

The silence of the night was broken with gentle, mellow notes filling the air. Rusl turned to look beside him, where Fierce had started to play softly on the ocarina. He was surprised at how gently the mythical being played, what with his large stature and immense energy and power. The melody was simultaneously haunting and soothing, and somehow strangely familiar.

Rusl wasn't the most musically inclined, but he swore he'd heard this piece before. The tune played over and over in different gentle variations, embellishments highlighting certain parts before it slid back into the main melody. The deity didn't tire of playing, and Rusl didn't dare interrupt. The longer Fierce played, the more Rusl relaxed, a smile playing at his lips as he laid back against his travel pack. Between the crackling of the fire and the soothing melody, Rusl started to nod off before he had a chance to really ask anything, but in his mind he could hear the tune repeated in a different voice, breathy and quiet and deep, interrupted with little inhales in the nose, accompanied by the crickets of the forest at night.

Link. Link had hummed this tune before. He'd learned it on his adventure.

Rusl's smile lingered as he finally fell asleep, thinking of his boy.

Across the camp, Abel sat beneath a tree, a silent princess twirling aimlessly between his fingers. He stared off at nothing, the tune playing gently in his mind and heart, though he knew little of it. At first it had startled him and irked him - he hadn't wanted to attract nighttime beasts with noise. Nevertheless, given who was playing it, he wasn't likely to win the argument, nor did he really care to. If the deity wished to be reminded of his boy, he wasn't going to stop him. It wasn't as if any monster could be a threat to him.

The silent princess lost a petal as Abel rolled it roughly in his hand. His heart felt empty. He felt exhausted. The melody continued, and Abel sighed, leaning his head against the tree he sat under. Eventually, the silent princess stopped twirling aimlessly under anxious hands, glowing gently in the moonlight as Abel started to settle into an uneasy sleep.

The Song of Time continued to float in the air, heralding a bygone era, calling to heroes who were too far gone to hear. Eventually, the fierce deity stopped, glancing at his companions as they rested. Sighing, the deity rose to cover each man with a blanket, tucking a stray strand of Abel's hair behind his ear. Then the deity glanced up at the sky.

What a bizarre situation to be in, he thought to himself. He'd never been outside the mask for so long. He could hardly remember having time to spend with anyone. Were it not for the circumstances, he would be grateful for it. Instead, the ocarina felt cold in his hands, lifeless, like an empty reminder of who he should be with.

His hand brushed the scarf tied around his waist. At least one of his heroes was safe.

Slowly, the deity pulled the ocarina back to his lips and started to play once more.

#writing #Dad Squad #started listening to the song of time played on ocarina on spotify and this popped in my head #fierce is a dad through and through #he out dadded the other dads tonight #fierce dadity #abel #rusl #I know there's an actual lullaby that Fierce could've played but like #song of time is so haunting and serene #and I was listening to it #so there #Fierce made it a lullaby

[dagwolf]

From Reverberation Vinyl on Facebook:

I'm a "record store day indifferent" type of shop. I don't carry the sort of things that people line up for, and the things I do stock that are attached to rsd are all items you'd find here on the average Wednesday. I don't hold it against anyone, takes all kinds, etc. But I am asked frequently around this time of year why I don't really care for rsd, and while I certainly have stock answers on hand, they usually come off as annoyed or negative, rather than thoughtful and well reasoned. So, short of going door to door & handing out tri-fold pamphlets, here's Ralphie's theme...

Why RSD Is Bad For Records & Record Stores by John Anderson

The "Record Store", as positioned in our culture in 2024, is (or was) a reflection of the mythical independents of the '90s & '00s, places that thrived outside both the interest in, or support from, the record industry. Truly independent stores that were usually small, primarily used, at times meeting places for music people, social hubs for weirdos, discovery zones & more. The reality was far more nuaced, but growing up in the record stores of my youth, I eventually sorted out the differences between chain stores, used shops, big label music, used selling/buying, etc, and the sense of REAL that permeated the independent shops of the world. The person/people behind these places were often big, weird personalities, but they were also the driving force behind what lay on the shelves. New horror soundtrack imports from Italy? Brand new garage rock from PNW hotspots? Skranky dub compilations for under ten bucks? Bootlegs? YES. All things that were specific to the shops, sometimes exclusive, but always reflective of what & who the place WAS. Recreating that to the best of my honest ability has always been my goal here. If its a new record in the racks or on the wall, its likely here because a) I love it, b) I own one too, and c) I'd like to share it with you. Short version: this store is a deeply personal statement. That has always been my focus and always shall be. In the words of the great Andrew Weatherall, "Music's not for everyone".

That's the mystical/romantic part. I have practical reasons as well!

1) As stated above, record stores (vinyl) thrived & grew to what we know now with ZERO interest from the record industry, when it was at its absolute $height$. As "record store culture" became more popular & increasingly commodified, the industry used rsd as a trojan horse to seize the means & the narrative back from the very people who kept it going while they - the industry - were gouging people on CDs & fumbling a cogent approach to digital music.

2) rsd stock is expensive, for us & you. Usually 25% more than your standard releases. Why? Good question.

3) rsd stock is unreturnable for shops. As a store, what you order, you're stuck with. Huge stores don't seem to mind, as you'll see bin after bin of rsd leftovers going back 5+ years, more in some cases.

4) The Disappointment Factor. When "one band fans" & newer collectors have been conditioned to seek out "the one thing", there's inevitable disappointment when smaller stores get tiny allocations of records people seem willing to fight over. That disappointment usually ends up directed at the people/place, meaning yours truly, something I want no part of.

5) Manufactured Scarcity. Undershooting demand by a few thousand units as a marketing strategy sounds fun to someone... not sure who though. Driving a rabid wave of buyers (say 500,000) into a physical marketplace that's more likely to NOT have what they want (say 10,000 copies)? Nope. Which leads to...

6) Unrealistic Manufacturing Capabililty. With seemingly every popular (read: really common) record of the last 50 years being repressed in 18 colors to satiate insane demand (a particularly impatient, Amazon era, "want it NOW" demand), not to mention the same approach to new LPs by many (Billie Eilish called this out recently), the industry is basically pretending this is the early '80s when massive, industry-wide manufacturing infrastructure meant they could turn big orders around in days rather than months. Trouble is, this isn't the '80s. The big industry titans dumped their pressing facilities & hardware at the dawn of the '90s. Now, demand greatly exceeds manufacturing capabilities, and while there have been new pressing plants opening (and thriving) in recent times, these aren't owned & operated by Warner or Universal: these are the indie operations that kept vinyl alive in the '90s & '00s, and now the big label business they can't turn down means slower turnaround for all the labels & artists that aren't major/indie property. AKA all the artists who ordered records from them for the previous 20+ years. Which leads too...

7) Astronomical Pricing. Yes, rsd pricing is "a quarter above the vig". Cost of doing business in that world, I guess. If it sounds like the mafia, it is, because rsd is 100% "big record industry" controlled in 2024, regardless of early intent. Unsurprisingly, the cost of new records across the board has seen an insane surge, with little mind paid to the audience, whether that be boomer age dudes who can afford $80 Neil Young records & $900 box sets, or high school/college kids, who are expected to drop $40 for a new LP. Regardless of the public face they put on it, the industry still sees "this", meaning records, as a trend that will at least partially fade off. Hence their lack of interest in committing to better & more sustainable pressing & manufacturing. No plants or presses, but the money will be fine for now, thanks.

8) Flipper Culture. I say this knowing full well there's no way to put this element back in the box, but your ebay/discogs flippers are the boogeyman that its easiest to put a face to. Not much nuance necessary, they just want as many copies of of whatever "hot" rsd release is fetching the most $$ online. We've all had to hit the secondary market to find some "limited" record we missed. Being forced to do it on rsd because 2000 dirtdicks who stood in a line all night & bought up 2/3 of the existing copies of the record by your daughter's favorite artist? At 10x list price? Oh, okay.

9) The Generally Punishing Nature Of Having To Stand In Line For Something You May Not Actually Get. If there's a group of folks out there who love standing in lines, I mean no offense, but come on now. I'd guess that most bands/artists probably aren't aware of what goes on around rsd, or I'd like to think they'd decline involvement, because who wants to punish their fans like that?

I could go on & on but... The record scene has changed a lot since I opened up, particularly in the last 7-8 years. For the better? I kinda doubt it, but we shall see... I've been carping out these warnings since 2011, and there isn't much I can do about it, aside from running my little shop in the manner I see fit. I don't begrudge anyone what they're into, and while my place is as personal as it gets, I don't take these weird record store times personally. I hope anyone who reads this understands that like my store, it comes from a place of love, with all the passion & care that encompasses. In the end, this should be fun... I've had some incredible discoveries, comraderies & experiences in records stores, and that I wish for everyone.

(link)

#record store day

[waves-against-a-cliff]

New Skin - Moss x Witch (minorly)

Content warnings - My attempt at body horror, descriptions of murder, children eating, kidnapping, Moss is not a good person but a good baker at least.

A/N - inspired completely by and based off the works of @ghouljams

“Times are changing, Juniper.”

“I don’t see why I have to learn this.” Juniper huffed as they pushed their petals from their face. “I think I’m plenty alluring as is.”

“Humans are getting smarter. Using iron to weigh down their children.” It seems Juniper's friend, Crow, had struck a nerve. Juniper went rigid, the idea of their food choice becoming harder to get, it made them want to claw into whatever child they had hidden away. “So pay attention to what I’m showing you for free.”

Moss stares at themselves in the mirror, the memory turning hazy from centuries since passed. They wondered how Crow was these days. Moss bites their bottom lip, plump and soft pink. Perfect for kissing. They tilt their head at their reflection. Centuries later, too much time spent not learning how to use a human form had done this to them. Moss knew they only had themselves to blame for the sad state of their ability to hide their true form.

Moss still believed they were plenty pretty with their petals and green tinged skin with orange freckles. Alluring the way fae are meant to be, otherworldly. A mythical creature a child might follow into the forest if only to satiate their curiosity, unaware of Moss’s poison taps and long claws. Moss runs their fingers through the ginger hair of this form, the overalls are yet to be covered in flour but focusing had become more and more difficult as winter begins to melt away into spring.

Moss traces the veins along their neck, their unusually green eyes watching every movement they made. They extend their arm out and trace the skin there too. A soft pale but a poor imitation of human skin. Moss could never perfect the magic of illusion. They were a hunter, a hoarder of prey. They stalked their prey and offered sweet things in exchange for hooks that they would then use to drag a child kicking and screaming into the forest if they had to.

Moss could still vaguely taste the sweet blood of the last child. It sprayed on their skin and like melting candle wax, her fake skin sloughed off. Revealing the inhuman tint, her hair fell off like a sick wig and her green eyes had flared. The freedom of their true form is unparalleled. Moss licked their canines at the memory of sweet meat and freedom from this self opposed cage.

It was only a few weeks ago that they had finally gone to the Witch. To the Witch’s summer cottage. To the garden surrounded by iron fences and a magical barrier that would surely protect the Witch from any kind of threat. It was the kind of magic that made other fae grind their teeth together in both want and pain. The kind of magic another fae might’ve used a beacon for who to hunt next.

But that kind of fae was not Moss. Adults were less soft, harder to trick. Moss had learned their preference long ago during their early days as a fae. Adults didn’t satiate their cravings of sweets but they were a good way to let out some aggression. It wasn’t uncommon for Moss to leave a mutliated corpose in the woods, uneaten and left for the animals and bugs.

Moss had sat inside of Witch’s cottage, fed tea so sweet it helped the building craving within her stomach and made an exchange. Despite the itch that had dug into her skin, like the bite of winter had woven itself into the barrier as well. Like a predator marking its claim. Moss wondered if Witch even knew how valuable of an item she was giving to Moss. A charm, woven with magic that would help keep seers prying eyes off of them. Give their human form more stabilization. But it was fine if Witch didn’t know the true value or use of the charm, probably better she didn’t. She seemed like the type of lady to want children of her own one day.

Better if she didn’t know that Moss was the main threat to children in this area.

Moss clipped the charm necklace on and felt her form settle. Felt the magic blanket her like a warm hug. They let out a soft sigh and looked back at their reflection. Their ginger hair was a bit dulled, their green eyes just bright with life and not hunger, even their skin seemed to dim down. The beacon that screamed that Moss was fae tuned down.

The first thing Moss had noticed their first day with the charm on was the lack of eyes on them. Weak seers didn’t jump out of their skin at the sight of them, stronger seers avoided eye contact instead of trying to distance themselves. Moss was just another face in the crowd, not some kind of child eater. Even if that is what they were. Emily was a sweet girl. Five years old if she wasn’t lying and children never lie about being five. So excited to be that number of years and unaware they are talking to the fae that might keep them from reaching six.

Emily babbled on about the flower crown she was making, talking about all the pretty flowers starting to sprout from the ground. Moss handed a very pretty cornflower to Emily who oohed and awed over its blue hue. Moss salvated as that first hook sunk into Emily.

Moss shook their head sadly as they comforted the parents. The mother sobbed into her wifes arms, the wife’s lip trembled as she tried to keep herself together for her wife. Moss offered to make them some bread and desserts, just to help lessen the load on them. No need to return the favor. They thanked Moss profusely even as tears kept rolling down their cheeks. “Let me know if you want any help, it’d be the least I can do.”

The women nodded and walked out of the bakery with a handful of loaves and a few pies in boxes. Moss turned off the lights and climbed the stairs down to their basement where they pushed a cabinet from the wall. They smiled at Emily who munched on the cookies Moss had given her. “Are you ready to go?” Moss asked and Emily nodded, Moss took her small hand into theirs. “Alright, let's go see your brothers and sisters.” And they stepped into the mushroom circle.

#1fae1 #tf 1fae1 #fae oc

[alexhwriting]

Pilgrimage and the Lands of Lothric: The Medieval Narrative in Dark Souls III

Here is the essay that got me started on my route of video game studies and digital media. I was taking a class with a medievalist professor that was talking about the ways that medieval themes and thoughts are still prevalent in the world today. She is a huge soulsborne fan so when I pitched this idea she was super into it, with this essay going on to become my grad school application essay. I hope you enjoy it!

Pilgrimage and the Lands of Lothric: The Medieval Narrative in Dark Souls III

I. Introduction

Dark Souls III is, although frequently lauded, a very opaque narrative. Little of the narrative is told to the player at any point during the thirty to forty hours of grindingly difficult roleplaying game action and adventure. What little bits of story are present, however, are delivered from sought out sources, such as non-player characters (NPCs), items descriptions, and flavor text throughout the game world, as well as inferences from the dilapidated kingdom of Lothric that the player gets to explore on their quest to “link the fire” on behalf of one of the few more friendly characters that they come across during their time in the game. In this paper I am going to summarize the general overview of the story of Dark Souls III and show that it is a modern analogue to the pilgrimage practices of the Middle Ages. In doing so, this paper strives to shed some light into the abyss that is the in-game lore plotted so masterfully by FromSoftware, the studio behind the Souls series.

II. Background

Opening up with a cinematic, Dark Souls III lays out the four bosses that the player must fight, explaining that, “In venturing north, the pilgrims discover the truth of the old words. / ‘The fire fades, and the lords go without thrones,’” [1] as part of the sixteen lines that accompany the showcase of the world and bosses before the game actually starts (Dark Souls III). From here, the game does not volunteer much other information, aside from brief sections of dialogue when interacting with the NPCs that are necessary for game progression.

      As to set a baseline to draw from, then, here is a manual explanation of the main events of the game and its world: Dark Souls III cast the player as “the unkindled one,” an undead being who is awoken in response to the fading of the light of the world in order to restore, “link,” the flame and continue the current in-world epoch, the Age of Fire (Dark Souls III). Along the way, the player is tested in several environments that are central to the narrative, as FromSoftware relies heavily on the environment to form the majority of its storytelling, each of which is usually completed with the defeat of one of the games many bosses. Four of these such bosses, which the player must seek out, are called the Lords of Cinder, each of which has abandoned their duty to continue the light of the world, and therefore must be fought and their cinders brought back to rekindle the first flame. Once that is finished, the player is given a few choices based on their actions in the game in a kind of moral choice ultimately; do you link the fire, continuing the age limping along, extinguish the fire and let the next age of humanity begin, or do you usurp the fire and become a god yourself?

            The world of Lothric itself begins in a sort of high citadel, The High Wall of Lothric, before the player descends into the dilapidated lands of the Undead Settlement, Road of Sacrifices, and Farron Keep and its swamp, all of which have a sort of overgrown, crumbling aesthetic of a tightly packed and mountain-locked countryside. From there, however, the player wanders through the ruined underground of the Catacombs of Carthus, a winding tunnel that eventually leads to the societies of old and the mythic city of Irithyll of the Boreal Valley and Anor Londo, where the old gods once lived. Lastly, the player descends into the depths again in search of the Profaned Capital, before returning to Lothric Castle to face off against the rulers of the land themselves, the twin princes Lothric and Lorian. The entire movement of the game is based on looping back to places that are familiar and making shortcuts between places that are safe to get quickly through dangerous areas that would otherwise be tedious and difficult to pass through separately. This whole journey is punctuated by bonfires, checkpoints where the player gets the chance to rest and level up and do all the other things that are central to gameplay mechanics. One of the most vital being the recovery of what the game calls “Estus Flasks” but are essentially healing items that hopefully keep the player from getting killed and having to reset to the last bonfire they visited (Dark Souls III).

            More specifically, the world of Lothric is intentionally meant to be oppressive as the player makes their way through the course of the game. The landscape is made up of harsh cliffsides and thin pathways, ravines that lead down to bottomless pits, and overgrown roots that make almost every surface feel unstable. When there is architecture in the world, it takes on either a sort of ramshackle and dangerously leaning appearance in the case of the spaces like The Undead Settlement, where it is clear that the place may have once been a kind of pleasant village but was patched and repaired over and over again into barely standing structures. Otherwise, the architecture is grand, heavy, and old medieval styled. These are usually the places that have some additional historical importance to the game world, such as Lothric Castle, the home of the twin princes who rule the kingdom. Though even these structures are falling apart, tied to the themes of the game, and most of the locations that the player visits have long past their prime when they are visited. For example, the Cathedral of the Deep, an area once home to a legendary Lord of Cinder, is now nearly empty, with tattered cloth all over the floor and walls, as well as the central chambers all having been filled with a sort of black sludge (Dark Souls III). The pathways through these places are, in many cases, actual roads that have been left to the sands of time and have not been kept up, not dissimilar to the old Roman roads that were left behind after the collapse of the empire.

            On another note, though also necessary for the background of this paper, is the term “narrative” in reference to videogames has been a subject of some debate, due to the non-linear nature that many games take in their storytelling (Ryan-Thon, 173). Dark Souls III, however, sticks to a relatively linear structure in its plot and keeps the important information in sequence. Therefore, in this instance “narrative” will serve as a good term to examine the story being experienced by the player and make it easily relatable in the context of literary pilgrimage narratives. In his chapter on game abstraction in Storyworlds across Media: Toward a Media-Conscious Narratology, Jesper Juul also suggests an alternative phrase, “fictional world” (Ryan-Thon, 173), following in the footsteps of a similar phrase used by Jan-Noël, “Storyworld” (Thon 289). While both of these are good alternatives, they will be employed here more specifically to refer to the world of Lothric that Dark Souls III is set in, as the world space itself is a core part of what makes the game a game and allows it to communicate its message.

Finally, in terms of background, there is the more formal games language that is used to describe Dark Souls III on a kind of meta level. The game is considered to be a roleplaying game (RPG) due to its elements of levelling up and encouragement of the player to approach problems in-game with a variety of different strategies. The setting invokes the traditional hallmarks of the medieval fantasy genre as well, as the player encounters knights, dragons, giants, castles, kings, and princes. With this established, invoking the Middle Ages as pretext for the storyworld (Eco, 68), a baseline understanding of the game and its tone has been established.

III. Foreground

Religious pilgrimage is almost synonymous with the Middle Ages and was an important part of the travel culture at the time. Roads themselves were recognized as being extremely valuable and were supported often by those who could afford it, especially those main thoroughfares that would take merchants, pilgrims, and general travelers across medieval European landscapes (Allen, 27). Pilgrims in particular made a core part of the necessity of roads as the quest they undertook was both holy (Osterrieth, 146) and economically beneficial for pilgrimage sites (Osterrieth, 153-4; Salonia, 3). What makes a pilgrimage distinct from other travel through the medieval landscape, however, is that they often focused on the relics and holy places of Christianity (Salonia, 3). Matteo Salonia suggests, in his article, “[The] reverence and physical journeys towards relics and saints were less theologically controversial than reverence and pilgrimages towards holy sites because of the new place assigned to the human body within Christian cosmology,” a sentiment that is mirrored in the bodily nature of the travel that would take place to visit such a relic (Salonia, 5). This is tied into a sort of Medieval Christian interest in the body, specifically the body as a means to channel spiritual energy into miracles and shows of faith (Salonia, 5). This differed from the Platonic view that had dominated before the Christian tradition, which placed the body as adversarial to the mental and spiritual pursuits of an individual (Salonia, 6).

Anne Osterrieth, in her article on pilgrimage as a personal quest, comments on the body-centric nature of the pilgrim’s movement, saying, “The pilgrim also drew pride from his capacity to undertake his task. He was becoming a seasoned traveler and derived pleasure from this new competence” (Osterrieth, 152). In popular media, which depicts pilgrims in a much more dower light, this attribution and celebration of prowess seems almost antithetical. However, Osterrieth emphasizes the pilgrim’s journey as one of death and rebirth, from the person they were who needed divinity into the person who has come in contact with divinity and is ready to advise the next on their journey (Osterrieth, 152). This shows that the person on a pilgrimage was, of course, seeking out a relic or holy place to venerate and receive blessings from, but also that along the way there is an unintended but necessary physical growth as they become a competent traveler and learn to deal with the challenges of long road travel.

This travel was far from unguided otherwise, as people consulted other travelers, maps, or guides to get them to their shrines of destination (Allen, 28). In the minds of the pilgrims, explored by Valerie Allen, the road was not always present, “we might call this [instrumental] representation of the road as means to end the default understanding of roads, in which they function as connectors between settled communities” (Allen, 33). Allen is looking at the pilgrimage narrative in the Book of Margery Kempe, which describes the travels of 15th century titular businesswoman, Margery Kempe (Allen, 27). This narrative, however, is where Allan draws the almost complete disregard of the road from, as it seems that Kempe herself did not find that part of the experience worth keeping track of in the same detail as the rest of her visits and exploits (Allan, 29).

Ritual, here, becomes a big part of the discussion of pilgrimage, which is itself inseparable from conceptions of rituals. “Ritual as a type of functional or structural mechanism to reintegrate the thoughtaction dichotomy, which may appear in the guise of a distinction between belief and behavior or any number of other homologous pairs,” is a definition of ritual put forward by Catherine M. Bell, in her work, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice (20). She goes on to summarize that ritual is always tied to opposing forces in a culture or system of practice (Bell, 23). This provides a kind of structure that creates something of a cultural habit, something that fascinated scholar Pierre Bourdieu, is part of a kind of societal generative principal (Bourdieu, 78). Bourdieu takes this idea into a kind of forgetting of history and being left with only practice (Bourdieu, 79), which in some ways can be seen in some of the later ideas of pilgrimage to non-religious places or referring to the colonial settlers in America as “Pilgrims.” These tie into the discussion of pilgrimage as it establishes that pilgrimage as a ritual is always opposed to something else. In the case of historical pilgrimage this tension is between the safety of the village and staying in one place and the fulfillment of the journey at the end of a long and dangerous road.

IV. The Ground

Pilgrimage and Dark Souls III already share one thing in common, though debate has ensued about what role this takes in the narrative sphere (Bierger, 11), and that is the central necessity of space. It is space and travel that characterize a Pilgrim wandering medieval England, as well as the player character in Dark Souls III, embarking on their journey into the world of Lothric to link the fire. While the literal space is different, as there is the space that it takes to physically walk from place to place, there is a kind of abstracted sense of space that is present in Dark Souls III that is necessary for the nature of the story world (Ryan-Thon, 183). In this space between destination and starting point is where the pilgrim acquires their expertise and endures the hardships that will form them into the person worthy of accepting the blessings at the relic when they arrive (Osterrieth, 152). While in the game, the path works on a very similar level, having the player face challenges and gain experience to level-up their character so that they have the necessary competence when they come to face a boss like the first Lord of Cinder, the Abyss Watchers. Both the pilgrim and the player come across these various challenges, twists in the road, wild animals, other people threatening them, they also come across various moral encounters as well, such as to give aid or do favors for those they meet. In the reality of the past, this was much more literal, while in Lothric these moral actions take the form of side quests more often than not. In one example of a moral action that can be taken in the game early on in the Undead Settlement area, the player finds a woman, named Irina of Carim, trapped with a knight nearby. The player is told by the knight, “taken an interest in her, have you? Well, she's a lost cause. Couldn't even become a Fire Keeper. After I brought her all this way and got her all ready. She's beyond repair, I tell you" (Dark Souls III). To actually save her, if the player wants to, the process is pretty involved and includes gathering a whole other trail of items to get the door to Irina open. Alternatively, there is no real punishment for the player avoiding this action, much like in real life, and all further interactions and possible benefits of the NPCs are lost. 

The main idea linking these two actions is the concept of The Quest, which is incredibly broad. But more specifically, the quest for contact with divinity, during which the central actor develops their own abilities in order to be ready to receive the divinity when the time comes. While this is plainly evident in the nature of the pilgrimage, in Dark Souls III the same concept applies. This is due, in-part, to the transmedial principal of minimal departure that was developed by Marie-Laure Ryan and adapted by Thon. The principal is “at work during narrative meaning-making that allows the recipients to ‘project upon these worlds everything [they] know about reality, [making] only the adjustments dictated by the text’ (Possible Worlds 51). It is worth stressing, though, that recipients do not ‘fill in the gaps’ from the actual world itself but from their actual world knowledge” according to Thon as he cites the original principal by Marie-Laure Ryan (Thon, 292). This principal allows for the game world of Dark Souls use the quest form much more naturalistically, allowing the player to take on the grand quest of their own pilgrimage through the Lands of Lothric in a mentally analogous process.

There is a pilgrimage here is part of the very core of the gameplay of Dark Souls III, as well as the narrative proper. Throughout the game, the player is told that it is their job to gather the necessary relics in order to link the flame, a process that proves an arduous journey and a game experience that FromSoftware has come to be known for. On the level of environment alone, there is a similarity here to the kind of landscape that a pilgrim might move through in medieval Europe, with its crumbling, ancient, ruins and overgrown roads. The oppressive and dark game atmosphere with the bonfires as checkpoints give a sense that would be not too dissimilar to that of a real-world pilgrim, going on an arduous journey only to find rest at a campfire by the side of the road. It is significant as well, that, in the very last segment of the game, the place that the player finally arrives at is a religious site, the city of Irithyll, where the most prominent buildings are those of churches. In this game area the player visits three, one called The Church of Yorshka, one that is unnamed but is home to the boss Pontiff Sulyvahn, and finally the grand cathedral of Anor Londo, where the gods once made their homes and is now home to Aldritch, a kind of heretical saint (Dark Souls III). It is after this point that the player must return to the starting citadel of Lothric to continue their journey.

 It is also at this point of the game, as the player has made their way all around the kingdom of Lothric and even to places from the first couple of games in the Souls series, that this quest has been done before by others in the storyworld as well as by scores of other players before them. Combining this with the lack of direct story throughout the game, makes the player an agent in the meaning-making activity that the game has you go through, creating a kind of “intentionless action” (Bourdieu, 79). That is to say, with how little the game tells the player before their pilgrimage begins, the player is left to follow the game path and explore the story for themselves without fully clear intentions for what it is the in-game character is actually participating in. This is, in action, the kind of ritual repetition that leads to the unconscious repetition of the history of the players actions in the Bourdieusian sense (Bourdieu, 78).

Where the pilgrimage metaphor really comes full circle, however, is in the difficulty. It’s ironic to compare a medieval pilgrimage’s difficulty a videogame, but in its own space the Souls series stand as monoliths of difficulty. This difficulty, which is formed from a balance of timing-based combat and harsh punishments for failure, creates a kind of demand for focus. Whether the player wants to or not, the nature of the game demands that they pay full attention or risk losing hard-earned progress. This leads to, a kind of phenomenon where the player becomes more focused on the skill-based challenges and tunes out (or abstracts) for themselves the more complex elements of the game during the challenge (Ryan-Thon, 185-6). In a way not dissimilar from what Allen noticed with the Pilgrimage of Margery Kempe, where the repetitive action of travel was not as memorable as the destinations, the challenges and skill building (leveling up) being secondary to the large experiences of destinations (boss fights). Both walking for days and grinding through difficult game areas build patience in those who partake in each activity as well, becoming something of a meditative activity (Unknown, “Dark Souls is More than Just a Game”).

The moral component, while hard to measure, is an example of some micro-moral game morality throughout most of the game, much like in real life (Ryan et al, 57). However, much like the pilgrim’s ultimate quest being tied to the much more cosmically important goal of the afterlife of their soul, so is the ultimate morality of the quest in Dark Souls III, a large macro-moral choice to determine the fate of the storyworld (Ryan et al. 57). However, this is the area where Dark Souls III, much like other remakes and updated retellings of the stories of the past, adds in its own twist. The three endings of the game, usurping, letting die, or carrying on the flame, constitute a moral ending that does not present itself in the traditional stories of pilgrimage. Instead, the game asks its player at the very end of the game what they believe the best course of action is for the storyworld, one that has been limping along since the very first game in the series. This macro-moral decision is almost jarringly major in comparison to what minor interactions that the player has had up until that point and brings a sense of ultimate closure no matter what ending is taken. The game of course has additional content and gameplay to enjoy after the credits roll, but the narrative itself concludes finally in one of three ways. Each option, however, recolors the actions that the player took to get to that point, either as a would be king of humanity, a savior sacrificing themselves to keep the world going for another cycle, or as a savior in another sense, finally letting the limp and broken world fade into darkness.

V. Conclusion

From the content on the story itself, a lone character looking to keep the fire of the world burning and trekking across the land of Lothric, to the player’s experience of the game play, Dark Souls III sets itself in the same style of narrative as that of the experience of pilgrims. Both game and historic action culminating in a building of skills and triumph over adversity that many others may not be willing to undertake. Even with little motivation in a bleak and harsh world that appears stacked against almost every move that the player and their character work towards. While Dark Souls III may only be channeling this kind of mentality for the benefit of the player’s experience, it casts its spell regardless and has left a lasting impression on both individuals as well as the games industry as a whole (resulting in the Soulsborne game genre). However, more than just affecting the entertainment industry as a whole, Dark Souls III gives a mediated experience of one of the time-honored traditions that was once a massive undertaking across Christendom, calling up the past as it seeks to tell its own story about a medieval-like fantasy world, and also the unidyllic descent into ruin that every age face, both in the world of the game and outside of it. From a narratological perspective, it gives an interesting challenge to where the border between game world and narrative actually divides two different experiences. While from a medieval perspective, it gives a unique look into the kind of crumbling and uncertain side of what history used to be through player experience. And all of that is without delving into the rich optional or expanded content that was added after the original release of the game.

Bibliography

Allen, Valerie. “As the Crow Flies: Roads and Pilgrimage.” Essays in Medieval Studies 25 (2008): 27–37.

Bell, Catherine M. Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice. Oxford University Press, 2009.

Bieger, Laura. “Some Thoughts on the Spatial Forms and Practices of Storytelling.” De Gruyter      64 (2016): 11-26.

Bourdieu, Pierre. Outline of a Theory of Practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997.

Eco, Umberto. "Dreaming of the Middle Ages." Faith in Fakes: Travels in Hyperreality. Transl. William Weaver. 1973. London. (1998) 61-72.

Miyazaki, Hidetaka. Dark Souls 3. Bandai Namco (2016).

Osterrieth, Anne. “Medieval Pilgrimage: Society and Individual Quest.” Social Compass 36    (1989): 145-157.

Ryan, Malcolm et al, “Measuring Morality in Videogames Research.” Ethics and Information     Technology 22 (2020): 55-68.

Ryan, Marie-Laure, and Thon, Jan-Noël, eds. Storyworlds across Media: Toward a Media-Conscious Narratology. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2014.

Salonia, Matteo. “The Body in Medieval Spirituality: A Rationale for Pilgrimage and the       Veneration of Relics.” Interdisciplinary Journal of Research on Religion 14 (2018): 1-10.

Thon, Jan-Noël, “Transmedial Narratology Revisited: On the Intersubjective Construction of           Storyworlds and the Problem of Representational Correspondence in Films, Comics, and          Video Games” Narrative 25 (2017): 286-320. Unknown, “Dark Souls is More than Just a Game” GameFAQs (August 30th, 2014)     https://gamefaqs.gamespot.com/boards/606312-dark-souls/69969309

[1] Quotes from in-game dialogue are sourced from https://darksouls3.wiki.fextralife.com, a website that has transcribed the text of Dark Souls III’s dialogue and other in-game text in its entirety.

#Medieval #medievalism #pilgrimage #essay #my essays #class essay #dark souls #dark souls 3 #soulsborne #undergrad research #narratology #world building #video games #medieval literature

[zsakuva]

Hellooooo I have a question that’ll probably build on my never ending sakuverse and death note fixation but,

1) if Isaac was a detective and he was known to the public, or even if he was one of the best detectives in the world, what kind of cases would he take on?

2) if Andrew was ever introduced into using a mystical or Shinigami type item (etc, the Death Note, Shinigami Eyes) do you think he would try to become light yagami/kira or do you think he would go a different route with the Death Note?

3) and finally, I can’t tell (if they were in the Death Note universe) If Luca would be misa or if darling would be misa LOL

These are kinda weird questions but I have been sketching and thinking of these ideas non stop sooo I just wanna test the waters 🫢

I think he would take the harder cases with little to no explanation. If they involved some kind of mythics, he'd work on them.

I have no idea. Characters can surprise me, and for Andrew, I don't know what route he would take.

Neither are like Misa xD

#zsakuva #sakuverse

[chronicbeans]

Welcome Home Fae AU Poppy, Howdy, Barnaby, and Frank

Okay so like Poppy might not TECHNICALLY be a Fae, but I still think it fits. Let me know if you do, too. Barnaby may also be a bit strange, but I can also see him in the original universe being the type of guy to tell a bad joke and accidentally hurt someone's feelings, so I thought this idea would fit well due to the play on words. Kind of like a fae trick, in a way.

Poppy - She's a magpie that worked for the fae folk. After a few years, she was enchanted by one of the neighbors as a reward for her hard work. Nowadays, she lives in the barn and tends to the mythical creatures that reside there, such as unicorns and pegasi. The barn looks small from the outside, but once you enter it, it is huge.

Frank - He's a grumpy little gnome. He is extremely intelligent about all things to do with plants and animals, especially butterflies. When he goes up to the human realm, it is usually to study the types of butterflies there and to heal any injured animals or plants. To hide from the humans, he tends to stick to the tree roots, traveling through them. Due to his connections with the roots of plants, especially trees, he has a slight suspicion about Wally and Home, but isn't sure what it is. Unknown to him, Wally's Unseelie Court is held beneath Home, within the roots of his tree in the Fairy Realm.

Howdy - He's a leprechaun. His little market is now mainly a shoe cobbler's, where he cobbles shoes and sometimes sells random trinkets he finds while investigating the human world.. Unlike most leprechauns, he doesn't care much for gold. He mostly keeps his gold just for the tradition of it, but is willing to give it to those who need it. He keeps his gold in the back of his store, alongside valuable human items he collects and is unwilling to sell.

Barnaby - He's a cù-sìth. While he WOULD go out and bring humans to the afterlife... He is a bit too lazy to do so. Plus, he much prefers jokes to deadly howls. He met Wally while wandering through the forest in the human world, where he was invited to join Wally's neighborhood. Having nowhere else to go and not wanting to unintentionally cause any harm to humans, he gratefully accepted his offer. He had a few experiences where he would tell a joke to a human he liked and didn't want to harm, only to "howl" with "barking" laughter, bringing them to the afterlife without meaning to.

#welcome home au #welcome home #welcome home arg #Fae au #Barnaby Beagle #frank frankly #poppy partridge #howdy pillar