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yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

ETERNAL - v

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; smoking, mature conversations

➳ word count ; 3k

➳ note ; Thank you for your patience!

masterlist

Fear is a fist that clutches your heart, reminding you of its presence each time it tightens its grip. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but you can feel the strength in its hold; the raging tendons wrapped around your tender organ that strain with each heartbeat. A singular emotion controlling your very pulse.

Cigarette smoke billows into the indigo hour of the night, and you find yourself unable to pry the fingers away.

The air on the balcony is cold, but it envelops you in a comforting embrace; it’s a soft coolness, as opposed to the harsh, biting climate of the desert that you’ve become accustomed to. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, but you don’t feel the need to scratch at yourself, to tear the skin from your flesh. It makes you feel alive, even if the definition of that word has changed for you.

Evidence of your newfound immortality, if that’s what you can call it, dangles between your fingers, ashes falling to the ground several storeys below with each gentle tap. It tastes terrible⎯⎯a bitter flavour of death in every pull⎯⎯but it serves its purpose for now. It keeps you grounded, gives you something to focus on other than the slowly growing anxiety that still holds strong in your chest.

Behind you, the balcony door slides open, startling the silent air with its soft drag.

“You’re up late,” Namjoon says. He speaks soft, low, as if hesitant to disturb you. “Or early, I guess. Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

You breathe out a puff of smoke, watching as it dissipates into the darkness. “I’m not.” He steps into your periphery, leaning on the metal railing beside you. “I just needed...something. Found them hidden away in the bookshelf.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Figures. We’re usually a non-smoking household, but sometimes the boys get sneaky. Pass me one?”

You hand him the box. Only two cigarettes left. He brings one to dangle between his lips and, without asking, you hand him a lighter. It takes him three tries, and then he’s sighing smoke into the air as well.

“Thought you were a non-smoking household.”

“We are. Stinks up the place, and it tastes disgusting. But. When in Rome.”

“You calling me Rome?”

He chuckles, but doesn’t answer. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, despite knowing that he isn’t looking at you. “Too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

He blends in with the shadows, slightly, though the peaks of his cheekbones catch the dull light that glows through the mist of pollution. “I get that. Would you rather me talk?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Not really.”

So he stays. Until the embers begin to burn your fingertips; until you’re snuffing your cigarette on the metal rail. You don’t think you’ll smoke again. You suppose it doesn’t matter, though. There’s forever ahead of you to change your mind.

Sunlight is just beginning to illuminate the buildings around you when Namjoon speaks up again. He stubbed his own cigarette before it was even halfway done.

“I’m sure you’re curious,” he says. “About us, about the situation, about everything. And we’ll tell you as much as we can, but...There are some things the boys won’t feel comfortable telling you about just yet. We’ve lived long lives. We’ve done good things and bad things; experienced things we’re proud of and things that haunt us. We may not die, but we’re still human. I hope that you don’t mind being patient with us.”

Your heart aches a little at the melancholy in his tone, as if you wouldn’t give the world for these seven men after knowing them just a day. It feels as if your soul has missed them for a lifetime.

“Namjoon.” He turns to face you, now, and a halo of soft light glows around his face. “I don’t know what you’ve all been through, and frankly, it’s none of my business. If you want to tell me something, I know that you’ll do it in your own time. I’ve got the rest of my life to get to know you all, okay? There’s no rush.”

His smile starts as a twitch, a quirked corner of his lips, but quickly grows wide. Relieved.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he says. He offers no elaboration, no further words, but you think you know what he means. Because you’re glad it’s him, too. You’re glad it’s them.

With breakfast comes clarity. As you sit at the large dining table, bowls of rice, soup, and several plates of banchan steaming into the morning air, you find yourself feeling calmer than you have since your death. It’s as though the raging tides of emotions⎯⎯uncertainty, confusion, downright fear⎯⎯have finally quelled into a tranquil body of water. There is sure to be a ripple sooner or later, but for now, it is completely still.

Yoongi, the cook of this morning’s feast, takes the first bite, and the rest of you follow. There is so much that you want to say, so many questions that you want to speak into existence, but the bitter taste of apprehension bleeds through even the delicious taste of your meal. You feel like you might choke on it⎯⎯the taste and your words both⎯⎯but your throat closes before you can even swallow.

Ah. There is the awaited ripple.

Perhaps it is the hours of silent companionship, or simply his centuries of wisdom, but Namjoon seems to sense your internal struggle. “If there’s anything you want to ask us, Y/N, go ahead. We’ll answer to the best of our abilities.”

Your throat eases and your tastebuds return to normal. “Well…” Where do you begin? What questions do you ask potentially ancient beings? “I guess let’s start with what this,” you wave a finger around the table, at the seven other sets of eyes who watch you patiently, “is. The situation.”

Namjoon nods slowly. It seems he’ll be taking charge for this conversation, much to the visible relief of the others. “Even we aren’t completely certain of what exactly this is,” he says. “From what we’ve learned, our death granted us immortality, or something to that degree. We cannot die, nor can we get majorly injured. Any wounds heal quickly, and any illnesses metabolise out of our system before they can affect us.”

You nod. All of this you were already aware of.

“As for this,” he continues. He looks around the group, fighting back a fond smile. “We’re all connected. When someone else becomes like us, we all see visions of each other to help us find them. The same happened with you. You saw visions of us when you slept, and we saw visions of you. That’s how we could find you. The dreams gave us enough information to figure out who you were, and then it was a matter of locating you.”

“Which wasn’t easy, by the way,” Jimin adds, though there is no annoyance. “Your files were so deeply buried that we thought they might not exist. And don’t even get me started on accessing the satellite.”

“You hacked a satellite?” You can’t hide the shock in your tone, and you don’t miss the glint of mischief in Jimin’s eyes.

“That’s not important,” Namjoon says, taking control of the conversation once again. “What’s important is this: the eight of us are intrinsically connected now. We might not get the visions anymore, but we are still linked. The easiest way to describe it is that we’re soulmates, though that might not even be true. We were destined to find each other, to be immortal together. Whether it’s for some higher purpose, or just a random curse, we don’t know. It’s better, I think, if we don’t try and find out that reason.”

Now that confuses you. “Why? Isn’t it human nature to be curious?”

Hoseok scoffs. “I don’t think we fall under the definition of ‘human’ anymore.”

You’ll have to file that away for later.

Namjoon ignores Hoseok, and looks straight at you. “If we become too enveloped in trying to figure out the big ‘why’, we’ll get lost in ourselves. We’ll lose our own sense of purpose. If we were chosen, for whatever reason, then we have to trust that our instincts will guide us to do what is needed.”

“Okay.” You suppose he’s right. “Then, could you tell me how old you all are?”

“We don’t do ages,” Taehyung says. He sounds almost amused. “We know the age we were when we died, but we don’t keep track of how long we’ve lived after that. It’s a rule.”

“Then how about...generally? Who was the first? How did you all die?”

All eyes turn to Namjoon. Honestly, you can’t say you’re surprised.

“I was the first,” he says. A faraway look takes over his eyes, as if lost in the past. Seokjin puts a grounding hand on his shoulder. “I couldn’t figure out my actual age if I tried, but it was...a long time ago. I was the chief of my village. Killed for power. The story isn’t too interesting.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and then Yoongi clears his throat. “I was the second. A slave to some tyrant who thought he was all-powerful. Killed in front of the other slaves to put them in line.” He shrugs, but doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Hoseok is quick to speak next, his words are short and curt. “I was third. Court execution.” He seems reluctant, as if guarding his past behind the tightly-locked gates of his crossed arms, but you mean what you said to Namjoon earlier; you will wait for them. For however long it takes.

Next is Seokjin, and you have a feeling that his theatrics are for Hoseok’s benefit. “I was the lucky fourth, and a king, at that! Though I was only in the position for a few hours, and all public records of it were thrown into the river with my body. Which is a shame, really, because my portraits deserved to be in museums for all to marvel over.”

“Um.” Jeongguk seems nervous, and you see him hide his shaking hands beneath the table. “I was next. I died of...natural causes.”

“And we came as a set,” Taehyung smiles, arm slung over Jimin’s shoulders. “Died at the very same moment, and woke up the same way! We were best friends, right, Jiminie? On the opposite sides of a war, but I loved him with my whole heart.”

Jimin nods, a wistful smile pulling at his cheeks. “I remember thinking that I was so lucky, to die in his arms. To never have to live a single moment without him. And then we found the others, and I thought that I must’ve been in heaven to be so fortunate.”

“We’re all together,” Namjoon elaborates, though it’s unnecessary. A blind man could see the way they feel about each other. “It may be because of circumstance, though I like to think that it’s because we were all meant to be. Like it’s a gift from the universe, allowing soulmates born in different centuries to find each other.”

“And now you,” Jeongguk whispers. His eyes glimmer, hopeful, and so young despite the obvious years he has over you. You wonder why he doesn’t seem as emotionally aged as the others; what could cause him to cling to his youth the way he does. It doesn’t matter, though. If it means he keeps his heart, it will never matter.

“We don’t expect anything from you,” Seokjin says. “Not romantically or even platonically. You are still your own person, and if you don’t want to be a part of this, in any degree, we won’t force it.”

You are thankful for that. It takes away a pressure that you didn’t even know you had until now. The thought that this is a choice⎯⎯a decision that is completely yours to make⎯⎯relieves you to no end. And yet...

“I don’t think that’s a decision I can make right now.” You mindlessly arrange the chopsticks on your now empty plate as you try to summon the right words to explain yourself. “There’s so much that I need to figure out, and so many things that I feel I have to do. I don’t even know if I’ve properly processed the situation yet, or if I’m simply in shock.”

“Is there any way we can help you?” Yoongi, as always, seems so genuine. So heartfelt.

“You already have. So much more than you’d believe.” And it’s true. Independence is your life. You may have been in a team in your old life, a leader of a small group for whom you were responsible, but you were always brought up, always trained, to survive alone. To find comfort in an existence of solitude. Because that’s what the military is; it is removing yourself from others, from the world. You were in a team, sure, but you were all alike in your aloneness. Alone together.

Now, you have this group of men who, without knowing you, have plucked you from your misery and now offer you everything. Offer themselves, their companionship, their help. You are not the one responsible, the one with everything on the line. They have taken that from you with gentle hands, and you give it away gladly. There is not much else that you could ask of them.

Except. Well, maybe there is.

“But…” You trail off, and their eyes just scream patience. You don’t know how they do it, how they’ve grown to be so effortlessly composed and serene, because right now your heart is beating in urgency. It batters against your chest, yelling at you to just ask them, now, but your words falter in sudden uncertainty. They have already given you so much, offered even more; can you truly ask for the help that you now realise you may need?

You look into their eyes again, and know that the answer is yes.

“This mission,” you continue, sitting up straighter. If you speak with confidence, perhaps you’ll start to feel it. “As far as I know, it was never completed. When our team went in, it was under the belief that we’d be able to rescue all of the children safely and relatively unseen. Someone on the inside tipped them off, but they had to have had a reason. They wouldn’t have betrayed us like that unless something was wrong.”

“You speak like you know exactly who it was,” Hoseok says. It isn’t a question, and you see it in his expression that he isn’t necessarily looking for an answer.

You won’t give him one. Not yet. Not until you’ve figured out for yourself why this person would’ve left you for dead. “That isn’t important right now,” you say in lieu of a confirmation. “What matters is that those children are still out there somewhere, and there’s a leak in the operation.” Releasing a deep sigh, you slump down a bit. “I’m going back to the desert, back to the base, and I’m going to save those children. If you would like to help me...that would be really nice.”

“Of course we’ll help,” Jeongguk says, without hesitation. There’s a resoluteness in the set of his jaw that you haven’t seen in him before. “Anything you need. We mean it.”

“We should talk about this plan of yours first, though,” Namjoon says. “As far as the military is concerned, you’re dead. You died with your team. If you go back to your base of operations, that’s just going to open up a whole lot of complications for both sides. They might think that you were the traitor, being the only survivor. We’ll need to operate with a certain level of stealth.”

You were worried about that. Your dog-tags are with the rest of your team’s, your body supposedly burned along with theirs. You won’t be able to reprise the role you previously played in this, and you won’t have the military support that you once had. If you do this, it will be in the shadows, hiding behind corners and turning away from cameras. You are a ghost now. You’ll have to act like one.

“Okay,” you say. “I understand; we need to stay hidden. But there is one person that I need to see face-to-face. I can promise that they won’t do anything to endanger our identities.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Jimin says. “Trust is one thing when you’re alive, but if they’ve been mourning your death, you can’t know for sure how they’ll react.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you affirm. “I trust this person, and I’m going to need you all to trust me.”

Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation. “It isn’t that we don’t trust you,” he says, “but we can’t fully trust the situation. We don’t know this person, whoever they are, or how they’ll use this information against you. Against us.”

“I get it, I do.” You can’t help but sigh. “But this is something that I need to do, and something that I will do regardless of whether I have your permission. I won’t let my decision affect any of you, but if you decide against helping me because of this, I’ll understand.”

Yoongi leans forward. “We’re going to help you.” His tone is final. “And you’re right, this is your decision to make. We just want to make sure that you completely understand what you’re potentially getting yourself into.”

“You are all a lot older than me,” you say, “and obviously much wiser. But I’m an adult too, and I’m mature enough to know that my actions may have consequences. I’m no stranger to making tough decisions, or to taking responsibility. I may not be a Captain by rank anymore, but that doesn’t change who I am.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says. He doesn’t argue, nor does he apologise, but he doesn’t need to. There is a mutual understanding in the way you look at each other, and nothing more needs to be said. “So, what’s the plan?”

You take in a deep breath, and prepare your mind to return to the place you’ve grown to loathe.

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smutty-ki113r · 3 years

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The curse of an author

By: me. obviously. You say this is yours and you die

This is the first non-fanfic thing I post here, but it’s just my prose LOL! Read and enjoy, maybe get sad.

—

An author is always meant to be alone, to continuously long and reach for that which isn’t there. To bring into existence a soul of ink that weaves between pages and flies gracefully through sentences. Creating the most beautiful masterpieces not bound by ideas of rationality or human criticisms, but confined in a weak prison of paper. Cruel is the curse of such a character, swiftly mentioned and usually forgotten.

Will they forget me too? The one who lives in a momentary loss of self to develop such pieces of art. Each stroke of a pen a parallel to that which I have thought, are they not parts of me then? I take it with me when I press my wrist upon the page, forced to carry the remimance of ink wherever I go.

My hands always heavy, dripping with idea so when I hover the words will flow. A stream of rapid glistening pure water, stained with the ink of the page. Tainted so universally with sin and written plot of death as it carries into the polluted ocean.

Pages should not be light, with so much darkness drawn on a blank of white they should be heavy. Bearing the weight of the ocean, the profundity of their meaning sunk beneath layers of dark blue and black. Pages have no right being so light, it is unfair that they may fly away so easily; slipping like air through my fingers, so weightless the breeze sweeps them away.

Authors can never be truly happy, restricted to a simulation of fantasy that will never stop pouring. The curse and the miracle, the reason for such a life, and yet responsible for every death. Giving freely all the joy in the world with the power to make and tinker, but never to live.

Falling in love with the works sculpted by calloused hands, with the smell of fresh line and the texture of such a grand work of art. Heart gripped tightly by the beings written into existance, torn apart by their words and actions. Forced to see and create, but never to touch.

Maybe all authors have this void, weakly covered by a spread of words. It is a misery to be an author, so empty we may never love. Without the infinite void one cannot describe the feeling of longing. It may be spectacular, to a character that can be filled with the weight of emotion in ink, the story that passes in the whisk of a page; but for us to continue, we must always have a void.

It may be human selfishness, the insatiable desire to always crave more. No person could ever fill that feeling, so we search for it in words and fictional love. Eating as if I was starved, no delicacy sugary enough to appeal to my sweet tooth. Perhaps I am just attracted to the melancholy, that way I can always feel even if it is despair, and I can always have more to write about. Words never leave, so maybe I’m not letting myself be a character for the sake of not getting abandoned.

I refuse to give myself away, I save myself for my pages. For the fear that nothing will ever compare to that which lives subconsciously in my mind, that no romance could match that of which I long for. That of which I write.

For my true love will always be the blank of a page, my tears the ink that feed and gracefully transform into words that the people consume. To keep writing, I must keep crying, sobbing over that which will never exist other than on page. Thin and frail as it may be, it holds the worth of life inside it. With all the beautiful people and beings living between the lines, dancing and jumping between paragraphs. Unaware of the heavy droplets of pain caused at their expense. One must sacrifice their own happiness to pass it along to others, to watch them fall in love with someone you clutch in a crumpled page.

To see the ones I love unaware and oblivious to the one who creates them, terrified that it is impossible to not live in either worlds. Do I lose myself to my mind, romantizing the thoughts that only bring me agony and never be able to feel them? Or should I settle for that which will never be enough, only digging further into the pit I once tried to fill.

People say it’s better to have loved and lost. An author can never truly love, yet they always lose. I want to experience something as grand as the blinding lights I describe in my pages, the clenching of a heart when I finally fall in an obsessive deadly love. I might be my greatest muse, so every other person just happens to bore me. A couple droplets of reality won’t suffice, too little too much when I wish I would feel the flooding of an ocean infused with all the colors and emotion of a book. I want to feel love so hopeless my breathing catches and I can no longer exhale. If that’s what would bring upon my downfall so be it, at least I would die complete.

If the lines of my letters melt and form into one string will it be long enough to reach me? Will the rope coated in ink be strong enough to pull me out of that trench, or am I just to weak to hold on?

I am doomed with the curse of creation, to live and die incomplete. I don’t get to be the protagonist, or become the villain, and I never get the romantic interest. It means I must love like a character, but people will still love like people. Hopeless romantics will always be just that, hopeless.

Authors are forced with the burden of all the other characters, but trapped and unable to claw out of the pit dug with a pencil. Only an artist may see the profundity of it, everyone else will only a pen impaled in sand. So shallow and never large enough to cause sorrow. They never stick around to watch the tide come in. Nobody but words will ever satisfy, or fill that void which we can never fill. So we keep on writing.

If the pen is stronger than the sword, imagine how much it hurts to be wounded with it instead.

The turmoil in each heartbeat that clutches, pressing until it diminishes as nothing. Living a lie and writing the truth that will never come to light. It’s so dark here, the white page drawn too far in dark ink. The worst thing is, I would choose it every time.

#🔴#writing tips #writing #author #creative #creative writing #prose #writers of the world #writers of tumblr #writers of the future #writerscommunity #writersociety #non-binary writer

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lemonpepperhawks · 4 years

Text

Castaways

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: After a freak storm, you find yourself shipwrecked on a deserted island with Pro Hero, Keigo Takami. While you work hard to get rescued, you realize too late that all may not be as it seems.

Themes/Warnings: Smut; Yandere!Hawks; Noncon; Bit of a slow burn; This is my first time writing smut so I can’t guarantee it will be good, but I like to think I can at least tell a good story lol

It was a beautiful day to be on the water. The weather report said there would be rain, but the only clouds you could see were far off on the horizon. You stretched out on the bow of the boat, letting the warm sun soak into your pores.

You closed your eyes, reflecting for a moment. At first you had thought a private boat ride was a bit... much, for a first date. But being here in the moment, you couldn’t have had a care in the world if you’d tried. You felt utterly at ease, with the caress of the sun above and the gentle rock of the waves below.

“Order up,” came a voice beside you.

You opened your eyes to see your date, Keigo, standing above you with a drink in each hand. One large wing stretched out behind him, blocking the sun so you didn’t have to squint. He passed you a glass and took a seat on the bow beside you. Lounging side by side, you both sipped your drinks and looked out over the ocean.

“You know,” you began, “I thought you were a little crazy when you asked me out here. On a boat, in the middle of nowhere.” You chuckled. “But I’m really glad I came.”

“Bet you’re also glad I’m not secretly an axe murderer,” Keigo joked, tossing back the rest of his drink. “Refill?”

You looked down at your own almost-empty drink and shook your head. You were feeling unusually drowsy from the combination of alcohol and warm sunshine, and what you honestly wanted was a nice nap.

Somehow, Keigo seemed to pick up on this and scooted closer to you, twisting his finger through a strand of your hair.

“You look so peaceful,” He mused. “You can go to sleep if you want.” “Noooo,” you protested weakly, a small smile on your lips. “I don’t want to fall asleep on you during our first date. I really am having a good time.”

Keigo let out a small chuckle. “Don’t worry, you falling asleep on me would fulfill... several fantasies. And don’t worry, I’ll protect ya from any sharks.”

With this, he swept you into his arms and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. Normally, this would be far from anything you’d do on a first date - but your head felt so heavy, and the combination of rocking waves and the soft, soothing rhythm of his heartbeat had you falling asleep in seconds, smile still spread across your lips.

☙

You awoke suddenly. You had no idea how much time had passed, but you were immediately aware that several things had changed. First, you were no longer out on the bow of the boat. Instead, you lay inside the boat’s cabin with a towel wrapped around your shoulders. Secondly, you noticed that your hair was damp and dripping onto the planks below you. And finally you found the reason for all this: there was a storm raging outside.

“Oh!” shouted Keigo, noticing you wake. “I’m sorry, I had to move us inside. This storm sprung up so suddenly; there wasn’t even a cloud and then-”

“Keigo?” you muttered. Your body felt heavy and groggy as you came out of your sleep. You still weren’t alert enough to comprehend what was happening.

“Don’t worry,” assured Keigo. He turned around from his place at the ship’s wheel to face you with a smile, the same easygoing one he always seemed to have. “Lucky for you, I am a master of not only land and air, but also sea. We’re perfectly-”

A loud thud shook the boat as something hit the left window, hard.

“-safe.”

That noise had finished waking you up, and now you were on your feet, stumbling as the boat rocked violently. You made your way over to Keigo at the helm, tripping over your own two feet like a drunk, and gripped onto one of his arms for support. Looking out the windshield, you could see the full force of the squall. Wind slammed the rain back and forth like a whip, severely limiting visibility. You looked up at Keigo, who was focused straight ahead, his eyes seeming to try to pierce through the storm.

“Look, there!” he exclaimed. “There’s an island ahead and to the right.”

You squinted, but couldn’t see anything yourself.

“Should I steer us over?”

“I think so,” you agreed. The boat seemed sturdy, but it was small. Just a simple vessel meant for trips of no more than a day or two of light sailing. You didn’t like the thought of being out on the open water during a heavy storm like this.

Without another word, Keigo steered the boat in the direction of the island. The motor sputtered, but stayed running. Slowly, you became able to see the outlines of cliffs and trees through the downpour. There didn’t seem to be any dock, so you guessed this was going to be a beach landing and hoped Keigo knew what he was doing.

Suddenly, a huge shudder went through the boat, knocking you off your feet. Without taking his eyes off the storm, Keigo reached out and caught you with one of his strong wings.

“Hold on,” he commanded steadily, tucking you closer to him.

With terror, you realized that your feet were getting wet. Water was starting to seep into the cabin. You looked back to see a large hole in the boat’s hull, and were about to tell Keigo when another spasm rocked the boat. This time even Keigo lost his footing for a moment.

“Rocks,” he explained quickly. “We’re hitting the rocks.”

His voice was calm, but looking up you could see a hint of panic in his eyes. The wind was whipping furiously, and it felt like the boat might capsize at any moment. The shore was tantalizingly close, but you felt in danger of being swept away before you could reach its safety.

Keigo took his eyes away from the storm for a second, to look at you reassuringly. He gave you a smile and opened his mouth to say something, almost shouting against the sound of the wind.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be fi-”

And then, all at once, there was a crash, a jolt, and you felt yourself and Keigo being thrown through the windshield and into darkness.

☙

You found yourself waking up again, this time on the soft sand of a beach. The sky was dark, but clear - thank goodness. Looking to your left, you saw a small campfire, and beyond it, Keigo.

“Good evening, sleepyhead,” he said lightly. “Had me worried for a bit.”

You looked down at yourself, making sure you were all in one piece. Amazingly, there was not a scratch on you. Your muscles were a bit sore, but that was it. Nothing hurt, nothing bled.

Looking back at Keigo, you noticed that the same could not be said about him. He was covered in bruises on his arms and legs, and he had a cut running across one of his cheeks that was still freely bleeding.

He must have noticed your look of surprise, because he said, “Don’t worry, I was just about to clean myself up.” He patted a first aid kit at his feet. “Just wanted to make sure we had some warmth first. It’s getting to be night.”

He looked up and out over the sea, and you followed his gaze to marvel at the stars. You had never seen so many. Being far away from any light pollution, the sky looked like a swirling, winding map of light. And there were so many colors in the sky; it was unbelievable. Casting your gaze downward, you landed on the washed-up wreckage of the ship. It was a miracle that it looked to be mostly in one piece.

“Keigo, what happened?”

“Well,” he said, rummaging through the first aid kit. “I’m sure you noticed the storm.”

Even in a situation like this, he was lighthearted and joking. Part of you found it a little appalling, but part of you wished you could be more like him - more able to quell the rising panic in your chest.

“It really did come out of nowhere,” he continued. “Never seen anything like it. And it was gone just as soon as it came.”

It was both alarming and astonishing that such a short storm could cause so much destruction. You stared numbly into the campfire as he went on.

“Luckily you’re safe, and that’s what matters.”

You looked up, and Keigo was staring back at you intently. You could tell he meant it. Even though his own body was battered, it was more important to him that you were safe. You supposed that was part of what being a Pro Hero was all about, but it still sent a shiver down your spine to think that he cared for you that deeply, even if only in a professional capacity. He returned his attention to his injuries, dabbing something on his scraped arms. You moved over to help.

“Thanks,” he laughed. “I’ve had worse, but it never hurts to have a pretty girl taking care of ya.”

He winked. Okay, maybe the care and concern extended a little beyond professionalism.

“Anyway, I took stock of the boat while you were knocked out,” he resumed. “And we have enough supplies to last a few weeks. Which is good, since it looks like we may not be going anywhere soon.”

“Wait, a few weeks?” you interrupted. “Can’t you just, like, fly us out of here?”

“Well, about that...” Keigo mumbled as he turned his back to you.

Where once there had been two brilliant red wings, now there were little more than stubs with feathers protruding from his back.

“It was a pretty rough landing,” he explained. “A lot of my feathers were torn off and swept away while we were in the water. And on top of that, most got mangled anyway when we were thrown out the window. Honestly, I probably couldn’t even get myself off the ground right now.”

At this point, Keigo looked to you and noticed that you were on the verge of tears.

“Hey, don’t worry though.” He took your hand and clasped his fingers around it tightly. “I promise, I’ll take care of you here. You’ll always be safe with me.” You looked up into his soft, golden eyes. His smile beamed back at you as he opened his mouth to add:

“And hey, what a first date this has turned out to be!”

☙

It undoubtedly was turning out to be quite the “first date.” It only took a few days until you had somewhat settled into a routine. There was a lot of free time, but it allowed you and Keigo to get to know each other and work on projects to make your lives easier on the island.

Keigo had insisted on making identical shelters for the two of you, side-by-side.

“So I can keep a better eye on you,” he explained cheerfully.

At first he had wanted the two of you to share a single lean-to and bed of leaves, but you insisted that you were more comfortable being at least a little ways apart, and eventually he relented.

“I get it,” he teased, “not ‘that kind of girl.’ But you know I just want to look out for you, chickadee.”

What exactly there was to look out for, you weren’t sure. You had both circled the island several times - it wasn’t that large, and could be walked in a few hours - and the place was completely deserted. Your only fellow inhabitants were a large population of wild chickens, much to Keigo’s delight. Every morning before you woke, he would wander off into one of the more forested areas. And by the time you were awake, he would be wandering back with fresh meat. You didn’t particularly like thinking about where it came from, but you were grateful for the food.

And chickens weren’t all the island had to offer. There were also delicious fruits and wild carrots, which you had stumbled on while clearing some weeds from around your campsite. There was even a spring of fresh water only a ten minute walk from the beach. It was almost the perfect island to be stranded on. And all of this, along with the nonperishable food from the boat, ensured that you were both well fed and hydrated.

Once, you had asked Keigo about the food. Why there was so much on board for just a day trip. He shrugged.

“Better to be prepared and not need it than to need it and not be prepared.”

☙

While there were certainly worse people to be stranded with than your handsome date, you were still looking forward to being rescued. The whole situation was overwhelming, and, although Keigo was doing a great job at playing survivalist and keeping you warm and fed, it made you uncomfortable to be in such a committed situation with someone you had only been on one date with.

Granted, the one date had now turned into a two-week-long stay on a deserted island, but nonetheless you were hoping to get back to civilization so that the two of you could pursue a more normal, less stressful and intense relationship.

Keigo himself seemed unaffected by stress as far as you could see. The first morning on the island, you had asked him how long it would take for his wings to grow back.

“Last time I got this beat up?” he considered. “It took a few months.”

That was not the answer you had been hoping to hear, but it did inspire you to branch out and think of other creative ways to speed up your rescue.

The first thought was obviously your cell phone. However, one look at the glitching screen told you that your phone had been destroyed by the impromptu swim during your arrival. Keigo’s was the same way.

You then turned your attention to making a good old fashioned “SOS” sign out of rocks, which Keigo helped with. You didn’t have much hope for it - you had seen no planes or other boats since being marooned, and you didn’t even have an idea of where the island was in relation to any populated areas.

“Won’t people start looking for you?” you asked Keigo hopefully as you both worked on the sign.

“Eventually,” Keigo agreed. “But honestly, my friends are used to me disappearing on missions without notice. It could be awhile before they realize something is up.”

You, unfortunately, were the same way. A loner. No close friends who would be suspicious of you dropping off the face of the Earth for a few weeks. Of course your presence would be missed at work, but of course you hadn’t told anyone at the office that you would be on a boat,in the middle of nowhere, with the No. 2 Pro Hero for fear of the gossip that would spread. They wouldn’t even know where to start looking for you.

The two of you really might as well have fallen off the face of the Earth.

A few days after the completion of your SOS sign, you had an epiphany. The body of the ship was still on the beach, and ships had radios. Even small ones like this. The ship itself might be beyond repair, but the radio could still be functional. You sifted through the rubble to get to the cabin, which was surprisingly intact.

Keigo wandered up behind you as you went over to the radio. It was rare for you two not to be in each others’ line of sight these days.

“Whatcha doin’?” he asked.

“I just remembered, we can use the radio to get out of here!” you responded excitedly.

Keigo said nothing. You flicked on the radio and were delighted to see the small green light on its casing come to life. You held the receiver up to your ear, and were greeted by silence. You flipped to another channel. Silence. And another. More silence. Your heart sinking, you went through the channels one by one, and were rewarded with nothing.

Keigo came up to put an arm around your waist. “No luck?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t understand,” you sobbed. “How can this be? The light is on; it should be working. There’s not even static!”

“Let’s not wear out the battery,” Keigo suggested, reaching past you to flick the radio off.

The green light, and your hopes of rescue, blinked out.

“Maybe I could fix it,” you mused, brightening a little.

“Maybe,” Keigo agreed, giving you a squeeze. “I think I have some tools in here somewhere.”

☙

The days drew on, and you began to feel stagnated. You hadn’t made any progress toward being rescued. Despite several weeks passing, Keigo’s wings did not look any fuller. The bruises and scar across his face had healed nicely, but his wings remained bare. You had no idea how their growth worked, but you had been hoping that by now he might be able to fly himself - even if it meant leaving you on the island alone, he could at least scout for a rescue ship during the day, or perhaps even fly back to civilization and tell them where to find you.

Keigo, however, had grown increasingly reluctant to leave your side. You supposed the isolation was getting to him and making him clingy. You were his only company after all. And besides, it was kind of cute, having an otherwise confident and laid-back man follow you around like a puppy dog. You could tell he was infatuated with you, and you couldn’t deny that you had been developing stronger feelings for him as well. It was hard not to when he spent most of the day in just his cargo shorts, sweat glistening on his muscled back.

Still, you insisted on keeping your separate sleeping arrangements. Keigo pouted about it, but seemed to understand that you weren’t ready for that yet.

Aside from your daily chores of sleeping and eating, you spent most of your time cleaning up around the campsite, playing games to pass the time - you were both pros at Rock Checkers by this point - and just talking to each other. You enjoyed hearing about all of Keigo’s exploits as a hero, and he seemed just as interested in the details of your average civilian life. You had spent so much time together at this point; it was impossible not to grow close, and maybe even a little dependent. You couldn’t blame Keigo - you liked having him around too.

Occasionally, Keigo would disappear into the dense forest during the afternoons, and you would be left with free time to work on tinkering with the radio. On one such occasion, before leaving, he gave you a playful warning.

“You stay right there while I’m gone, chickadee. You never know what big scary monster you might run into in these woods.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just you in those woods, Keigo,” you returned, laughing.

Keigo just smirked and disappeared into the trees.

☙

Later that same afternoon, you sat hunched over the radio. Not only did Keigo have a toolbox stowed in the ship’s cabin, but the radio operation manual as well. These resources had proved to be very helpful in taking the radio apart, but not too helpful in actually getting it to work. You were beginning to grow frustrated when a voice behind you startled you.

“Hey!” called Keigo. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You turned to see his messy mop of blond hair poking through the doorway behind you.

“Come here,” he said excitedly. “I have something to show you!”

“Hang on just a minute, Keigo,” you responded. “I think I’m close to a breakthrough here. The manual says there should be a green wire right here-” you pointed to a terminal node on the radio “-but I can’t see one. It must have been knocked loose. If I can just find that, we should be able to-”

“Aw, come onnnnnn” whined Keigo. “It’s getting dark out, and you’ve been working too hard. This can wait until tomorrow. I have something I really want to show youuuu.”

You sighed. He could be immature at times, but his childlike excitement was also something that drew you. You couldn’t resist the excited light in his eyes.

“Okay,” you relented, putting your tools and loose parts away. “If you’re so eager, I guess we’d better get going.”

Practically skipping, Keigo dragged you into the woods. You had not explored much of this part of the island, seeing as it was in the opposite direction from the fresh water source. You hadn’t really had the interest or need to.

“Close your eyes,” Keigo commanded giddily.

You must have been getting close to whatever the surprise was. After a few minutes of guiding you through the trees, Keigo put his hands on your shoulders to stop you. He put something rough into your hands.

“This is a rope ladder. Climb up and I’ll let you know when you’re getting close to the top.”

You smiled a little to yourself as you started up.

“And don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you slip,” he added.

At the top, Keigo made you keep your eyes closed until he could scramble up to join you. You had expected to be in a tree, but beneath your feet it felt like solid ground. You guessed that this, whatever this was, was what Keigo had been working on during the times he disappeared into the woods.

“Okay,” said Keigo, a little out of breath as he came up behind you. “Go ahead and open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes and gasped as Keigo wrapped his arms around you. You were in the trees, their leaves surrounding you on all sides. Actually, you realized, you were between several trees, standing on a firm platform of vines and leaves suspended within their branches. The trunk of one rose up through the center of the floor like a giant column. Peering beyond it, you had a magnificent view of the ocean and sky, where the sunset was just disappearing, giving way to night.

“You like it, baby?” Keigo whispered in your ear. “I built this just for us.”

“It’s - wow it’s - definitely impressive,” you stuttered.

You had the sudden and overwhelming feeling that you were perched in a nest. A nest belonging to a very large, very strong bird.

Keigo nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I know you’ve been feeling shy, chickadee, so I wanted to make our first time extra special.”

“You wha-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Keigo spun you around and planted a kiss on your lips, silencing them. One hand was in your hair and the other around your waist, pressing you fully against him. His mouth moved with desperation, trying to force yours to open further.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” Keigo panted, lowering you both to the floor. “And I know you have too. I see the way you look at me, baby.”

Keigo’s own eyes blazed with hunger, his smile beaming above you. In the dying light, his skin seemed to glow, taking on an unearthly sheen. You were speechless, and unsure of what to say even if you could find your voice.

Keigo started to lift your tattered shirt, and that snapped you back to reality.

“Please, wait,” you begged, grabbing at his hands.

“You don’t need to be shy anymore,” Keigo insisted, pushing away your hands. He reached beneath your shirt to squeeze one of your breasts. “I love you and I’m going to take care of you. Always. Please, please just let me make you feel good!”

“Keigo, STOP!” you demanded.

He stopped, and pulled his hands away from you slightly.

“Keigo, I- you’ve been so nice to me,” you started. “But I’m sorry, I’m just not ready for this. This is all so intense and I- I just want to go home so we can have a normal relationship instead of being stuck on a fucking deserted island!”

Keigo backed off from you, looking hurt and dejected. You were almost in tears, and your voice hitched as you spoke.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated. “I think… maybe it would be best if you slept here tonight and I went back to the campsite.”

Keigo made no response. Unsure of yourself, you stood up and made your way over to the rope ladder. His silence persisted as you lowered yourself down and started back in the direction of the campsite.

☙

Eventually, you found your way back to camp. It was fully dark by the time you reached the side-by-side lean-tos, and you flopped down in one of them, eyes blurred from crying.

You didn’t know what had happened back there. Keigo had been nothing but sweet and generous throughout all of this. Even his treehouse, while a bit presumptuous and misguided, was a sweet testament to his feelings for you. You just weren’t prepared for how fast things were moving.

Maybe you had overreacted. It was too dark at this point to try and find your way back to Keigo, but in the morning you would find him and explain things. That you had feelings for him, but wanted to focus on getting out of here before pursuing anything more.

You leaned back and closed your eyes. You had half expected Keigo to follow you, but it seemed he hadn’t and was going to spend the night apart as you requested. Uneasily, you drifted to sleep.

☙

You were prodded awake in the middle of the night by a stabbing sensation in your shoulder. Groggily, you propped yourself up and felt behind you for whatever loose twig was the culprit. As you did, you realized with some amusement that you had fallen asleep on Keigo’s bed. He always took the left lean-to and you took the right. It had become a sort of unspoken rule, like a couple who each has “their side” of the bed.

You felt a pang of regret thinking this. If only Keigo hadn’t come on so strong. The truth was that you did want what he wanted. You wanted to be with him. But the stress of your situation and the intensity with which he tried to seduce you had been too much. You hoped you could work things out in the morning.

“Such an idiot,” you muttered. “Hope I didn’t ruin our chances for good.”

Finally, your fingers located the thing that had been poking you. It was oddly smooth, and, as you saw lifting it out of the pile of bedding, not a twig at all.

You held it up to the moonlight in disbelief: a little green wire.

Your stomach dropped. Swiftly and silently, you stalked toward the wrecked ship, needing to be sure. By the light of the moon, you quietly opened the casing of the radio, found the node with the missing connection, and slipped the green wire in. It reached perfectly to the node on the other side.

You tried not to let the panic set in. But something was very wrong. You felt the need to get out of there, away from the confined space of the ship.

Tumbling into open air, you began to pace on the wet sand, away from the boat and the campsite. Your thoughts were a whirlwind. Why would Keigo keep that wire from you? Why would he have it in the first place? The answer was obvious, but you didn’t want to believe it. You had been walking aimlessly for at least ten minutes, frightened and confused.

Suddenly, your foot hit something sharp in the sand.

☙

You fell to your hands and knees on the beach, and immediately scrambled around to see what had pricked you. There was a sharp point sticking out from the packed sand, and you dug around to reveal the object.

It was a feather.

Brilliantly red even in the glow of night, and far too big to belong to any normal bird. Tears welled up in your eyes. You continued to dig and uncovered another, then another. Soon you had unearthed a pit filled with the things.

“Enjoying your night without me, chickadee?”

One of the feathers zipped past you, toward the sound of the voice.

Trembling, you turned to face him as plumes of feathers swirled around you. One by one, they found their way to Keigo, and his wings began to reconstruct themselves in front of your eyes. Keigo’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he looked down on you.

“Glad I don’t have to keep secrets anymore,” he said flatly. “I was really beginning to miss having these.”

His wings were stretched out to their full length, making his presence impossible to ignore and extremely intimidating. He relaxed them slightly and sighed.

“Keigo, you- you knew this whole time,” you spat. “The radio, the feathers, the food - this whole island!”

The man in front of you said nothing.

“Why?” you asked weakly. “Why would you do this?”

“What? Is it so bad to want some time with you?” Keigo shot back suddenly. “I told you, you had nothing to worry about. I love you. I can take care of you here.”

With this, he flew toward you at frightening speed. Before you had time to attempt an escape, he was on top of you. Pressing you down into the wet sand with the full weight of his body.

“Why can’t you just be appreciative? I did all this for you. Just to be with you!”

“You could have killed me!” you screamed into his face. “You weren’t keeping me safe! You could have killed me!”

At your words, Keigo’s expression darkened drastically. He was frowning at you, and you had never seen him like that before. No, not just frowning, but scowling.

Your shirt was torn off before you could even register what was happening.

“You said it yourself,” remarked Keigo, towering above you as he kept you pinned with his legs. A smile was creeping back on his lips. “I’ve been so nice to you. But I think I’ve been too nice. I think it’s time for me to take what I want.”

Keigo grabbed at the rest of your clothes and dragged them off of you, leaving you exposed beneath him. Then he undid his own pants and let himself spring free.

Slowly, all while looking down at his captive, Keigo used a hand to pump his throbbing cock. Reaching, he took one of your hands and wrapped it around his length, holding it there as he leaned down to bring his face right against yours.

“This is exactly what you want, you little tease,” he whispered harshly. With his other hand, he plunged two fingers inside you, feeling as your walls became slick and clenched around him. “I know you do.”

Smiling wide, Keigo straightened up. With his hands, he pushed your arms to either side of your head and pressed them against the sand. With his tongue, he trailed up and along your body from hip to breast, making you squirm. He was marking you as his, showing that he owned and could do whatever he wanted with you.

“Keigo, stop!” you cried once again, trying to look anywhere but up at him.

“No,” he growled. “This time, I won’t.”

He slammed his cock straight into your core, making you cry out in shock and pain.

“Quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us!” Keigo taunted.

He thrust into you again, this time only eliciting a whimper. Keigo’s own unrestrained grunts and moans mixed with the sound of the waves against the beach as he continued at his frantic pace. After a few minutes, he regained his composure and looked down, where you were trying to shrink into the sand beneath him.

“Don’t worry, baby,” Keigo crooned. “You know I really do love you, and I promised I’d make you feel good, too.”

Using a wing to continue holding your arm in place, Keigo brought one of his hands up to his mouth and gave two fingers a scandalous lick. He never stopped looking down at you as he did so, an amused little look flashing across his face as you shivered at the sight. He brought the hand down between your legs, and began to rub slow circles around your clit, his saliva mixing with the wetness that already coated you. Involuntarily, you let out a moan.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he coaxed. He began to pump his cock in and out of you again, slowly this time. “Show me how much you want this.”

Not letting up, Keigo leaned down to use his mouth on you as well, biting and licking at your collar bones. He picked up his pace steadily. Your hands remained pinned, and all you could do was writhe under the onslaught of his touch.

His fingers were rough, and they grazed your clit relentlessly, sending shocks up your sides. You could feel a coil winding deep in your stomach, and despite yourself, you were desperate for a release. Keigo could feel you tightening around him as he neared his own climax.

Forgetting the restraints, Keigo shot up and pulled you with him, continuing to pound into you while on his knees. With your hips raised in the air, Keigo kept the pressure of his fingers on your most sensitive spot, sending you past the point of no return.

As he felt your walls clenching, he growled into the night:

“Tell me who makes you feel this fucking good!”

“K-Keigo!” you screamed, your body convulsing as you reached your climax.

“That’s right,” he grunted, slamming you both down into the sand again. “And it’s because you’re mine. All. Mine.”

At these words, you felt his cum gushing into you, making you flush from head to toe. He held his arms around you tightly as he rode out his own high, moaning in a gravelly, guttural voice.

The night was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of heavy breaths and crashing waves to echo off the beach as Keigo remained poised above you.

Finally, as his panting slowed, Keigo spoke.

“We should probably get comfortable, chickadee. It might be a long while before they find us.”

#hawks smut #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #bnha x reader #smut #keigo takami x reader #yandere keigo takami #bnha hawks #bnha smut

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kaypeace21 · 4 years

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DID theory part 3: St novels/comics/spotify list analyses

*read part 2 of DID theory-first! You’ll be lost otherwise, seriously XD. First, I’ll say -I find the ST comics/ books as canon as the st movie inspirations . I don’t consider the books/comics ‘literal canon’ (cause they contradict the show ( like Max and billy meeting a year before s2 in runaway max - but meeting as little kids in s3, or El’s age being wrong in suspicious minds, in the d&D comic Will’s friends instead of him /Jonathan building castle byers, etc) .

So I think we shouldn’t take it literally - but more like the st movie lists - filled with foreshadowing/symbolism and other eastereggs (That the Duffers may have told them to add). So here’s some more (possible) alter / DID hints...

‘Suspicious minds’ novel

- Brenner equates k*lling rabbits to h*rting kids. And he’ll hurt (kid) Kali (the bunny in the analogy) if Terry tries running away from him . I wonder if Lonnie used a similar threat against jonathan? Jon could be giving only a partial truth to why he cried for a week (about the bunny story)?

-Kali “hops” like a bunny then talks about tigers obsessively (linking her to rabbits/tigers similar to the other alters/Will/Lonnie). Terry also imagines tigers and kali says to Alice they can all be tigers together.

- one of the only male psychic experiments (who can see the future) is gay

- Terry is into lord of the rings, like Will. Has her and her boyfriend dress as sam & frodo (m/m ship). Terry calls her and her friends “the fellowship”.

-when Terry/Alice were injected with d**gs -they hallucinated rainbows.yikes.

- Alice (like Lonnie) is a car mechanic. She can see the future like Will the wise and says “monsters of course my mind has them as long as they stayed in there, everything would be alright? Wouldn’t it?” (in her visions she saw the demogorgan).

(completed) graphic ST novels (by Jody Hozer) so far (+ other st comics).

*Jody Hozer writes all the graphic novels (every novel is 4 chapters each) - the will byers comic, number 6 comic , into the fire comic, and at the moment she’s writing the d&d series and the summer camp series (which isn’t done yet). Then there’s the occasional 1 chapter st comics not written by her.

- Number 6 has (the ability to foresee the future like Will the wise/Alice) and has an ab*sive dad.

When having a nightmare of the demogorgan ...she says as she wakes up “screw you dad” (another hint the demogrgan -aka in d&d means ‘deep father’ ...is Lonnie).

- when number 6 and others run they say they’re’ “rabbiting”(which yes technically makes sense but I found such an uncommon phrase odd.)

- The (summer camp and d&d graphic novels aren’t completed yet) but they establish d&d creatures are based off real life people the boys don’t like in real life. Or that d&d is used as an outlet to explain true events from their pasts -but they just give the true stories a d&d fantasy slant.

- Which brings me to the halloween oneshot(not by Hozer),taking place before s1. Will tells a scary story told to him by Jonathan, and originally told to him by Lonnie. Says the boys have to keep it a secret cause it was something he was never supposed to tell to anyone. Mike says he has to finish the story he started. It’s about a “ch*lld-eater” monster first attacking a boy near the quarry (like where Will was found) and attacking kids in a library (where Will was also found in s1).When the child sees the sheriff she bangs on the library door begging for help-he ignores her , walks away, and tells the other cops to never speak of what they saw as she screams for help. Because the previous sheriff was in kahoots with the monster. It def had some ... uh questionable imagery too 0_0

The vine in the mouth is also like the one in Will’s mouth (when Joyce found him in the library).And of course Dustin asks whether or not something like that could be covered up.

- In the “bully comic” (about troy) also not by Jody. We focus on Troy and his ab*sive dad (who encourages him to fight/ditch his best friend). The dad has a drinking problem (gets fired), calls Troy a “mess” , pushes him, and constantly encourages Troy to be vi*lent/macho. He pretty much tries sabotaging the relationship Troy has with his friend (which I could see Lonnie doing in the future with byler).The dad/troy is framed similarly to when Billy gives Max a ride home- after both ab*sers give bad advice saying not to hang out with their friend (after witnessing them fight in the school parking lot). Dad also laughs about almost k*lling a squirrel (a trait we see troy mimic)- and we see El feel guilty about k*lling a squirrel in s2. At the end of the comic- Troy (like Will) after making up with his bff james- moves leaving his best friend behind.

- (into the fire) Twins: (one was normal with no powers living in the real world and the twin with fire powers is trapped in a dark sunless “cold” world styled like a psych facility/medieval fantasy) . pics in link.She hated her reflection cause it reminded her of being betrayed by her normal non powered twin who left her behind in the ‘cold’ place. She’d call herself a ‘hunter’ who would defend herself and attack others to never be hurt again. Her powers being unleashed were described like opening “a door.” And she loves her twin deep down and just wants friends . And fire twin goes to the “other side” to reunite with her reflection and find happiness in the real world. *also there’s sunflower/bunny symbols which she lights on fire-which can relate back to Will/Terry/Lonnie etc. The twins = Will & Will the wise (mf)

Mirrors also connect to Will and Will the wise via the canon spotify playlists too.

Will playlist (song: mirror in the bathroom)-Mirror in the bathroom Please talk free.The door is locked -Just you and me.Mirror in the bathroom recompense for all my crimes of self defense.Cures you whisper make no sense!Drift gently into Mental illness.

Demogorgan playlist ( from perspective of Will the wise aka the mf) (song: are you dead yet? )-”polluted soul through a mirror I behold.Throw a punch, shards bleed on the floor. tearing me apart. but I don't care anymore.Should I regret or ask myself are you dead yet?Wake up, don't cry. Regenerate to deny the truth. The fiction you live in blindfolds your eyes. Disclosure, self loathing, this time you've gone too far.Or could it be, my nemesis, that you are me?

(*st ‘into the fire’ comic. the fire powered twin’s thoughts echo the song)

*I think this foreshadows the later plot points of mf (will the wise ) and Will interacting via mirrors. The fire-wielding twin and the non powered twin had a lot of mirror imagery. Including the fire powered twin (Who denies reality/and imagines herself in a fantasy world) punching her reflection because it reminds her of her non-powered twin. Here’s some cover art from the novels showing how much they emphasize mirrors.

*And in s4 movies Black swan - “the black and white swan twins (two halves of the same person-Nina)” had creepy mirror imagery. In long kiss goodnight the women with DID talks to her “ (supposed)dark 1/2″ via a mirror (in a dream). in ‘the visit’ the teen girl who’s dad abandoned her when young- refuses to look in the mirror (and it’s never explained why she hates her reflection). So yes I think we’ll see this in s4 or 5. We already see the mf take on the appearance of Billy when talking to him.

- Will in “zombie boy” comic is afraid he’s a monster.

also lets appreciate the lil byler moment of Mike and Will being the only zombies and mike comforting him. honestly , though, the characters were pretty out of character for most of this 1 ch comic (until the end) tbh.

- in the “d&d comic” mf is (possibly) described as a “protector” (aka like how i said the mf is probably a perpetrator alter- which are misguided protectors).

*update now that it’s finished... hinting Will created everything subconsciously.

‘Runaway Max’ novel (before s3)

(I didn’t get time to read this book unlike ‘suspicious minds’ -so can’t show screen shots of everything others talked about. May read it eventually)

-Max compares Billy to ‘her monster’ and a ‘shadow’ that will attack anyone that comes close (mf parallel).

- Dart k*lled a cat, El’s papa tried to force her to k*ll a cat. And Billy when seeing a d*ad cat lights it on fire for a “viking funeral”. A connection to WW (who has fire powers) and El & dart.

-Max and Billy both are into cars and bond over fixing them (similar to Lonnie’s interest in fixing up cars). And since Lonnie tried to brag to Jonathan about fixing a car up and Will is into tech it wouldn’t be a stretch that Lonnie and Will were into fixing cars together (like Max/billy who would hang out at a autoshop in Cali) . Similar to Will ,max says hanging with Billy wasn’t always so bad- which made things more confusing to her.

- Max compares Billy being beat up by Neil: to ‘punching a pocket of a baseball glove’. This is interesting since this book was pre-s3 which was when they established the connection of billy and his dad to baseball (similar to s1 saying Lonnie taught Will baseball).

-Billy’s friend is a nice ‘music snob’ . He tries distracting Max with music while Billy is burning the cat. Which reminds me of Jonathan trying to distract Will from their parents fighting in the next room-with music

- Max’s bio dad is a criminal who takes her to shady bars, and Max fears he’d ‘get bored of her’. Max also ran away from her mom to her dad’s 2x.Which reminds me of Jonathan thinking Will ran to Lonnie’s in s1.

-Max mentions how Billy misses his friends after moving out of Cali. And he starts acting even worse-after the move. Which will probably be the case for Will (at least a bit) when moving to California.

-Billy tells Max Neil isn’t his ‘real dad’ either because Neil can’t be a father to anyone.

-Billy also tells Max who (at the time ) is 12 years old not to act “easy” and breaks her best friend’s (Nate’s) arm over someone joking he was Max’s boyfriend and also cause Nate tried to get in between Billy bullying Max. Eventually all her Cali friends ditch her cause they’re afraid of Billy.And Ugh- why could I see Lonnie doing something like this in the future with Will/his new friends.

- Creepily Max says Billy doesn’t fool around with her like other girls not because of her age or being family. But cause she wasn’t ‘attractive’. This whole excerpt gave me the heeby jeebies,on so many levels, honestly. Almost like he’s jealous- and controlling her cause he doesn’t want Max to have any love interests. Maybe i’m just missing the context? But ugh... excerpt:

Will byers secret Files

-Hopper gets scared by a pumpkin-scarecrow. And in Will’s canon journal when talking about the mindflayer and his nightmares draws the same scare-crow , Hopper saw. There’s also a lot of s4-5 foreshadowing in the book... but that’s a post for another day.

Darkness on the edge of town (Hopper novel)

*didn’t get time to read this (except the preview)

I think it’s more foreshadowing for future seasons though- cult/supposed ritual k*llings, people being wrongly blamed for those crimes-like the hellfire club , most likely. (similar to the guy number 3 in the number 6 comic) saint john in the novel also has the same brain control powers as 3- similar to the mf. .” When a blackout plunges the boroughs into chaos, Hopper must escape the the mobs in the streets to make sure his family is safe and stop Saint John from fulfilling his prophecy.” I already talked about here- how the next few seasons would start having more religious symbolism/a future apocalypse (based on what we’ve seen in the show/s4 movies). Although, i think there’s quite a few differences between (the novel’s) saint john and Will the wise. Hopper is also a star wars nerd like the boys (alter hint)

Canon spotify songs (posted after s2/before s3) hinting at DID/ alter /lonnie stuff-

Will and Will the wise (aka the mf) being an alter

*Used Will and the demogorgan playlist (which i think has perspectives of Will the wise aka the mf, demogorgan, and Lonnie).

Besides the mirror songs previously mentioned...

Will (cold inside)-Doctor the problem's in my chest.My heart feels cold as ice but it's anybody's guess?Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mind. Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mindWell it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside. Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside...Counselor give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life?

El (ghost)-your ghost, the ghost of you.It keeps me awake.My friends had you figured out.Yeah they saw what's inside of you. You tried hiding another you.But your evil was coming through... living in the shade Your cold heart makes my spirit shake.

El (monster Lead me home)-I don't know what, what I was afraid of, I was afraid oooof...Monster take me somewhere...We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.Where there is no place to hide.Stranger on the other side We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.

The’ innerworld’/ other hints Max, El, Hopper, and Billy are alters of Will’s

Max (Logical song)-I know it sounds absurd. Please tell me who I am, who I am, who I am, who I am?

EL(Buzzcut season)-I remember when your head caught flame It kissed your scalp and caressed your brain ...nothing's wrong when nothing's true. I live in a hologram with you Where all the things that we do for fun . Play along (make-believe it's hyper real) But I live in a hologram with you.

Billy (broken bones)-Broken bones.Stay alone. If I see only what I believe -reality's bound by what I conceive

Max (Why can’t i touch it)-Well, it seems so real.I can see it.And it seems so real-I can feel it.And it seems so real-I can taste it.And it seems so real-I can hear it.So why can't I touch it?

Hopper (breakers)-Just to keep me from losing my mind .It's so easy to drown in the dream.Oh, and everything is not what it seems This life is but a dream.Shatter illusions that hold your spirit down ...From the inside, so it seems.Oh, I'm telling you it's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a It's all a dream.”

Max (comfortably numb)-When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye.I turned to look but it was gone.I cannot put my finger on it now.The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably numb.

Max (Kids aren’t alright)-Still it's hard Hard to see Fragile lives, shattered dreams...What the hell is going on? The cruelest dream, reality.

El(team)-Livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. And you know we're on each other's team

Hopper (denial twist) ( just change ‘she’ to ‘he’)-Just because she makes you feel wrong she don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy!Take a tip and do yourself a little service...by playing a different role Ya, by playing a different role, oh.The boat ya you know she's rockin' it.And the truth well ya know there's no stoppin' it.So what, somebody left you in a rut and wants to be the one who's in control.But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder.How the hell she can be so cold?So now you're mad, denying the truth.And it's getting in the wisdom in the back of your tooth

El (the story)-You see the smile that's on my mouth.It's hiding the words that don't come out.And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed.They don't know my head is a mess.No they don't know who I really am.And they don't know what I've been through

El (hero) ( pretty much alludes to El being a construct of Will’s mind similar to his juju zombies in the d&d story he wrote )-Who knows what you'll find when you look inside (billy’s mind)?Haunted beach (billy flashback), roll the dice.The zombies in the corner aren't amused (d&d ref).Play the part of the blushing bride...Out of view, cloaked by night...My spirit dims, but I feel the force"No longer in my hands," (loses powers) .I say to you .I could've been a hero, I could've been a zero.Could've been all these thingsI could've been nothing, I could've had something.Could've been all these things.And if I am unable, tell him that I'll try but underneath the table will spin the wheel and hope for gold. Oh, and where it stops, nobody knows.

Max (it’s real)-I don't know who's behind the wheel.Sometimes I feel like I don't know The deal.But when I tell you how I feel-Believe me when I say It's real.I skated on a frozen Sea.It's real as far as I Can see?

Max (Halloween)-Because your role is planned for you there's nothing you can do.

El (White rabbit... alice and wonderland/lonnie ref)-And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall...When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead.

demogrogan(Dimensions of horror)-Gaze upon the ancient face you dread (lonnie)... Passing through the doors, into Dimensions Of Horror. Haunting visions from the past, rise once more.Realms of darkness, terror, death and gore.Scream in fear, your sanity is lost

demogorgan (SCHORCHED)-Terrorizing madness. Vivid dreams. internal. Hallucinating the unknown. Abstract entities prey.Through superhuman abilities.Fragments of memory erased.

demogrogan (Calling from a dream)-the shadow king...seven spirits (7 ref) Swarming around his head.Close your eyes.Listen to my call. Our bond will bring us together again.I will wait for you. For our hearts still beat as one.Listen to my calling from a dream. (integration?)

Maybe a coincidence or a hint at Will having both male &female alters?Billy (dude looks like a lady)- What a funky lady...Oh, he was a lady.Dude looks like a lady. Hopper (turn the page)-All the same old cliches,"Is that a woman or a man?" Max ( rebel rebel) (this was on her her pre s3 spotify list + post s3 “wrapped list”)- you got your mother in a whirl, doesn’t know if you’re a boy or girl?

SHIT DAD/ AB*SIVE FAMILY

*trigger w*rning ahead for dark themes like s**ual ab*se

demogorgan (my children)My children I never loved them.Why feel that way when their existence is my business?My children...feral vessals of my selfinterest...So don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.Don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.My children they're right behind you My children they're gonna beat you.My children if you let them Oh, oh, my children.

demogorgan (black dahlia-window): I’m not quoting the lyrics you can just look it up. it’s messed up.Based on the 1st person pov of Gilles de Rais -k**ler and p*d*rest who also kidnapped a cleric.

Will (creature comfort)-Some boys hate themselves.Spend their lives resenting their fathers... hate their bodies .Stand in the mirror (another mirror ref) and wait for the feedback.Some boys get too much, too much love, too much touch.

Jonathan’s Playlist- We’re happy family: “Eating refried beans (poverty). Gulpin’ down Thorazines (pills for a mood disorder). We ain’t got no friends (s2 ref). Our troubles never end. Daddy likes men. Daddy’s telling LIES.”

Jonathan’s playlist-Enter sandman: “Don’t forget my son. Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight, Exit light, Enter night. Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land. Something’s wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight. Dreams of LIARS and of things that will bite, yeah. Hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard. It’s just the beasts under your bed, in your closet in your head.”

Jonathan (The killing moon-guy sings this)-So soon you'll take me up in your arms. Too late to beg you or cancel it. Against your will!He will wait until you give yourself to him...In starlit nights I saw you.So cruelly you kissed me... unwillingly mine.

jonathan (haunted)-You and I both know that the house is haunted And you and I both know that the ghost is me. You used to catch me in your bed-sheets just a-rattling your chains.Well back then , it didn't seem so strange...In the midnight hour..I was busy trying to charm that snake. When the sun came up we had no place to hide...You and I both know that the house is haunted yeah you and I both know that the ghost is YOU! You used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors Well I'm all grown up now and I don't scare easy no more But you and I both know.

Hopper (Confession)-Now I'm on the low Confession, to a virgin ghost Admission, force you know.

hopper (Tomorrow ) Yeah, and back when s*x and amph*tamines were the staples of our childhood physique.

Max (Last caress)-I got something to say.I k**led your baby today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as it's de*d.Well I got something to say.I r*ped your mother today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as she spread. (Lonnie pov? Neil?messed up song to be on Max’s list)

hopper House of the rising sun- And my father was a gamblin' man Way down in New Orleans... And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk

Max Poor relations-An attitude, no patience, he's paper thin.Talking over everything you have to say...Don't correct the things he said, what's the use?Can't handle violence.Can't handle violence.Learning to love the abuse you can't live without.Your familiar oppression, your daily injustice...That loser man that belongs to you, he's ruling you.

el (sweet dreams are made of this)- Some of them want to use you ...Some of them want to ab*se you.Sweet dreams are made of this...Hold your head up.Keep your head up, movin' on.

Max (Alternative ulster)-They say they're a part of you.And that's not true, you know.They say they've got control of you.And that's a lie, you know.They say you will never Be free, free, free

max In bloom-”Sometimes at night I let it get to me.And last night it had me down and feeling NUMB...And thinking back upon those days Way way back when I was young.I was such a little shit.Cos I was always on the run.Well you know just what they say-Just like father then like son.Don't delude me with your sympathy.Cos I can do this on my own.And this will be the last time-That I break down and wanna crawl to bed. “(since Billy has a playlist I found this song choice being on hers instead of his interesting- in fact almost all of Max’s songs are from the 1st person perspective of a boy unlike the other gals.)

Max (comfortably numb)-The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably NUMB.

hopper (numb)-Honey, here I go again Down that crooked road of sin.My momma locked me out again And hung me high to rust under the rain I am NUMB( 8x)....Little bluebird at my window Sing a pretty song for me Don't you know that you can fly, fly, fly away Don't you know that you can leave I am numb.

other psych songs

Hopper (life of sin)-Every morning when I rise I look in the mirror (another mirror ref) and despise the sight of everything and all that I've become. The level of my medicating some might find intimidating But that's alright cause' it don't bother me none.

Max (Moon over marin)- “Dive in my scalding wooden tub (connects to mf/el)...There, wasn't that a nice visit?Don't forget, a psychiatrist is on duty twenty-four hours a day in the blue room...Drink plenty of water when you take these.Now you can relax.” ( I wonder if stranger writers saying to “drink plenty of water” is secretly a line said by a psych person in s4?)

Max (Feeling ok)-My doctor says that I should take it -At least I won't have to keep faking.I know, someday I'll find it-Where I, I least expect it.Today I know I feel ok.

Max ( Going gets tough)-.No home since the fire.Me and the ash can't settle down...So I sink another round-Placebo for pain.And there's no one for to blame . I refuse to accept-That my work is all in vain...Still always remembering .When the going gets tough .That the labor of our love-Will reward us soon enough.

Max (Comfortably numb)-Hello? (Hello? Hello? Hello?)Is there anybody in there?Just nod if you can hear me.Is there anyone home?Come on now-I hear you're feeling down.Well I can ease your pain .Get you on your feet again.Relax // Now I've got that feeling once again.I can't explain . you would not understand.This is not how I am. I have become comfortably numb.I have become comfortably numb //Okay (okay, okay, okay)Just a little pinprick.There'll be no more, ah .But you may feel a little sick.Can you stand up?I do believe it's working, good.That'll keep you going through the show.Come on it's time to go// Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

Explanations of Why the mf (WIll the wise)behaves the way he does

demogorgan (ww) (Cowards starved)- friends think of me as a priest.I had to show them that the weakest hands Can still make impressive fires. (aka MF = will the wise)

demogorgan (ww) (Unmerciful):I will be reborn...Tranquil demeanor.Now devoured.Surfacing malice...I can't reconcile the torment others bring unto me.I will not take any reproach.Turning the other cheek.Relentless hatred consumes.Control released.Absolved of all compassion.I am free .Look into my hate filled eyes and tell me What do you see?Surging aura of my rage Paralyzing you in fear.

Demogorgan (ww) (bodies-Beaten why for (why for)?Can't take much more.(Here we go, here we go, here we go).One, nothing wrong with me,Two, nothing wrong with me.Three, nothing wrong with me.Four, nothing wrong with me.One, something's got to give.Two, something's got to give.Three, something's got to give now...You're all by yourself but you're not alone...Driven by hate consumed by fear.

demogrgan (ww)-Orbs used as transmitters carry electromagnetic beams from above (affecting magnetic fields in the show).Silence, manipulated, tortured ...How immune is your system of suffering?Its in the blood of suffering (familial ref).Its in the blood.

Demogrgan (Monster)-I shoot the lights out..Whoa, just another lonely night...None of who you get it, ain't nobody cold as this.A zombie (will ref) with no conscience .Everybody knows I'm a motherfucking monster. Everybody wanna know what my Achilles' heel is? Love I don't get enough of it.

#stranger things #will byers #stranger things comics #did theory

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xiaonesis · 4 years

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Ghosts We See // Chapter 2

A Haikyuu!! Reverse Harem Series

Summary:

When a volleyball was spiked into your head, you did not expect it to be powerful enough to send you into another dimension completely.

As you look for a way to return home, the powers and politics of this new world are each intent on keeping you for themselves for their own gains, purposes, and motivations. Everyone wants something, and you are at the core of it.

The line between the world you know and the world you are discovering blurs, affecting not just you but the two worlds too.

As you hold on tight to the ends of the strings that keep everything together, your mind, body, and heart unravels at the seams as the two worlds begin falling apart.

This must be how Spider-Man felt in Homecoming as he tried to keep two halves of a breaking ship together.

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Reality, Fantasy, Reverse Harem, Dimension Travel, Romance, Drama & Romance, Adventure & Romance, Slow Romance, Falling In Love, Alternate Characters, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Reverse Harem With A Plot, Slow Build, Non-Graphic Violence, Attempt at Humor, Angst, Isekai, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, so much slowburn the whole forest is on fire, this thing is a roller coaster of up and downs, so wear your seatbelts, Rating may go up, this fic is long guys, have I mentioned slowburn?

All chapters can be found on AO3 (24 chapters as of this post; link on my pinned navigation) I recommend reading on AO3 as Tumblr messes with a lot of the text formats I use in many of the chapters.

Ghosts We See // Chapter 2: The First Leap

if an owl hoots at you in warning, remember this

1 for a nightmare. 4 for death. 8 to turn around. 10 for an unwelcome truth.

"What about now?"

"Can you hear me now?"

Something felt wet and squishy below you as your consciousness slowly returned to you.

There was a harsh pounding in your head, and it felt like a migraine was going to stick its claws into you for the next several hours. A throbbing burn pulsed at the side of your scalp, and you could feel without touching it that a bump had begun to form. The last thing you remember was something hitting you very painfully.

With a groan, you pried your eyes open blearily, tears dabbing at your corners from the blurry state of the world. Giving yourself several moments for your eyesight to adjust, you finally blinked them open in better clarity.

The night sky peered down at you in an outstanding clearness that you have never seen before. Stars speckled the blanket of midnight blue, reminding you very much of the curtains that decorated your own room in Tokyo. They glittered spectacularly, their light shining down upon the earth in faint glimmers that trickled out. It was a sight you definitely would not be able to see in a city polluted with neon lights and haze.

“What…?”

As your eyes started to adjust to the darkness, you started to make out dark silhouettes of branches and leaves framing your sight, tall trees looming over you with their long arms and fingers, as if waiting to furl in on you to keep you in their depths. Your fingers curled beside you and you felt wet blades of grass folding beneath your digits. A clean earthy scent started to make itself known to your nose.

Quickly sitting up, you winced and pushed two fingers on either side of the back of your neck, a pulsating pain rushing up the column of it with your movement. When it died down to a more bearable level, you opened your eyes again and looked around you, a strange sense of panic slowly creeping into your heart whilst remaining mystified.

Where the hell are you?

The last you recalled you were at the gym. You were leaving the practice match, intent on going home to sleep.

Well, this was definitely not home and you were definitely not in bed.

You were in a forest, as far as you can tell, with the giant trees, moss, and bushes that surrounded you. Was this Atsumu’s and Oikawa’s way of getting back at you for trying to leave their match early? Leaving you in a forest?

As petty as they could be sometimes, you doubted they would do that to you or anybody for that matter.

It was dark, and the night air nipped at your skin, reminding you that you were dressed for a sunny Tokyo spring day and not the wet night air that swirled around you. You could feel the worry and panic that had slowly surfaced when you woke start to rear their heads again, but you tamped them down as best you could.

You should try to figure out where you were and why you were here, and not home in bed or an infirmary somewhere. Why didn’t they bring you to an infirmary? You were pretty sure the bump on your head was caused by a volleyball that spiked into it like a swinging hammer to a nail.

The worst thing you can do now is panic.

Slowly, you stood up, a hand stretched out against a nearby tree trunk to help support you as you allowed the wave of nausea and dizziness to pass by. You spotted your bag nearby, and you bent back down to grab it, quickly checking its contents and was satisfied to see that all your belongings were still in there.

Patting yourself down, you felt the familiar shape of your phone in your back pocket, safely lodged deep inside.

Slinging your bag onto your back, you started off in a random direction, having no idea which way was which and the darkness didn’t help. But it was better than staying in one place in your opinion.

You weren’t sure how long you walked, it felt like forever but it could not have been for more than an hour. There was no signal on your phone when you tried to use your GPS to check your location or when you tried to call your parents. You even tried to call Osamu but the signal goes dead as soon as you click the call button. Seeing that it was useless right now, you powered it down to conserve battery, just in case.

The forest was silent save for the soft whispering of the wind through the trees. In a different set of circumstances, you would have found it to be relaxing, calming even, but right now they were downright creepy and it made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand. There was something unsettling in the way the winds sounded, like a low voice cooing from the shadows, trying to ensnare the poor souls that fell to their calls.

Really, where the fuck are you? And why?

If this really is the doing of one of the star setters, it was in really poor taste. Again, you knew that it is very unlikely. Iwaizumi or Osamu would have stopped them even if they tried. But you could not for the life of you figure out why you woke up in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.

You did not see any signs of other forms of life. Not a single speck of city light, a single house, a single person, a single squirrel, a single insect. None. Zero. Nada.

And it was when that realization dawned on you that you really started to feel a nervous sweat perspire on your palms and neck. You should have seen at least a mosquito by now, shouldn’t you?

It was nearing the end of spring, encroaching on the days when the rainy season would arrive and those little buggers are out making their nests in puddles of collected water where they can.

You swallowed, internally fighting off the panic that wanted to take over as you trudged on through the forest, climbing over logs and going under low hanging branches. It was only a few moments later when you started to hear a sound that was not the wind.

hoo

An owl.

Okay, okay. You’ll take that. Anything was better than having only the sound of the creepy wind accompanying you. It was also a sign of life, and that relaxed you somewhat, debunking your thoughts that there was no other animated life besides you.

hooo

hoooo

Hmm, where is that owl anyways? Was it nearby or were its hoots being carried over to you with the wind?

You wondered as you started walking a diagonal path from where you are instead of straight, hoping to come across something different from trees in your new direction.

The owl continued to hoot around you, and you were starting to feel unsure if it is only one owl or more than one. Their hoots were soft and long and left a lasting impression on your ears and skin. You didn’t think owls could be this creepy.

hooooo

The hoots continued to echo around you no matter how much distance you put between you and...from wherever it was calling from. Suddenly, you wished it was just you and the wind again because the owl was starting to creep the hell out of you and a spine-chilling cold was slithering on your back.

hooooooo

This time the call was much closer.

Had you been heading towards the owl? Is that why its hoots have been increasing in frequency and volume? Because you were encroaching on its territory?

You gulped and turned towards another direction instead, in the hopes that you will leave the owl’s territory soon and that you did not antagonize it. Keyword being hope.

Nope, the hoots continued no matter which direction you went, and before you realized it you had started on a light jog before transitioning into an outright sprint through the forest. Branches scratched and nicked at your skin and clothes, wet dirt kicking up underneath the soles of your shoes as you skidded on moss and grass.

hoooooooo

Goddamn, was it your imagination or did it sound like it was getting closer?

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

And louder!!?

A yelp of surprise tore from your throat when you slipped on a patch of wet moss and you tumbled down the low plane to the side, rolling and falling painfully on your back. The items in your bag dug painfully into your spine.

Pain on your leg shifted your gaze down where you can faintly see a harsh red line running up the side of it and you’re pretty sure you were bleeding. Why today of all days did you not wear long pants?

You were about to sit up to examine the damage when suddenly a shadow dropped silently over your form with nary a flutter, crouching over you with long legs on either side of your waist and your arms frozen beside you.

A piercing scream erupted from your throat, cutting through the night air.

Golden orbs winced and narrowed above you, before a hand clamped down harshly on your lower face, squeezing.

You were going to struggle and had the idea of kicking the figure hunched over you under the belt (they were in a prime position for you to do so, and had not bothered to restrain your limbs) when they suddenly shifted forward, bringing their face that was previously covered in darkness closer down to you, allowing you to clearly see their face.

You forgot about struggling. The hooting has stopped.

Silver hair gleamed under the dim light of the moon and stars, sharp black streaks running through it in areas, parting in a manner that strangely reminded you of the head of an owl. Large and impossibly golden eyes with deep black irises peered down at you, a piercing edge in them that sent chills down your already cold, wet back. His head cocked to the side, his hair shifting together with his movement and eyes never once leaving you. Nor blinking.

His eyes were so unnatural.

A nervous whimper reflexively left you, shuddering against his palm that was still clamped tightly onto you. You felt it push down on your face ever so slightly, pressing your head into the ground painfully. Far and deep in the back of your mind, you thought you have seen his face before. But your arms shivered not from the cold, but the fear and panic that was starting to seep into your bones, and that was all you were aware of.

A pit in your gut and your hammering heart told you that this person is not good news.

A wide and splitting grin broke across his face and his eyes sharpened even more.

He still hasn’t blinked.

“Well, well, well...look what the cat dragged in.”

For the first time in your life, you hated owls.

His words sent a tremble through you that you were sure he felt on the sides of his legs that were pressed to you, not moving from his crouch. Something about the way he said it did not sit well with you and you took in a shaky breath, unable to say anything with the grip on your face that was starting to hurt.

Your eyes flitted down his figure, taking note of the...unusual clothes he wore, for a lack of better words. His attire consisted of mainly black clothes with the occasional white, that were lined aesthetically with sparing gold stripes that shimmered faintly in the dark. He adorned light leather boots that were equally as dark as the rest of his attire, and what looked like leather padding ran from his knees to his mid-thighs Leather gauntlets lined with durable cloth covered his arms, and various straps and belts crisscrossed over his hips and chest. A dark hood fell over the back of his shoulders, large enough that when pulled up would completely swathe his face in darkness. A circular gold emblem depicting an owl with its wings spread and an arrow rising above its crown adorned the front of his vest.

A bow was strapped on his back, alongside two blades that crossed horizontally right above his hips. Their handles jutted out from either of his sides, where he can easily pull them out of their scabbards.

...Is this guy doing some hardcore L.A.R.P?

There was no other explanation for his seriously realistic costume and uncalled for treatment of you. What sort of role is he playing, an assassin or rogue of sorts, perhaps?

A sort of irritation started to take over you, pushing out the initial fear and nerves that he had scared into you with his sudden assault. He must have seen the annoyed tick in your eyes, for a sick kind of grin tugged at his lips and his eyes glimmered at you like a predator who was about to toy with their prey.

He removed his hand from your face and leaned back, but made no move to get up and away from you, continuing to squat over you with his legs spread out on your sides, arms now resting on his thighs as if he was resting his legs after a long day of standing. Any other time and your face would have been flushed at his proximity, and this demeaning position, but you were irritated and the throbbing on your head is back.

“What do you think you’re doing? It’s dangerous to jump out like that!” You reprimanded him and his grin grew even wider. That little knock in the back of your head returned again, rapping at your mental walls that his face was not unfamiliar to you but you ignored it. There were more important things to do now, like telling this guy off. Even nice people get angry when jumped by a rando late at night.

“Well girl, wandering around in the forest in the dead of the night in these parts, you can’t blame me for thinking that you were looking for trouble.” Golden eyes narrowed.

Girl? How much ruder can this guy get?

You sighed tiredly albeit still frustrated. You were cold, tired, hurt, sore, and definitely in no mood to roleplay with him.

“Look, if you want to cosplay and LARP in the middle of the night, that’s your prerogative but it isn’t nice to involve other people like this.”

The man whose face you couldn’t place cocked a brow at you, and his eyes finally but surely blinked. Very slowly, his lids closed once, only once, before opening again to look at you owlishly.

“Larp? Cosplay?” He mumbled lowly, eyes never once losing sight of you with their never breaking stare. Seriously, did he not get dry eyes?

With a small huff, you made to sit up and remove yourself from under him since it didn’t look like he was going to move. Immediately you were pushed down again, harder this time, and you felt the edge of something thin and sharp press against your neck.

“I didn’t say you can move, mouse .”

Oh...okay. That thing against your neck is real, isn’t it? It certainly felt real, and you definitely felt threatened enough with the feel of its lightweight on your jugular. The golden eyes of the male shimmered and glimmered almost crazily above you, blown wide with pitch-black dots pinning on your form as if he was barely resisting slicing you open.

“L-Look-,” you began but stilled when there was an eensy tiny prick on your skin and quickly zipped your mouth. The wind was howling and the tips of his silver hair shone against the dark sky, like the reflection of moonlight on a lake. The tapping in the back of your mind became more insistent, and you focused on that to distract yourself from the loud pounding of your chest.

“I ask the questions. I do the talking, got it, little mouse?”

He lifted the dagger slightly off you, allowing just enough space for you to nod in affirmation. The blade remained close enough that with one swipe of his arm, you were done for. This guy was serious and you were starting to realize that now. Cosplay or not, he is bad news.

“Now tell me,” the dagger rolled between his fingers, never moving from their steady position right by your neck “-why is a mouse like you out skittering about at this hour?”

His other hand went to the collar of your shirt, tugging at it with two fingers. You swallowed another gulp. Oh god, please-, please don’t be a sex criminal too.

“And explain your strange clothes.”

Phew. Okay, okay. Your chastity was safe at least. You’ll take that.

Not understanding yourself why you were out here or where you were, you went with the truth. “I-I d-don’t know.” Flinching at your own raspy voice, you cleared your throat. “Last I remembered, I was knocked out and when I woke up...I was here.” You paused, wondering if you should ask where you were. But his previous warning rang in your head and you rephrased your words instead. “I don’t know where I am.”

There was no response as the man merely stared at you with his frightening unblinking eyes. The rapping in your head turned faster and more insistent. Another tug at your collar and you scrambled to answer his other question.

“...it’s a band t-shirt.” You finished lamely. Has he never seen a t-shirt before?

His eyes narrowed at you as if he was considering the truth to your words. The owl emblem on his chest glinted in the moonlight, and you stared at it while he stared at you, and neither of you moved or said anything.

And then the raps in your head stopped as only the emblem filled your vision.

“Bokuto...Koutarou?”

In a flash, the blade was back against your neck, harder this time, and you feared that he might have already sliced your jugular open and the pain just hasn’t registered in your now terrified brain yet. The hand that was at your collar now pushed excruciatingly on your sternum, and your backpack pushed back in kind from below you. His head dived at yours, but his body barely moved nor shifted, and it reminded you of those horrific videos of owls moving their heads this way and that but their bodies remained static and- oh my god - his eyes were burning an alarming gold right in front of you and you instinctively screwed your eyes shut.

“Why.Do.You.Know.My.Name?”

He had been creepy and scary, and made you nervous up till then but now he was downright terrifying.

“I-I-I don’t know!” The pressure on your sternum intensified. “I..y-you’re B-Bokuto Koutarou, a-aren’t you? W-We...we go to university t-together!”

“Do we now?”

“Y-Yes!!” You cried, eyes screwing shut tighter and tighter until it actually started to hurt. Tears stung at your eyes, and it took everything in you to not sob lest you cut yourself against his blade.

It was quiet and still around you but you dared not open your eyes to look at the person you were all too aware was still upon you. Your breaths came out loud and shaky, whilst you barely heard any breathing from the Bokuto look-alike but the cool puffs against your face told you otherwise.

What’s going on? He’s Bokuto Koutarou, isn’t he? You finally remembered now, you met Bokuto Koutarou, what seemed like months ago, but the both of you had never really interacted much for no reason other than that you just never really crossed paths very often or had a reason to. It had been a while since you thought of Bokuto Koutarou so it didn’t register in your brain right away. You were so dense and stupid!

The Bokuto Koutarou you knew is friends with Kuroo and Kenma, and from what you have seen and heard of him, he is loud, bright, cheerful, and just loud.

The Bokuto Koutarou before you is dark, menacing, hostile, and oh so quiet.

Tears finally tracked its way down the side of your temples despite your tightly scrunched lids.

You just wanted to go home. Go home, have a warm shower, crawl into bed, and get some sleep. That was all you wanted when you woke up this morning.

Why was it so hard just to get some good night’s sleep?!

Cold fingers touched your temple, and you uneasily pried your eyes open to see the not-Bokuto Koutarou drag the wetness on your skin away with his index and middle finger. He lifted damp fingers up, holding them in the air whilst keeping his wide unblinking eyes on your fearful ones.

“Hm.”

Something pricked at the skin of your neck and your vision swam, darkness circling in as a heavy drowse started to overtake you. Oh no...oh no, no-

No...NO! No, no, no!

You wanted to sleep but not like this! Not unwillingly! Goddamn it- no!! Not again!

...not again...

Your head lolled to the side, breaths evening out into deep and steady puffs.

Bokuto Koutarou waited a beat to see that the girl is indeed fully knocked out before dropping the Talon he had used on her, pulling out a small vial from the pouch hung on his side. He wiped the two fingers that were still barely damp with the girl’s tears on the edge of the vial, eyes watching with a satisfied glint as he saw that there was enough moisture collected to form one measly drop that trickled to the bottom of the vial.

It was enough. He only did it as a morbid just-in-case scenario. Corporeal reagents charged with emotions is always handy.

Capping the vial and securing it back in his pouch, he picked up the dropped Talon and stood up, towering over the girl sleeping peacefully away between his legs, the Nox-Somnus Talon he pricked the girl with cradled carelessly in his careful hands.

Her similarities to her are striking. Similar does not even cut it, their faces were perfect imitations of each other.

But he had heard the news...the rumors. So how is she here?

He had been scouting the area when he suddenly sensed her presence pop up on his radar, tingling on the strands of his hair and the tips of his fingers. Stealthily tracking her down, he was immediately alert and wary.

A human girl, here, wandering around the edges of the forest that drew the borders that separated his realm and that of his enemies? In the late-night? A harmless girl he thinks not.

And when she turned and he got a clear vision of her face, he was doubly suspicious.

A doppelganger? Or perhaps even one of those dastardly foxes on a mission to wreak havoc and confusion?

So he followed her, waiting and watching to see what she will do, what she is up to. But when all she did was walk, and walk, and walk and waaaalk, he got bored. So very bored.

And so he decided to have some fun by playing with her, scaring her. He did always enjoy toying with his hunts before diving in for the kill. And it worked oh so easily as she took off running, and he followed and continued to echo around her until she slipped and went rolling.

Playtime’s over then.

He had planned to finish it quickly and get it over with, so he can watch her form distort and melt back to whatever the original was but no, instead, she suddenly snapped at him, and that tickled him. She must be very stupid to not recognize his telling features. At least even his emblem, the sight of which would make even the largest man whimper in defeat.

It was only then he seriously considered her attire and the strange words that had spilled out of her mouth. He had no knowledge of whatever she spoke of, and never has he seen attire like hers before. So he prodded her a little to satisfy his curiosity. Just a little.

And then she spoke his name.

His name tumbling from her lips raised all the war flags in his bones for no one besides his closest confidants and allies really knew his name. Ordinary folk only knew of his aliases, his monikers, and sobriquets, and some lucky and intellectual few might know part of his name, or a syllable, but she had spoken his full name without a thought.

If they were not a friend or an ally and yet knows his name, then they were an enemy that knew what they were doing.

And yet, he found himself watching in morbid curiosity and fascination as she trembled and was unable to even squirm for fear of her life beneath him. If she truly is an enemy, they should have retaliated as soon as they saw the threat in him rise. There was no lie to her words and emotions that bared her fear of him, and his own all-seeing eyes confirmed it themselves.

One would have to be a celestial being of some sort to be able to fool his eyes. And maybe not even then.

It was enough for him to make a light decision to put her to sleep for easy transport. He didn’t want to deal with this and yet, it didn’t feel minuscule enough that he could just slice her open and let it end there.

So he’ll just delegate it. Well, less delegate and more like reporting it.

Securing the Talon and his dropped dagger away, he shifted to crouch beside the girl and not over her.

And just for one more time that night, he allowed his eyes to close and blink once morex before he opened them again to resume his staring of the girl with a face he has gazed upon before.

The big cat boss would definitely want this dragged in.

"...Can you still not hear me?"

If you enjoyed this, please do check out the other chapters on AO3 and spare a reblog <3 It will be very much appreciated TwT;

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scorpionite-astrology · 4 years

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SUN IN Pisces ♓️

Ruler: Neptune/Jupiter ( ancient astrology ).

Stone: Rose Quartz and Amethyst.

Nickname: The vessel

The lost mermaid who longs for a home in the real world. This being is someone complicated made by desires, fantasy, dreams and hopes who are felt in their heart. They have a delusional approach to life and their perception of things is abstract. They experience the world like images they build in their mind. A colourful personality with strong desire to express their feelings on what they feel is right. Their signature characteristic is their empathy, which they also use as a weapon. Another trait is their ability to shape their personalities in what they feel to be at the moment. They can go from the sexy person to the nerdy one in a blink of an eye. One of the most underestimated qualities is their ability to find logic in chaos. For that reason they are great at solving other people’s problems and especially those who lead a chaotic life. They identity however is rarefied and influenced by other people’s energy. In a group they tend to replicate the mannerisms and lifestyle of their friends. This can lead to lose their identity, thinking something they are actually aren’t. They long to find their place in the world and to feel like they are human being. They crave acceptance but find hard to detach. They think their light is always outshined, which is not true. You truly make people feel seen for that reason you become our light. Your shadow side is gloomy. You can become disillusioned and bitter. You could have the tendency to curse and damn everything around you as well God or any other entityies you believe in, labeling them as the main cause of your misfortunes. You could become like a polluted ocean. You could engage in behaviors that are risky not only to your health like heavy drinking and use drugs, but also for who does love you. Another remarkable bad traits could be you feeling that you deserve better from the world, which is also can be true, still walking in this line of self-destruction is not a good way to protest actually you are helping it. I must say that you can be also very generous, but at the same time opportunistic.

Sun in Pisces in the 1st house:

You try to assert and bring life to your character in a quirky yet bubbly fashion. You want that your personality shines for what it is instead of camouflaging yourself. Even if you will find some resistence in your way with people who don’t understand you, like Luna Lovegood you can bounce back again and find strenght in your sensitivity and being aware that you are being yourself.

Sun in Pisces in the 2nd house:

You are a giver and find yourself in taking care of who you love like a very doting grandmother or grandfather. You don’t care about expenses if that makes your family happy. For you the most important things are your people and their needs. This matter for you is as important as paying bills. Can treasures stuff like stones and other things that you see as having magical properties.

Sun in Pisces in the 3rd house:

You are more keen about informations that you analyze with your gut. You can be very good at deciphering and feel when there something that is missing just by pure intution. You could find easier to text then to talk with people.

Sun in Pisces in the 4th house:

You find your home not even in your physical home but in your mind and inner world. You could like to isolate yourself and be contemplative. Like to reflect and wonder. You could have a dad who was the kept one. Your family could descend from a witchy or psychic lineage.

Sun in Pisces in the 5th house:

You could be someone who is cordial but elusive. Someone who is really fun to be around but prefer cultivating their talents which include crafting arts. Can feel a strong magnetic pull toward children and teaching them stuff or to tell fairy-tales to impress them. The father can be the figure who inspired them to never give up on their passions and could have tought them how to draw or play an instrument.

Sun in Pisces in the 6th house:

The native can easily put others’s needs before their own. You can be pleasant, cheery and helpful. At times too much which can compromise your health. You can easy stress yourself out even if you don’t want to believe it. You can be the more realistic PIsces and the one who accustomes more to the harsh realty. You try to be the optimistic one even when confronted with hardships and negativity.

Sun in Pisces in the 7th house:

The native is an hopeless romantic and can be sacrificing. They could envision their life like a fairy tale and prone to not feel alive if they don’t have a companion. It’s not rare that this native can be too much depedent on what his spouse or lover thinks. Sometimes this behaviour stems from losing the affection of someone if they don’t act as someone ask them to. It could be also an indicator that your father may left you to seek other things.

Sun in PIsces in the 8th house:

This individual is gifted with great emotional intelligence which can use for bad and good. Is someone who can be darkned by the house itself. The native can react badly when confronted with lies and create more damage. They can also have fear to be not strong enough in relationships and to fail in build a loving relatioship. They could sabotage their relationship by being manipulative and making themselves look the victim. They could find hard to discern behaviours and deceive themselves by looking only the bad side of it. They can be pessimistic, however if they learn to be more obejctive and to keep their thoughts in check they can be a great supporter of others. Judgemental.

Sun in Pisces in the 9th house:

Visionary and a reader. Well-rounded and open minded. Someone wise and patient. It’s someone who likes to expolre ideas and to feel the world like an alien who is for the first time on earth. As much they would like to explore and be in nature, they could find moving and travelling scary. They could get lost easily and bewildered in the mass. Attracted by movies and libraries. Some them can use precognition if other aspects confirms psychic abilities.

Sun in Pisces in the 10th house:

Who I want to be, who am I and what I need to “be” to be. Those are the questions that probably are inside the native. They don’t know what they are and usually morph in many characters until they find that their personality which is a kaleidoscope and multilayered.They can be influenced by the views of other people and defined by it. The native seeks to become one with the world to portray their life like a movie and be known for their being “something else”. Dreaming big is their trademark characteristic. It wouldn’t be strange if they in their childhood desired to be a princess or king as a job.

Sun in Pisces in the 11th:

This individual in order to feel alive must have a group or mission to identify with. The native is humanitarian, compassionate and is moved easliy. Has a soft spot for people who are slaves, suffering or ill. They can feel obliged to take other people’s cause. They also can be seductive and innovative. They are interested in all social stigmas and are very hospitable. Even if they are one of the most selfless people you may ever met, still this doesn’t mean that they will trust you or let you in their world. They can be extremely reserved but will be outspoken regarding ideas that will help improve the world.

Sun in Pisces in the 12th:

Their vibration is probably the nearest to the veil and the other world. They can seem so distant, closed and complex because they belong more to something that hasn’t anything to do with the living. They can be extremely sensitive to any energies and are fascinating. They are ghostly and listeners. Their eyes dart around suspiciously and confused. They find hard to explain themselves because for them is like having one foot to one side and the other on the other side. They can be called as having the head in the clouds, but you will never know what they are experiencing there chaos, imprisonment or freedom. They have a soft spot for people who have mental illnesses which really often they think to have a link with. They could have felt to have something wrong since childhood and that could also emphasized by their family who didn’t believe them. The word that probably they could be identified with is outcast.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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15 Best SNES Platformers Ever

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Platformers have long been an entry point for new gamers. Video games may have greatly expanded in scope over the years and now offer so many different genres and experiences that it’s nearly impossible to keep track of them, but that’s actually a big part of the reason why it’s still so much fun to look back at these timeless games where the main objective was often to simply jump from one place to the next.

There is no console that celebrated the brilliance of the platformer better than the Super Nintendo Entertainment System. The SNES may be best known for expanding the adventure and RPG genres, as well as raising a generation’s expectations for video game graphics, but few consoles have come close to rivaling the Super Nintendo’s library of classic platforming titles.

It’s hard to narrow this list down to just 15 games, but from action-based platformers to pure platforming classics, these are the best examples of this timeless genre that the SNES gifted the gaming world.

15. Jelly Boy

Putting you in control of a jelly baby (a candy that is popular in the U.K. and surrounding areas), Jelly Boy was only released in Europe when it debuted in 1994. The game has a colorful aesthetic and some unique platforming elements built around the main character’s ability to transform into a myriad of vehicles, tools, and other objects. Those metamorphoses will be familiar to anyone who has played a Wario Land title or Kirby’s Epic Yarn.

Admittedly, Jelly Boy‘s mechanics can be a little clunky and the controls are deficient compared to some of the later games on this list. Still, you will be hard-pressed to find a more original platformer on the console that isn’t made by Nintendo themselves. You can even play it now via the Nintendo Switch Online service.

14. Demon’s Crest

Released by Capcom in 1994 as the third game featuring the character Firebrand (who debuted in the Ghosts ‘n Goblins series), Demon’s Crest is a forgotten gem in the SNES catalog. It adds some variety to the traditional action-platformer by giving the playable protagonist the ability to fly and shoot fireballs as well as access other upgradeable attacks and maneuvers as their quest rolls along. That feature adds a little Zelda-like adventuring to the mix, and you’ll certainly need those late-game power-ups because this platformer means business.

There are many difficult platformers on this list, but few boast the plethora of boss battles seen in this one. It’s actually similar to Mega Man in terms of its fighting style and jumping requirements, so if you are looking for an alternative to the Blue Bomber that keeps the basics of the genre intact, you’ll have a hard time doing better than Demon’s Crest.

13. Joe & Mac

Joe & Mac is honestly a fairly basic platformer for its era. What gets it onto this list of the best games in that genre, though, is the creativity and execution of its setting.

The game sees you control two different cavemen who rely on basic prehistoric items such as fire, bats, bones, etc. The bosses are pretty cool (dinosaurs are fun for all ages) and the controls hold up well enough that you won’t ever feel like you have to force the avatar into doing something that the interface simply won’t allow for. The game spawned a sequel that was also released on SNES, but the original is unique enough to get the nod here.

12. Super Ghouls ‘n Ghosts

Despite what the title may suggest, Super Ghouls ‘n Ghosts is actually the third game in the Ghosts ‘n Goblins series. Like the previous games, this classic sees you battle various monsters and bosses that fit the setting nicely. Although the game is maybe a little too action-heavy to get the nod over the SNES’ best platformers, it uses its platforming elements to elevate the entire experience.

The difficulty is insanely high and the sheer amount of sprites on screen at once can lead to some lag that only adds to the frustrations of this arduous journey, but the game has a way of keeping things light and humorous when the frustration sets in. How many other games see the protagonist stripped of their armor, quite literally, when he takes too many hits?

11. Donkey Kong Country 3: Dixie Kong’s Double Trouble!

The third installment in the beloved Donkey Kong Country trilogy certainly isn’t hated by many, but it is usually viewed as a step down from the first two games. Whether that has to do with a change in composer for the soundtrack, the inability to play as Donkey or Diddy, or the fact it was released after the Nintendo 64 was on the market, the title’s sometimes mixed reputation often prevents it from being appreciated as a divine platforming experience.

The environments and storytelling in this game are well-executed. If you’re observant, you may even notice that the developers were trying to say something about the sad state of ape habitats and pollution in the wild. Even if you didn’t dive too deep into that surprising bit of social commentary, you’ll likely find that the platforming in this one remains top-notch and that the overall experience remains severely underrated.

10. DoReMi Fantasy: Milon’s DokiDoki Adventure

As the only game on this list that wasn’t initially released outside of Japan, many gamers may not know that DoReMi Fantasy is a whimsical experience that features some of the key elements of Mario and Kirby’s best adventures in terms of gameplay and graphics. Starring a young child whose objective is to reclaim music for the forest, DoReMi utilizes some clever puzzles that may not be unusual for the platformer genre but certainly add to the fun.

The game got a Virtual Console release in North America in 2008, but that’s sadly the best chance many gamers have had in recent years to take a chance on this title. It’s a great example of how people should be more open to experiencing games that weren’t localized the first time around.

9. Donkey Kong Country

Perhaps the most famous game starring Nintendo’s lovable ape, the original Donkey Kong Country was Rare’s first big title for the SNES and practically started their decade-plus long relationship as a second-party developer with the Big N. Tasked with showing off off the console’s pre-rendered graphics system, the crew from Britain proved to be up to the task. Honestly, this game still looks halfway decent in 2021.

While the actual platforming is not as good as the Super Mario games on the SNES, it offered a different flavor of jumping that is still very much appreciated. The “weight” of Donkey Kong and Diddy means that the platforming is less flighty than in Super Mario games, and the rideable animal buddies you encounter along the way add a little flair to the experience.

8. ActRaiser

As a game that serves as both an action-platformer and a God simulator, this underrated and forgotten gem from Enix and developer Quintet showed off the visual and audio capabilities of the SNES in the early days of the console. You play as the “Master” who is tasked with building towns around the world and fending off the evils that threaten them. It’s hard to juggle two completely different genres like that, but ActRaiser finds a great balance.

The game was re-released for the Wii Virtual Console in 2007 but has otherwise been paid little attention in the years since its release. That’s unfortunate because there aren’t many games from 30 years ago that provide this much depth and versatility. Both parts of the experience are extremely solid in their own right, and together add up to become something truly special.

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7. Kirby Super Star

Even the most ardent Kirby fans would probably agree that the franchise can get a little stale at times. There are only so many ways Kirby can suck an enemy up, transform his powers to match theirs, and ultimately defeat King Dedede. That’s why Kirby Super Star is still arguably the best game that the pink cutie pie has ever starred in.

Featuring eight different games within the game, the genre-mixing in this one is really off the charts. There are racing elements, adventure tones, and shooting sequences amongst the different sections of the playthrough. The experience was so beloved that it was eventually remade for the Nintendo DS as Kirby Super Star Deluxe. There is something for everyone in this package, and it shows the best parts of Kirby’s history.

6. Mega Man X

The original run of NES Mega Man titles are arguably still more famous than all of the others, but Mega Man X just has more of what makes those games great. It retains the eight bosses and weapon upgrades that can be completed/acquired in whatever order the player chooses, and it even has that same incredible soundtrack that the Blue Bomber’s adventures are always famous for.

Mega Man X‘s graphical upgrades admittedly take some of that eight-bit nostalgia out of the experience, but the game ultimately makes up for it by offering new gameplay experiences. Jumping on walls and acquiring upgrades to defensive maneuvers gives Mega Man an even more badass skillset, and the game generally does an excellent job of emphasizing the “platforming” parts of its action-platformer mix.

5. Super Castlevania 4

Super Castlevania 4 is actually a kind of soft remake of the original game, and the developers at Konami did a great job of making that game more digestible for newcomers while keeping all of the iconic elements from the classic NES title.

The Castlevania basics are all here (you still control Simon Belmont, equipped with his famous whip and ax, and battle through the game’s 11 stages before reaching Dracula), but an ideal mix of combat and platforming makes this one of the most irreplaceable platformers in the SNES catalog. It’s still an airtight action-platformer experience in 2021.

4. Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy’s Kong Quest

The second game in the DKC trilogy took all of the best parts of the first title and refined them to create a truly unique platforming game that was a lot more than fancy graphics (a reputation the original game has had a hard time shaking). Diddy’s Kong Quest expanded upon the game design that fans loved while keeping the jungle hijinx, masterful soundtrack, and weighted platforming intact.

That last part is what truly separates the middle installment of this franchise from the other two. Many people have said that these games were sometimes more style than substance, but after playing through the myriad of environments on display in DKC 2, it becomes clear that this title has endured over the years because its tight mechanics are executed at a high level.

3. Super Metroid

If this list were just a ranking of 2D games or if it encapsulated the entire SNES library regardless of genre, Super Metroid would most likely take the top spot. Alas, this icon of game design settles in the third spot because it isn’t the best example of a “pure platformer.” It’s more of an action/adventure affair, though the game’s platforming elements are still as satisfying now as they were in the 1990s.

What separates this game from so many that have tried to emulate it in the nearly three decades since release is that every ability upgrade and every part of the map fits together with nearly flawless foresight and execution. It’s never a hassle to re-explore a section that you’ve already seen. The game has a masterful flow that is incredibly modern and perhaps even more popular today because of the prominence of this design style on the indie game scene.

2. Super Mario World

With its flawless controls, colorful sprites, cheerful soundtrack, and ageless platforming, Super Mario World is the title that all other 2D games in the genre are still compared to. The extra graphical power of the SNES gave Nintendo the opportunity to expand upon Super Mario Bros. 3‘s best ideas while exploring new concepts that simply weren’t possible before.

That is why this game remains so playable. Super Mario World combines the most enjoyable elements of the NES Super Mario classics and then elevates them to fully realize the world that Miyamoto imagined when this basic concept was created. It still doesn’t make sense to have a plumber jumping on top of turtles and occasionally getting lost inside of a house full of ghosts (those damn Boo mansions still haunt me), but when you combine this much creativity into one package, you have no choice but to admit how special it all is.

1. Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island

Shigeru Miyamoto and his team knew that it was futile to try and surpass Super Mario World simply by emulating it. So when developing the sequel, they made the decision to craft an entirely different type of platformer in which Mario isn’t even the main protagonist. The concept was bold, but the execution needed to be flawless if the game was ever going to be more than another disappointing follow-up.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

It’s safe to say Yoshi’s Island exceeded all expectations. Putting Yoshi at the forefront of a platformer that included mini-games, evasion, puzzle-solving, item collection, and the most timeless color palette in gaming history was brilliance personified. Yoshi’s Island is not as famous as its older sibling, but its daring creativity and irreplaceable charm have inspired many to argue that it is the better game in retrospect. Whatever your opinion is, the fun and escapism of the green dinosaur’s finest hour (as well as the horrors of Baby Mario’s screams) will be remembered until the end of gaming.

The post 15 Best SNES Platformers Ever appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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cluz1babe · 4 years

Text

A Poem Written by Cas and Your Response

Castiel didn't know how it came to him, but he'd learned that you loved to read and he knew he had to tell you exactly how he felt. When he shyly pushed the letter under your door, you hear it graze and sat up to see is someone was trying to come in. Frowning in confusion, you tilted your head and noticed the paper on the floor.

You got out of bed and opened it, surprised to recognize the handwriting and confused as to why it was so secretive it had been given to you in such a way. Then you began you read

You radiate beauty and purity You smell like innocence Before Like dirt when the Earth was new Like the water on that version of this planet Like that very same air before it was polluted

Your eyes are as deep as the ocean But they light up when the sun shines upon them And I can see the fire in them When they are hungry

Your skin is as soft as down Your arms wrapped around me once You feel warm and safe Like a place I want to burrow And call home The curves of your body Leave me wanting to touch I’ve found myself wondering if I could But dare not ask Should the request scare you away

I haven’t tasted you yet But I imagine your kisses Have a sweet and spicy flavor Like the red lollipops sold in convenience stores The taste of sweet cinnamon burning your tongue A pleasurable break From the norm

Your heartbeat sounds like ancient drums It can be calm and quiet when at rest But then loud and energizing Like drinking too much coffee Giving energy and excitement to a day off

Sometimes I think I cannot control my feelings around you I believe I am not even close To your equal I am not beautiful Like you I probably smell like ozone My countenance can seem Vacant much of the time Therefore, my eyes are Probably not as deep My skin may be soft, But I fear my arms Aren’t quite as inviting My lips I imagine kissing them Would only taste bitter I don’t think my heartbeat is Really mine What good is another’s heartbeat? I’m not very relatable My previous life didn’t allow me to experience all these things, not in the way you have

I wish I could experience this with you

I want to smell your sweat Mixed with mine On us Between us If our bodies are ever found in any position Together

I want to see you All of you Whatever you allow I want to learn every bend Every freckle Every muscle Relaxed under my touch

I want to feel you The way lovers do Fill you up Have you wrapped around me I fantasize what making you feel pleasure Does to your body - What sounds do you make?

I want to taste you In ways I never have Your tongue Your lips The core of you Whatever you want me to

I want to hear you Say my name With lust and exertion With love and devotion To find my ears Tell me what you like

Then I want us to change roles Repay each other All of those things Playful and lascivious Superficially sinful But in love

///////////////////////////

"I'm not a poet. Not nearly as good as you." You handed Castiel the paper it had taken you only five minutes to write in response to his beautiful poem. "You deserve something better, but at least it's something."

He smiled and took the letter, unfolding it to read.

You do smell like ozone, mostly. You also remind of buttercream frosting, Irish pipe tobacco, and puppy breath.

You look magnificent. Powerful, beautiful, adorable. I’ve seen the real you, and there’s nothing else like it. When you hold me I feel soft and sensitive. Vulnerable but strong. I imagine you taste like earl grey - earthy and real. Warm and comforting. You sound like the low rumble of thunder. Your voice drowns out the world. When you speak to me, I feel more confident. When you share with me, I feel special and important.

Yes, I want the same things. I think of the same things.

I want you to grab on to me and hold me close so I can smell you. I want to feel you inside and around me. I want to taste your skin. Kiss your nose. I want to hear your most explicit sounds and know all of your fantasies. I want to be submissive to your touch - I know it’s not what you expect of me - for us to be equals in a tangle of tantric love. Breathe with me. Hold that masculine, dominant element and take care of me. I want to be yours and you will be mine.

Castiel looked up at you, somewhat shocked.

"I told you. It's not as good--"

He immediately pulled you in for a kiss and you lost yourself in his embrace.

#strong tongue and slender fingers #castiel x reader #castiel/reader #castiel deserves better #castiel #cas #reader #reader insert #poem #poetry #supernatural #spn fanfiction #SPN #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #klee #kleena

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vellikvr · 4 years

Text

◇ Sempiternel Longing

Fallen Angel!Jimin x Human!Yoongi

Dynamic: Minyoon (slight sub yoongi)

Troubled college boy, Yoongi, finds a way to contact demons. In a deeply numb state of personal adversity, he conjures a fallen angel of surpassing beauty and mind. He supposes that the best time to feel will have to be in the hands of a tender, yet intimidating, black-winged immortal.

cw // implied existential crisis, implied homophobia, sexual innuendos, implied sacrilege (?), derogatories

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

[Part One]

“so, am I supposed to arrange some agreement?” Yoongi questions, watching the conjured immortal step around his cluttered, dark room. The space is now drenched in some sulfuric, deathly odor that makes Yoongi shiver in temporary unease.

“An agreement was already made, Yoongi,” the sultrious voice of the demoniacal echoes throughout the room. The creature leans against the wall, exposing the white collarbone. “You slit your skin to sacrifice a drop of blood. You’ve relinquished the privacy of your soul to me, and I’m now under a spiritual bond with you.”

He’s only become familiar with the practice only hours ago. He was given a ritualistic seance regarding demonic conjuring from one of his delinquent friends. The friend is a quiet consumer of the dark web markets, therefore such information could be accessed. Yoongi, overtaken by some flattened rationality, was sceptical and decided to take manners in his own hands. Guess his friend found the ritual by quite a reliable source.

“Were you in any way prepared?” the moral-torn angel chuckles menacingly.

“I wasn’t,” Yoongi admits.

“You didn’t have to say so, I could already tell.”

“Well then,” Yoongi decides to accept his fate, plopping his exhausted self on the bed. “What’s there to do with you?”

“I can only torture you, people get depleted of their sanity when around me.”

“Aren’t I already tortured in life? I’m sure you have some telepathy quirk so you must’ve figured my perspective,” He curls into his frail body, looking down at the raw, narrow gash through his pale skin. He pads it experimentally.

“I have a few quirks.”

“Mmh. spite me, then.”

The man makes his way, with subtle entitlement, to Yoongi. Yoongi had to sit up since a climbing adrenaline shakes his entire body alive. The satanic creature carries a corrupted smirk, “I’m a fallen angel— a diabolic immortal that broke all unspoken laws under my former holy God, and has been expelled from the righteous place. The seven deadly sins poisoned my once saintly blood until it became a murky black, swallowing any righteous light—

“I am a creature that can give you the unpleasantly pleasant experience of every single sin,” His unrepentant eyes are drowned in a gruesome liquid charcoal like it was made to pollute what it gazes upon. Yoongi’s reflection is all it defines, at this very moment. “I can give you hell, but like falling victim to temptation, it’ll feel temporarily heavenly.”

Yoongi can’t help but wonder all the ways sin can appear. For this demon, it’s exhibited in the black leather attire that exposes the erotically sharp collarbone, the plump lips that curl into a defiled leer, the feline eyes that only radiate crooked temptation. He is—truly—the embodiment of sin in Yoongi’s eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Jimin,” he chuckles. “That’s all you wonder about me?”

“I really don’t care,” Yoongi lays back down and appears content rather than terrified. “I’m an individual of no morals, I’m an atheist as well.”

“Well that honors you dignity,” sarcasm drips from the demon's lips.

“It doesn’t, I’m slowly rotting in this empty place. Might as well have an audience. or someone to bring an artificial heaven to me.”

“What’s brought you to this resolution?”

Yoongi spreads his legs to stretch, and almost in a vulgar impression. “I’m a sinner, as well, I’ve fallen hopelessly victim to the lustful temptations of sex”

“Sex is natural, mere human,” Jimin scoffs.

“But I’ve let people in my bed, and I only experience the raw complications of my attraction. I draw to lust and cravings, but let there be guilt and sorrow that comes after…for I’ve let men touch me, and I’ve let them fuck me into a black desolation. It’s so good that blinking stars capture my vision for an amount of pleasurable time after I release,” Yoongi tilts his head back, showing the expanse of his neck. Jimin’s eyes draw forward at the other’s lovely facade. “I’m intoxicated by the masculine hands of a stranger, forcing me down and making me beg until depraved tears fall.

“My room still echoes reminiscent moans and cries,” Yoongi smirks. “It defines me, yet it draws me to a complicated blur, I’m guilty but will never beg forgiveness or break such a habit. It’s an addiction to feel. I might as well experience sin until my body numbs, since I don’t deserve remission under your former God,” Yoongi rubs his hands with an empty stare towards Jimin’s frown.

“You’re so depressing.”

“Thanks.”

“Heaven would spit at you,” Jimin chuckles darkly.

“I already figured, though I have no intention of crossing their gates.”

“Unfortunate how your words spite your own emotions. Men are a true gift to the world, I can admit.”

Yoongi closes his thighs together, thinking about being happily destroyed by a stranger for another night.

“They are,” he nearly moans. Jimin gets taken back by Yoongi’s transparency. He looks deliciously vulnerable to him, sprawled on his bed arching his back. No problem with the scarce protection of himself nor the diminishing sanity when sin chains him tightly. He’s a human with nothing left to drag him forward.

“My sad baby,” Jimin sweet talks. “It’s okay to be attracted to men. Men have a delectable body, personally speaking.”

“That speaks volume coming from you.”

“Fair enough, but when I tell you that it’s lovely to feel a man, I’m serious.”

Moonlight spills through the blinds, light stripes paint Yoongi’s button up shirt, but it also exposes the drained but lewd eyes of the human.

“‘Lovely’— not something I could describe really anything in my life.”

“Elaborate,” Jimin occupies his focus to Yoongi’s plants; they’re fairly well-maintained.

“Love is nothing but mere false hope,” Yoongi mumbles. “False hope that life is worth it when you fall into an intimate connection with another person. I’ve never experienced love, as you may tell by my pessimistic aspect.”

“Love and affection is life’s gratification for a mortal’s will to exist.”

“A luxury, that is,” Yoongi eyes the deathly figure sitting on the bed. The mattress dips, therefore solidifying the fact that he exists and not just a fantasy in Yoongi’s head. Jimin is incredibly attractive for a hell-bound demoniacal, it gives Yoongi an excuse for this growing desire in his chest.

“I’m deprived of love,” he finishes, trying to find that singular cue from the creature. He suddenly urges his legs together again to relieve some tension.

Jimin crawls toward the other with lidded eyes, giving an improper appearance of something vulgar but intentive, throwing Yoongi off. The innocently feline eyes barely masquerade the coarsely salacious manners that inhabit the male like an inner, quiet flame. The leather garment on his upper body drapes low to reveal a rugged chest.

“My Yoongi is lonely?” Jimin mutters under his rough throat, it voices a ripple effect in Yoongi’s veins.

Jimin couldn’t be any more attentive to Yoongi than now. The human looks like a doll in his loose wear, it reveals soft milky skin, and he’s now trembling as Jimin inches closer. Confidence seems like a false hope as much as Yoongi’s perception of love.

“I can give you love.”

Air thickens, Yoongi could barely catch a breath of obstinance in his attempted repression towards the demon. He instead feels an urge to yield to the other; he wants to experience yielding to Jimin’s seductive eyes—which is giving Yoongi whiplash. He gulps hard, swallowing really nothing.

“Yoongi looks troubled.”

“Don’t act innocent, your innocence is of mere blasphemy.” Yoongi spits, leaning back as Jimin proceeds toward him.

“‘Course you say that, and you’re right—I’m nothing innocent, but a dirty tease. I can play my way into one’s heart, and leave them crying for repentance.”

Yoongi feels so enthralled in Jimin’s attitude that rationality hits against his own temptations. Half of his thoughts are at conflict with the other.

“But you’re a little different. I play with pure souls like a game. You’re broken beyond repair. Nothing I can do but make you forget the pain.

“Plus, personally, I do find you so attractive, that it's boggling to hear you are neglected of affection,” Jimin quickly adds, sounding rather informal.

“Then do it,” Yoongi blurts.

“Do what,” Jimin smirks, knowing exactly what Yoongi demands. His claws reach out to curl Yoongi’s hair behind his ear, then strokes his cheek very lightly. The sharp claws grazing his skin sends a daring chill down his spine. He forces his eyes shut before they give away the temptations before he speaks them.

“Make me forget. I might as well experience the pleasures before I numb my way towards the end.”

“My human seems quite needy?” Jimin pursues, combing Yoongi’s hair back and lightly pushing him flat on the mattress. A huff of the human’s breath is heard clearly through the pointy ears of the demon.

“I am, should I remind you of why I never repent?” Yoongi inhales sharply when the body climbs on top of him, one thigh forcing itself between his own. Heaven won’t ever forgive him now.

“Nope, it still rings in my mind,” Jimin leers, leaning down to gently peck Yoongi’s cheek before padding the ear lobe. “Proud sinners arouse me, especially those that don’t believe in such things like demons. You must be terrified.”

Yoongi exhales a soft moan, hiking his hips up to join his crotch with Jimin’s own, but it was solely to feel the friction made from Jimin’s bulging thighs. “The—there’s no use to be terrified when we are living in a world of theory and approximation. Theory is just a falsification to maintain our sanity as people. Hell, we are just trying to be humans everyday despite an inescapable death approaching with no true, palpable understanding of its substance. I tried to believe that I was gonna reincarnate as a stray cat, but that’s just a distortion to comfort myself.”

“What’s your point now?” Jimin’s sharp index finger presses a slight indent on Yoongi’s bottom lip, dragging it down until it pops back up to its place.

“I don’t care anymore,” Yoongi mutters. “I have accepted that we just don’t know. I’m not even gonna be terrified of the inevitable truths. I’d rather not accept lies. So you shouldn’t be a thing that defies logic, cause we have no absolute logic.”

“I’ll make you afraid,” Jimin smiles tenderly but it barely disguises the wicked charm that’s magnetizing.

Yoongi huffs, finally sharing a smile of enticement. What’s there to lose?

“Make me terrified, demon.”

#minyoon #minyoon au #yoonmin #yoonmin au #jimin #yoongi #park #min #bts #my writing #one shot #when you just looked up sacrilege #hell looks pretty okay???#my attempt at being a writer lol

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vanelyreborn · 4 years

Text

(written Sunday, June 7)

What does a writer write when there is such conflict between the seemingly dire need to create and the utter lack of any solid prompt? There is no clarity my mood. I have been in such a hollow, sunken place in my head lately. Especially today. Awkwardly burdened by unpredictable, involuntary spells of dread-like negative emotion. Crying in view of anyone is so humiliating. I have no interest in or patience for the shame of self-pity or the condescending attention associated with pity from others. The whole world is in a state of chaos right now and no one wants to be bothered with a cashier who's drama followed her to work like a parasite and has her fake smiling through salt water filled eyes. And I have zero clarity when trying to define a rational cause for my ridiculous gloom. There's something wrong with me besides the obvious. There's a lengthy archive of valid reasons that I might feel broken or drained of the motivation to keep fighting present in my life right now. But I have, not only an awareness that bigger things have tried to shatter me and failed, but also a strength to stifle the impulse to let adversity pollute my conviction. Beyond that, I have Andrew fiercely encouraging me to resist the temptation to give up.

Whatever this is seems so much heavier. I feel consumed by this. And the confusion over the source is just feeding my fear of it. I'm back in that dark place again. I'm not delusional enough to deny the venom within that darkness. But in the past, it has always held me close and given me consent to collapse and wallow in a lack of regard. It presents itself as charming and makes forsaking my survival instincts look like a comforting embrace. It beckons me when I'm weak like this. It mimics the night that I adore so much and seems so genuine in it's attempt to convince me that what weighs me down is not the curse that plagues me, but the energy I spend on optimism, the effort I make to ignore the curse, and my naive confidence that tenacity's reward is certain.

In the dark I feel enabled to yield to a theory claiming that my prize will be attainable if I simply let go of my supposedly misguided will to fight for it and allow everything to crumble so that I may rebuild from the debris. Conditioning tells me that I should be offended by this romanticized fantasy of a Phoenix allowing itself to burn for the sake of an awakening or renewal because it's such an unrealistic, easy way out disguised as a solution. I'm blindly accustomed to resisting such inflated promises and I didn't come this far to only go this far. What if every ounce of courage that I've been able to conjure is wasted on my fire? Will I simply burn and lose everything?

But what if my perspective is blinding me? What if the darkness is not dark at all and my light is waiting on the other side of the flame?

I'm already aware that I've been trudging through another majick mirror passage in which my main goal is to self clarify what has always defined and shaped the true me and sever my attachment to things I clung to based on opinions or identities of others. How can I know that my eager attempt to take a structured, disciplined route is not based on someone else's ideal path? How do I know that my goal of avoiding a stubborn approach wasn't what was deceiving me, leaving me trapped in the ironic epitome of that stubbornness? If the darkness was the scapegoat then I have been shunning my own redemption. It's highly likely that the so-called venom within the shadows is there by my doing. I may just need to take responsibility for my foolish stockholm-like dependence on the roller coaster of theatrics parading as evolution fuel.

But how do I now sieze this faint but highly valued gift of clairity? To deliberately self-destruct would crush and insult all collective effort made. Focus must be on the renewal not on the fire that made way for it. To forget that will mean all was done in vain and I'd rather let the flames reduce me to hot cinders permanently than take the toxicity of fraud into my life's next level. How do I surrender obediently to a blaze I had convinced myself to avoid for fear of my own demise? How can I erase the belief that being consumed will be my end and replace it with faith that I will instead be cleansed? How can I idle calmly on the balance between letting go and trusting that there will be a solid place to stand when the fire has subsided? How can I know that the cinders won't betray me and leave me in the dark?

I won't have these answers until I decide which theory to trust and leap for the one I choose. But I do have complete confidence in the mirror gate process. Having to face the worst, most toxic parts of who I am to my core and holding myself accountable has always been a kind of cleansing ritual that, incidentally emulates that of a Phoenix fire. I'll simply have to let myself be guided by the comfort of familiarity in that.

From numb to new? .... I'll take it.

#my writing #my work #my dream #lyrics limericks lillianisms and so called poetry by lillian vanely #journal entry #vainlylillian #lillianbeltonjones #vanelyreborn

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whetstonefires · 4 years

Note

"the top three of its forty floors are filled with brass telescopes of every size, pointing in every possible direction, including several that do not exist within the normal three dimensions of space." thats SUCH a cool image / "If any harvest will come." ooh i wonder whats going on / "The roofs are of red tile, the stucco of the houses painted in shades of blue. It stands empty, but has not had time to fall into disrepair." the little bits of detail getting added to the picture im LOVE (1/?)

I’m gonna do these all as one post but broken up for ease of reference, I think.

Thank you! 🥰 Deciding the theme for the Tower and giving it that visual anchor really helped to pull things together. If you consider the whole setup, it seems unlikely the Tower was originally built as an observatory, since those tend to benefit from height (especially if you’re looking around you rather than up, but for the up ones also) and the builders could easily have put it on top of a mountain or at least some hills, but instead put it by the river. It’s above sea level, and it’s away from light pollution, but there were better locations. Nearby.

So either it wasn’t an observatory, and it’s been refitted as one, or they had so many observatories they didn’t care about locating them optimally, there was some other factor making having the tower there important even if it was suboptimal in terms of observation capacity. Or, potentially, it’s been moved since it was built!

:} Yay thank for being interested by the foreshadowing. I tried to put just enough in without actively overshadowing the actual place-setting-up and making the reader impatient with the description.

"If you look through an enchanted telescope you may see trees without needles fail halfway up the nearest of the great peaks, and even these fail before the top, though there is a span of nearly barren stone past that line, before the snow begins." you: mentions different plants living in different climates me: :0 / there's so much good description!! its all so pretty!! (2/?)

sflka;l;jlk i mean yeah, that’s pretty straightforward isn’t it. But! It establishes How Much Mountain it is visually rather than by saying ‘it was a big fucking mountain’ or ‘it was tall enough for the thinness of atmosphere near the top to create a small tundra region.’

o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

<3 Thank you! I kinda cut loose lmao.

"blocks veined with every color, pale blues and purples, reds and greens and golden-duns all mottling toward white and grey and black" god i want to live there so badly!! this tower is meeting all my standards!! cool pretty magic tower with rad telescopes!!! / "make a remark no one present understands about a Doctor named Seuss. His guide, the dousing tracker Amnaphi, will assume this person to be a famous astronomer from his homeland." im love!! misunderstandings about references!! (?/?)

💗💖✨ Yay! That’s an important feeling to create in fantasy, imo. The wanting.

I really enjoyed playing with the standard forms for ‘thing made of marble’ here, because all these marbles really exist, but in spite of the existence of the word ‘marbled’ our narrative uses of it tend to be tied up with Neoclassical aesthetics. So very white and smooth, yeah?

Also idk if it’s obvious to the reader but this Tower is to some degree in dialogue with Orthanc, which made a great impression on my mind as a child as the iconic wizardly tower, and while I don’t disagree with any of Tolkien’s use of symbolism for the purposes he was deploying it, there’s so much potential in Isengard as a setting that LotR had no space to explore, even if Tolkien would have noticed those angles at all.

Like...the parkland around the Tower is shown being despoiled for the orcish war machine and then reconquered by the forest, but of course it wasn’t forest to begin with. What was it for before Saruman lost his shit? Ordered gardens, for peaceful contemplation? Who dedicated the space that way? Who maintained it?

Did Saruman employ a gardener? Did he design his own gardens, or did they come with the keep, which we’re informed was built not by him but by the Numenoreans?

(“I liked white better” is still one of the greatest lines in a fantasy novel, Tolkien does not get enough credit for his contextually hilarious one-liners that rely on pointed code-switching, but Saruman’s evil rainbow oil-slick robes also sounded really baller and it’s kind of a shame they were not attempted for the movie lol.)

The fact that this is a world designed around a kid getting portal-fantasied into it and staying for 30 years really gives me some options which are fun to deploy but also like. Risky lmao. Because it encourages the reader to surface from the setting-logic and apply their own perspective, which can really break up the magic.

Being able to zoom out on the Tower after all that detail and be like ‘it’s awesome but also it looks like something Doctor Seuss would draw’ was fun though.

"Within the even hexagon of its outer wall, the Tower encloses a great parkland, enough that if it was all put under cultivation it could easily feed as many people as could live in the Tower itself." the tower has PLANTS i love it so much / "Ten Years’ Winter" god PLEASE tell me this is going to get into the agriculture and society stuff game of thrones didn't about long winters that would be SO cool / "Watchers of the Stars" AND they have a cool name holy shit (?/?)

Plants are important! As is food supply. As everyone who’s been reading this blog for a while already knows I think lol.

I mean, it’s not about that, really? The Ten Years’ Winter is a historical event--the most recent meteor impact severe enough to have global climate fallout. The dust it kicked up took a while to settle, and the famines were pretty severe.

But the cultural consequences of something that happened a hundred and fifty years ago exist, and are important, including the relationship between governance and disaster preparedness, which varies a lot regionally as you may imagine.

Astronomy has a long history as a wizardly sort of activity in the real world, both because it’s had continual overlap with astrology and just because the process has always been mystical and abstruse. In this setting, with a history of both devastating meteor impacts and being invaded from the Moon, but also actual magic, it’s got more obvious practical importance. Although since neither of these are remotely everyday occurrences, the average person on the street might not agree lol.

So it’s on the one hand a purely descriptive title, and on the other hand a serious boast, suggesting as it does that they are primarily responsible for Watching The Sky For Stuff. While also having broader philosophical implications and just sounding nice lol.

You gotta have good marketing if you want to persist as a wizardly order, because if talented students aren’t motivated to come to you how will you gain new members? Natural replacement is not an ideal strategy to say the least. That’s how you turn into a cult instead of an intellectual powerhouse.

"The northern third of the Tower’s park contains neatly regimented orchards, apples, pears, plums, and a few rows of carefully tended peaches and apricots, all clipped flat against low brick walls angled south and slightly west." hhh t r e e s / "wizards, while enthusiastic about innovation in the abstract, hate change." me too, wizards. me too / "The Tower grounds are filled with refugees." ooh now we get to why everything was empty earlier (?/?)

Trees! Which are also food!

And technology lol. Greenhouses built against fruit walls with good insulation are so much more sensible than ones heated from inside. Obviously as a passive solar-powered technology these only work when the sun is available and not, for example, cut off by a giant dust cloud.

These people are fairly acutely aware of their dependence on the sun and it figures prominently in a majority of their religions and their magical theory, even more than in ours.

There seems to be a mild consensus that the wizards are relatable. In truth: we are all wizards. :D

Yup! At long last lol.

"This division corresponds imperfectly to the usual split of the town by the course of the Meroda." because people!! take comfort!! in what normalcy they can find!! / "Makeshift pallets line the spaces between every fruit wall—the injured are being laid out here, now that the Tower is full, to get the benefit at night of the warmth meant to mature fruit." the awesome magic tower people trying to do everything they can for the injured who come to them for help in case i thought i couldn't be (?)

more in love / "Half of them are making ready to turn south along the Meroda." oh nooooo / "but the Moon People are the successors of the ancient magics, and just because they could not break the walls the last time they came, according to legend, does not mean they have not worked out a method now." im so worried for the people oh no (?)

Yeah! It really seemed natural. But of course they also aren’t recreating it obsessively; lots of people are grouping up with relatives who normally live across the river, or with people in the same line of work on the river, because people also adapt to circumstances.

No institution is ever perfect, of course, but I’m glad the Watchers have come across this way so far. They’re broadly well-intentioned and mostly well-organized.

And they were not ready for this.

A significant fraction of the reason for the order of the Watchers to exist at all, particularly in this observatory with its great eye fixed ever on the face of the green moon, is to be able to warn the world if this ever happens again. But the Moon People knew they were being watched, this time, and they kept all the build-up to mobilization that might have given them away on the far side of the moon until the last minute.

What the Magister is doing, as I hope was made clear or at least successfully indicated--I wish your commentary on the ending had come through!--is summoning what turns out to be an actual child from another world to do hero stuff.

Even if he’d gotten an adult that would be kidnapping someone to help with your problems, a routine element of the portal fantasy whose ethics have been addressed in a variety of ways, most famously ‘is Lion Jesus and always right.’

The reason they need a hero from another world is that the Moon People build a lot of their wards and their offensive and disabling magical attacks around a targeting system based on what planet people are from, because even though they’re originally from the same stock--they’re the descendants of ancient moon colonists who evacuated ahead of a major meteor impact somewhere approaching four thousand years ago--on a magical level having been born and raised on the planet or the moon makes a pretty huge difference.

So no one can get into the place their magic space elevator is anchored and fuck it up so they can’t keep bringing troops and supply in and loot out. Their single supply line is their only strategic weakness, and they’ve taken appropriate precautions.

Getting someone in from a third location is the best idea anyone’s been able to come up with in the very limited time available. Since no one can figure out how to turn one of the Moon People against the cause they came here for, on short notice, when they aren’t even stopping to talk to anyone so far. Like, that’s clearly not going to happen.

Heron Yl Fanult isn’t unaware that it’s ethically questionable, but he’s doing it anyway.

So I’m glad the ominous imminent oncoming of the Moon People can really be felt, because that atmosphere is fairly essential context for the decisionmaking going on at the top of the Tower.

"Young wizards sit in their bunks, six each to rooms that were previously individual, and hold lighting cupped dancing in their palms." a quick break from being worried to point out that this is rad as hell / "some with their heads decorously covered..." cultural differences!! especially with regional purposes like the Hedro!!

Thank you! 😆💖 I thought so too lol.

It also establishes the parameters of the magic system a little more. Throwing lightning bolts is pretty iconicly high-powered, right? And here it’s what most of the student wizards are practicing in anticipation of a battle, because most of them aren’t specced into combat and this is actually one of the easier lethal spells to master, especially if you have an academic background.

‘Electrocute’ isn’t a very flexible spell and it’s easy to lose control of, but it’s actually easier than, say, ‘set on fire to a significant degree in a non-electrical manner’ because concentrating a lot of heat in a certain location takes a lot more brute force than encouraging ionization.

You can pull most of the actual destructive force for the palm lightning spell out of the physical air and/or earth if you grasp the principles, which is much easier than channeling a comparable amount of magic directly because it doesn’t have to go through you.

The limiting factors on magic in this setting are how much power you can tap into and how much of it you can actually use without hurting or killing yourself. It’s not usually a lot, though the amount can be increased by things like choosing your workspace, prepping your workspace, and a whole lot of practice and meditation and things like that.

Magical traditions that get bundled under the heading of wizardry tend to focus on force multiplication, obtaining enough contextual understanding of a subject to make whatever power is applied go further. This means a lot of studying theory and using magic to make observations (such as the existence of microorganisms and their connection to disease) and often results in making clever devices based on what you’ve learned that may not actually wind up being magical at all.

Which is why the solar greenhouse proposal is considered ‘more wizardly’ than the fruit walls, which are wizardly in the first place even though the technology is pretty widespread at this point--it’s carried the principle of minimizing the energy you have to invest to get the result you want to the logical conclusion, where you don’t have to do any magic at all, you just set up the situation and get out of the way and the sun will do the work for you.

Other schools of magic, particularly religious ones, are more likely to emphasize just getting better at handling energy for yourself, which tends to yield a lot more in the way of immediate practical dividends and in a lot of quarters wizards who don’t do something obviously practical like physic or smithcraft with their theoretical background are considered crackpots or dilettantes

An impression helped along by the fact that being taken on as a student of wizardry at a basic level tends to focus more on your reading comprehension than your ability to actually do any magic, so in places where religious and wizardly institutions coexist the most talented students have a tendency to gravitate toward the religious life. This is particularly marked in areas religiously dominated by the Compact of the Golden Circle, wherein full ordination is contingent on being able to pull off certain fairly hefty rituals, so if you aren’t physically or mentally up to that kind of magical heavy lifting your religious career will stall out in one of the lay fraternities. In some of the cities on Sutouchel, the landmass to the southeast where the Compact is based, a slang term for wizard is ‘sanctum washout.’

But of course force multiplication is something that can scale up pretty far, and studying theory doesn’t stop you from also putting work into your practical skills, and not having talent isn’t the only reason someone would choose not to seek out a clerical career, if it’s even an option. Religion along the Meroda is pretty localized; communities tend to have local deities who correspond to a natural feature like the nearest mountain or the river or something, and if that deity rates a fulltime shrine the keeper also tends to be the major local medical provider, and since the wizards got settled in at the Tower it’s become pretty popular for shrinekeeping families to send their kids there for a year or two to get some educational polish in addition to what their parent already emphasized.

So depending on where you live and what your personal experience has been you’re going to have very different ideas about what wizards are good for.

Hrm. I’ve gone on a tangent. But that wound up taking so long you came back! :D I love it when being turtle works out in my favor.

Or was this actually the meta I was supposed to be doing in the first place? Aaaaa who knows.

im fairly confident you said eight asks survived so this is number nine? anyways onwards! "The hale survivors of the First Battle of the Second Descent sit waiting in their leathers, jack-chains and helmets laughably inadequate armor against the coming danger, and yet the best hope now just as they were on Carun Tol once the wizard fell" i have a lot of emotions about how their best bet is also a terrible bet but its all they have (9/?)

Yes 8.

Woo, thank you! ^^ & I love that you described it that way because that also describes the ‘summon alien’ spell Yl Fanult is casting and echoing the same emotional theme throughout the scene was very much the goal here.

"Threads have escaped from the braids pinned across the top of her skull: she has not had the chance to take them down for two days." god just the continuation of how desperate everything is / "He leans forward to peer through the narrow glass that has been turned on its articulated base to face the middle of the room, and relaxes very slightly. At least there has been no catastrophic alteration there, either." what does that one do id assume theres no approching army in the middle of the room -

:D Yeah, the fact that one of the chief medics available is already overworked to the point of neglecting nonessential personal hygiene and the enemy isn’t even here yet I hoped would resonate.

Well, remember how some of the telescopes at the beginning point in directions not included in the normal three dimensions of space? :}

- "trained as it long has been upon the face of the moon" also forgot to mention their enemies being from the moon is Rad As Hell / "He snaps his fingers for a spark that falls into the deep circular groove full of distilled spirits, and steps through that as well. He is not burned." ooooh whats he doing / "At his feet lie a glittering piece of gold ore, a moonstone, and a carefully sanded round of pumice." i see the connection to the moonstone bc moon army but i wonder about the others -

Thank you! It took a fair amount of poking before I decided it was a solid approach; it provides just enough physical alienation that there’s no direct cultural relationship and you can have that ‘everyone in the entire world Disliked That’ vibe, without needing to create any complicated magical and cultural explanation for such a long run of isolationism. They were out of contact because they were On The Moon.

Also I really get a kick out of putting space invaders in a fantasy setting in a way that stops just short of turning into sci-fi.

I’m glad the ritual lead-up is exciting! Even if the foreshadowing wasn’t as obvious as I thought it was lol. That’s fixable.

Gold is for the sun, moonstone is yeah for the moon lol (although in other circumstances people also use jade, because it’s been a long time since the moon was uniformly silver on account of it having been terraformed a few thousand years ago) and pumice is for the world--it’s a stone full of air that floats on water, so it’s popular as an anchoring device for rituals that call on all three local celestial bodies.

"He cannot take much time. He has only until the ring of fire dies." whats he doingggggg / anyways i love this so much!! the descriptions are gorgeous and im so invested in all of everything!! i hope you write more im so curious about it all!!

XD Ok I covered this already, I would have saved it for down here or Been Mysterious if tumblr hadn’t eaten the last few asks the first time lol. Thank you so much again! For encouragement! Before and now! I’ll try! To keep it going!

Here’s hoping this successfully posts, tumblr just kicked me onto New Dashboard again and disabled the turn-it-off button, so now my alternate posting strategy is borked up too. 🤞😅😘

#hoc est meum #ask #worldbuilding #a nonny mouse #the tower of sight #people say nice things #long post #<3

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seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana · 4 years

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@megatraven

I’m at my grandmas bc I gotta stay the night with her and I’ve been thinking of some Thr Girl in The Blue Dress headcannons for Apollo and Rose and Melodyyy and other characters bc why not. So,,,here we go dnwbsb.

Apollo is an awkward person. Yes, he’s a God that is more powerful than mortals, can demand his way into anything...yet he is awkward as HELL. I just think of him as being anxious and a little awkward around people. The baby just wants to play his harp (and other instruments) in peace to others who will listen.

Apollo likes when people run their hands through his hair. He finds the action comforting and, depending on the person, makes him fall asleep instantly. It’s just so soothing to him and helps him so much.

Apollo doesn’t like singing too much, but he can if someone he cares for asked him too. Like, if Aphrodite (someone who comforts him so much when Rose dies in every timeline) wanted him to sing with her or sing something for her while playing, he would do it. And he’ll sing anytime for Rose. He may not be the best singer, but songs that need a lot of humming or only need low vocals, he can do for people.

Apollo may be a little harsh sometimes, but he does mean well. He sucks at explaining his emotions, but likes to try. And most of the time it’s only to Rose or Melody (Roses mom), so they usually understand it.

Apollo doesn’t always use his god powers when on the surface. He actually made a rule to himself to not use them when just helping people or living down there. The only times he uses them is when he’s in a dire situation or needs to save someone. That’s it. Other than that, he plays human.

Apollo isnt always smart. Especially, on the surface. He needs things to be explained to him and isn’t afraid to ask for help. He knows many gods are too prideful to ask for help or refuse to even ask the humans anything, but he isn’t. He likes to learn things and will take any chance to learn anything he can with the right help and guidance. He gets a little shine in his eye when he learns something new.

Rose likes to stay places, but she also wants to travel the world. Well, not live there, but just go there. She wants to see different cultures, see what it’s like living there, taste the food, and just experience everything.

Rose likes normal life. Having kids, going to work, waving kids goodbye while they go to school or hang out with friends, but she does like a little danger and spice in her life ;).

Rose loves singing. Whether it be in English, Greek, French, or whatever language. She wants to learn how to sing the song and would love to sing it. She sings while brushing her hair, in the shower, or when she’s alone doing some work.

Rose likes to make fun of the gods a little. If someone says something about Poseidon she’ll be like, “I CONTROL THE LOBSTERS!” If someone says something about Hades and how he controls when people die, she corrects them and is like “I control dead not the die!” She likes Aphrodite the most because of Love™️.

If she knew Apollo was a god in each timeline, she’d be asking him a lot of questions. Saying “Oh, how high is it up there? Can you hear us at all? Can I meet the other Gods? Are Pegasi really cute? CAN I FLY ON ONE?” Shes just rlly excited and curious,,,

Melody’s husband actually just left her and Rose. He left when Rose was born. He said he wasn’t made for fatherhood, but Melody believes he was just a little scared and worried he wouldn’t be a good father, so he just left. However, not knowing that that only made things worse. Melody told Rose that he died,,,trying not to hurt her with the truth...

Lucas and Rose would sneak out together sometimes. They’d go to the forest and play tag, hide and seek, or swim in the lake. Since pollution, wasn’t too bad (I think-) back then, the river was a little bit cleaner and actually shined, so they loved to go swimming. Even if their parents would get angry at them for sneaking out. Yes Rose can be a bit of a rule breaker sometimes

Vanessa and Rose were really close because both enjoyed helping people. Vanessa May have been a little more shy, but she did love helping people. She liked making fun of Mr. Sanchez’s mustache (he has one lol).

Both Rose and Vanessa are good and fast learners. It runs in the family.

Vanessa saw Apollo a few times and she really liked him. When she was dying, she wanted to hear him sing for her because she liked the way his voice sounded when he read her stories sometimes. Apollo cried when he heard that because it was so wholesome and he couldn’t help but honor that request and sing for her until his throat hurt.

Vanessa makes fun of Roses singing. Even when she’s dead, she makes fun of Rose because she’s her sister. It’s her job to make fun of her >:). You’ll see how she makes fun of her later

Lucas used to make fun of Rose for everything. Everyone thought Lucas was actually bullying her, but when someone else said something about her, he was aggressive and told them to stop immediately. Aggressive boi👀.

Rose would actually like to know Hades, the God of Death. She’s just interested in how things happen. Like, “do people know where to go when they die? Do you control when we die? Is Hermès nice? Is Hermès patient? What do we see when we die? Is it just darkness and then a random light, or is it something else?” She’d ask so many questions. AND about creatures that Hades has made/forced to make (like the furries in Hades season 1 in ALK. Not saying the Furries are real bc idk, but I mean like that situation). She’s just so interested in creepy things and wants to know what to expect when she dies. Not knowing that she won’t know what that feels like when she does die

The creature from the Underworld that cursed Rose and her mother in the first place, cursed her mom just to bring a little more suffering to Rose. They knew that Rose hated hurting others, so knowing that her mother was dragged down with her into this mess, it would ruin Rose.

The creatures name is “Lumie” bc their appearance (in my head) is based upon a girl named Lumina from the game Lighting Returns (a final fantasy game and it’s SO good but play Final Fantasy 13 and Final Fantasy 13-2 first to understand things...I think it’s 13-). This is what Lumina (and Lumie) look like and sound like and I always think of her and her voice when I think of the creature. And she’s adorable which makes it worse lol.

Okay that’s all I can think of for right now. Hope you liked this and found these interesting and I might think of more while I’m here👀👀

#yEAHHHH #I like these headcannons a little bit lolll #my writing #The Girl in The Blue Dress #heheh hope you like them #and the sad ones lol #I love the sad ones and the normal ones #I have more #but I cant show them right now bc likeeee #the other lives need to happen first #👀👀👀

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mischiefiswritten · 6 years

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Worldbuilding with Psychology

I haven't mentioned this before, but I'm close to graduating with a psychology degree. As I was organizing things to move back in at university, I came across some notes from my Developmental Psych class. Psychologist Urie Bronfenbrenner presented an ecological systems model of child development, which represents a dynamic model of how people develop psychologically depending on their environment. I realized this may be an interesting reference for writers as we consider worldbuilding.

The individual is at the center. Each level interacts with the others and may affect them in different ways and to different degrees at different times. The individual is at the center of the model and has inherent traits which are the result of genetics. The microsystem is the individual's most immediate surroundings. These are the places and people they come into close contact with on a daily basis, including the home and peer groups. The way microsystems treat the individual influence them, but the behavior of the individual also influences how the microsystems react to them. The mesosystem is essentially comprised of links between microsystems - between home and school, between home and church, between family and peers. Active involvement between microsystems promotes harmony and a sense of like-mindedness. The exosystem consists of linkages between systems that do not directly influence the individual, but do so indirectly by influencing a microsystem. For instance, the parents' workplaces influences the parents' behavior in the presence of the individual. The macrosystem consists of more distant influences that still have a significant impact on the individual. These elements often include beliefs, values, and other aspects of culture. For instance, life in a country at war will influence an individual differently than life in a country at peace. The chronosystem simply incorporates the meaningful passage of time. What is in each system, how much it affects an individual, and how can all shift in time.

What does this have to do with worldbuilding?

One can relate Bronfenbrenner's model to creating a fictional sense of place however one likes, but I've drawn some parallels between each level and a corresponding element in worldbuilding. The model looks something like this.

The Protagonist:

The main character (or characters) lies at the center of your worldbuilding. It is through their eyes, or over their shoulder, that the reader experiences the world in which your story is set. A strong sense of place is vital to telling a satisfying tale, and a great deal of it comes down to your protagonists. Like in the original model, the protagonist has certain inborn traits that are a result of nature, but are also influenced by nurture - the other systems, in this case. The world is reflected in the hearts, minds, and behaviors of the people who live in it, and the people are reflected in the world they populate.

The Supporting Cast:

These are the people the protagonists interacts with most, and it's a two-way street of influence. Their behavior influences the protagonist, but the protagonist affects them as well. You can present a great deal of information about the world through the interactions between characters. The way your protagonist interacts with parents and siblings can reveal family structure and dynamics, and interactions with friends or coworkers can shine light on social classes, pastimes, or employment. What your characters do, how they do it, and how they speak or feel about it will reveal what is normal or not.

The Immediate Surroundings:

Where are all these interactions taking place? The actual physical locales in seen in your story have an impact on the way people behave, but don't forget the direct effect of setting the scene. One behaves differently at school, as opposed to the mall - how can you use differences like this to portray societal norms and mores in your story? Additionally, the events and values of a world leave physical reminders, which may be as simple as smog over a city unconcerned by or incapable of controlling pollution. Perhaps there is graffiti in the streets leftover from social or political unrest. The remnants of a torn-down shrine or monument may reflect changing values, war, or persecution of certain religions or other groups. Living conditions can portray class differences. Possibilities are endless.

The Social Structure and Culture:

Social structure has ramifications on who can interact with whom and what's considered appropriate. These rules may be very strict or much more informal. If there are rigorous separations in place according to class, an interaction between members of different status will be shocking to your characters. Speaking out against an elder coworker may have severe consequences, or employees may be under forced retirement deadlines - these differences reveal if old age is revered or looked down upon. What holidays do people celebrate, and how? What manners of speech or behavior are unique to the setting? Social norms will be reflected in the behavior of your characters, but the population is capable of changing those norms.

The Physical Setting:

The setting at large still has far-reaching influence on your story. The geography itself will determine a number of things about the setting, including the landscape, weather, physical resources available, methods of transportation and more. All of these things trickle down into each of the layers beneath it and leave their fingerprints. If transportation is unfavorable, how does this affect information and cultural exchange? How about the economy? The physical setting is an umbrella of elements which may change everything under it, even in small or indirect ways.

The Genre:

The genre determines, amongst a few other things, how much of each of the above is needed. In essence, genre can be your guide to where you should place your focus in worldbuilding. Fantasy and science fiction often call for a greater emphasis on the physical setting and cultures, while realistic fiction set in real-life places readers are likely to be familiar with is likely to need emphasis on the protagonist and supporting cast. Some genres, such as historical fiction, may need a more evenly balanced blend of each system. The plot structure itself will also have an influence. For instance, in a 'pursuit' plot, the ticking clock and pursuit itself are typically considered of more import than the characters, while 'forbidden love' plots are all about the people and culture.

Remember, as always, to mold writing advice to your work and not the other way around. The influence of one or more of these systems may be heightened or lessened, depending on the needs of your story, and they may interact differently, perhaps even from chapter to chapter. Thank you for reading, and I hope this can be a useful model for you to use as a springboard in some of your worldbuilding.

#mischiefiswritten #writeblr #worldbuilding #writing #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing with psychology

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winters-tales · 4 years

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The Lease

[ This is an excerpt from a completed commission; if you're interested in commissioning a piece from me, you can find my prices in the "About" section of this page!]

File 23

Codename: Leaseholder

Following an anonymous tip, an investigation has been opened into an individual known as “Detective Nemed”; at the time of writing, she has been missing for 4 days. No other information is currently known about this “Detective” – she is certainly not a certified law enforcement agent in any of the countries she has visited, however, she seems to have managed to provide convincing enough credentials to avoid rousing suspicions.

The anonymous tip came in 4 days ago, 11th July 2019, at 4:34AM, and declared that there was a mentally disturbed individual that needed assistance; the caller expressed concern that the resident of a particular flat was at risk of self-injury, and police and paramedics were dispatched.

On arrival there was no answer, despite lights being visible in the flat. The door was breached, and a search of the premises conducted. When it became apparent that no-one was present and no lives were at risk, the paramedics were dismissed, the police were stood down, and the Missing Persons unit was brought in.

Initial investigations show that the “Detective” has gathered a total of sixty-eight (68) interviews, however not all of these recordings seem to be relevant to whatever she was looking into. A lot of investigative work seems to have gone into whatever Nemed was looking into, with the walls covered in newspaper clippings, as well as various historical records spanning the last 200 years or so. Nemed seems to have found links between a great many of these events, although what that link is will need more investigation.

One unusual detail is the presence of post-it notes throughout the flat; many of them were labelled as if addressing an outsider, rather than the person who left the post-it notes. For example, one post-it on the door of Nemed’s office stated “In here.” On entering, the most visible post-it on Nemed’s computer read “Start here. Password: Leaseholders.”

It is suspected that the anonymous tip may have been Nemed herself, wanting us to find her work.

On her computer, she had set up a folder marked “For you – first steps.” In it were a series of recorded interviews, complete with written transcripts and personal notes of the interview experience.

Two interview transcripts that were earmarked in this way follow; the rest are logged within the file and follow much the same direction.

Interview 1

“Interview with Dr Solveig Hel- Helgis-”

“Helgisdottir, Detective. Hard “g” sound. It’s Icelandic, I understand your difficulty. Call me Solveig if it’s easier.”

“Thank you, Solveig. Interview begins at 14:35 local time, date 15th March 2019.” There is a pause on the tape, a brief exhalation before I get started. “Why did you blow up the oil rig?”

“Starting with the big one first? Sure. But you won’t believe me.” The Icelandic voice is soft and faintly amused, the accent sounding so gentle against the backdrop of silence. She didn’t suit the prison uniform she was in at all.

“We’ve got to start somewhere.” My own accent sounds harsh next to hers as I play the tape back, even though I remember being just as calm as she was.

“As you insist.” Did she shrug at this point? I can’t remember if she shrugged or just smiled. And try as I might, even though I know what’s coming, the next words send a chill into my soul.

“The Leviathan told me to.”

The sound of me choking on my coffee is an undignified one that I wish the recorder hadn’t picked up.

“I am a marine biologist, Detective; part of an arctic diving team. We research the impact pollution is having on marine life in the artic. It’s cold, and it’s dangerous, but it’s fascinating. I love my job, and yet seeing what is happening to the world horrifies and saddens me. Emaciated polar bears, whales that choke on the sheer volume of plastic in the fish they feed on, seals and sea lions successfully raising fewer and fewer pups each year… it’s heart-breaking. And the worst part was the oil rig.

“Spillages from offshore oil rigs are inevitable. They occur with regularity but the spills are small enough in volume that they don’t get reported on by mainstream media; media only seems to care if spills are the size of the one that occurred in the Gulf of Mexico, and anything below that is not considered newsworthy.

“They’re newsworthy to me, detective; each and every one. When you’ve cleaned the feathers of as many birds as I have, only to see them drowned in the oil the next week, you get frustrated.”

“Sure, I get that.” I was so confused, I remember. She’s a respected marine biologist, not a terrorist. “But why not join a Greenpeace protest, or write to the company, or governing bodies? Why blow it up?”

“I told you: The Leviathan told me to.”

“Ok, I’ll bite: what’s the Leviathan?”

“Commonly used in the biblical sense, a leviathan is a large sea creature whose size dwarfs that of the larger aquatic species like whales.” You can definitely hear her smiling now; I thought she was making fun of me but listening back, it’s more likely she was stalling, hoping to not have to tell the rest.

“Funny.” I wince; way too acerbic and frustrated, far too soon. I should know better. “I know what it means, what I want to know is: is the Leviathan a new terrorist group? An offshoot of an existing one, perhaps? What incited you to an act of terrorism?”

Now it’s her turn to sigh, and there’s an almost imperceptible creak as she leans forward in her chair.

“It’s not a terrorist group, or an extremist offshoot. You won’t believe me, but I’ll try anyway. If I tell enough people, someone will believe me eventually.”

Again the chills, but this time it’s because I know what’s coming. This isn’t the first time I’ve played this back.

“I was diving again; one of the team had spotted something on her dive that looked like an oarfish, but here in the arctic we’re far too cold for them. But she was out of diving time so I went in to have a look and see if it was definitely an oarfish, or something else she’d mistaken for one.”

“What did you think it could have been?”

“Something long and snake-like? Potentially the tentacles of a giant or colossal squid – I was a little excited, they are very elusive and I’d not seen one in the wild before. And if there are giant squid in the area, there are probably sperm whales nearby as well. So down I went.

“I had my light, and my torch, and my camera – the local police confiscated the footage, but I can give you the name of a colleague who has a copy so you can watch it for yourself – and I kept a careful eye on how deep I was going. The decompression chamber is not a fun place to be.”

She pauses.

“May I have a drink? Coffee if possible, or tea? Just not water.”

The tape recorder picks up the scrape of my chair, the distant sound of me opening the interview room door, and barely captures the sound of me requesting a hot drink.

And then the background noise stops, and the whispering starts.

It’s her voice, and it sounds like she’s pressed right up against the tape recorder. I know she isn’t; I remember opening the door, asking for the drink, turning around, and she hadn’t moved from her position at the table.

But the tape recorder is now spewing out whispers that flat-out didn’t happen in the interview, words that spill out with such a sense of urgency there’s no pause for breath.

The first time I listened to the tape I thought I’d recorded over the interview somehow, and by the time I realised what I was hearing and started scrambling to find a pen and paper for transcribing, the whispering had ended. This time I’m ready. The second recorder is running, my pen scribbling furiously to keep up where I can.

As suddenly as it starts, it’s over, and that tell-tale background white noise starts back up as the sound of my chair scraping cuts back in. In that room, no more than 10 seconds passed from me getting up, to sitting back down.

“I forgot to ask how you take your coffee.”

“Black will do right now. I’m not keen on sleeping.”

“So, this Leviathan – did you see it?”

“Yes.”

“What did it look like?”

“Huge.”

The sound of my voice sighing again; when did I get so unprofessional?

“Doctor-“

“I know, Detective. I’m sorry. But English is not my first language, and flights of fantasy are not things I’m familiar with. I’m trying.”

She sounds like a teacher, with her gentle tone and unspoken urge to stop disappointing her. The echoes of the shame I felt then hit me again as I listen. She takes a breath, and tries again.

“I saw the tendrils first, and yes, they looked like the tails of an oarfish. Then there were other tendrils, more like a squid’s tentacles, but there were far too big for giant or even colossal squid. I didn’t know what I was looking at, so all I could do was try to get closer, even though doing so would take me deeper. I risked the depth, and then I saw it, and it was looking back at me, too. So many eyes, lit up in the dark, all pointed at me.

“When I say it was huge, the word doesn’t capture it. It was vast. It was so big it should not, by rights, have fit into our ocean. We should have seen this thing before now, but here it was, in front of me.

“The tendrils I’d seen all led back to what I assume was a mouth of some kind; they lined it like a catfish’s whiskers. The rest of the body was like that of a great whale, perhaps a sperm whale as it had teeth and not baleen plates – each tooth was easily as big as me - and it seemed armoured in some way, but I couldn’t see properly; the light I had didn’t pierce the gloom well enough to see it in full. It was so dark down there I thought I’d gone too far and would never make it back up to the surface.

“It’s tendrils started to glow, and then it spoke. Not with its mouth, almost directly into my mind; it felt like whale song in my chest and behind my eyes, my whole body was shaking with how loud it was.”

The pause is mercifully interrupted by the arrival of the doctor’s coffee, and I take the moment to gather myself.

“So, you dived in search of a giant squid, potentially diving too deep, and thought you saw a monster from the bible, is that right?”

“If that’s the spin you’d like to put on it.” Her answer is cold at my suggestion that she hallucinated the whole thing.

“Ok, and what did it say?”

“It said the world is not our home, it’s our host, and that we need to clean the world up. It said we’re dooming ourselves, not earth, if we don’t do better. It said they all care about us-“

“Wait a minute, ‘they all?’ There’s more?”

“Detective, please do not interrupt. Yes, it said ‘they,’ but I only saw one creature that day, and I never saw it again. Perhaps the list of other people you’ll be speaking to will be able to provide more answers?”

“How did you know I’d be speaking to others?”

This time, the smile in her voice is so blatant she may as well be laughing at me.

“It told me you would.”

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