#cried and sob into my illow

[scruplescripture]

Suuuppeeer rough stuff but here’s like, the meat of my Daydreamer AU plot, and some fun stuff… my sketches are lazy

Alright so here’s the sitch, my ramblings…

This is prismos deal;

Prismos dreamer was killed in his sleep, leaving behind Prismo as a daydream. Blue, desaturated, and more husk-like. Prismo didn’t have much of a clue as to what happened until he checked on his “body” and discovered the dreamer had been assassinated, but didn’t wake up in the process.

Scarab got a notification that Prismo had died and that there was an unknown entity in the vicinity, so he went to scope it out. He found what looked like prismo, and realized it was definitely prismo. Though still feeling bitter, he used the situation to chase off and mock Prismo.

Prismo escaped by pressing the TV remote before things got ugly, he went to the most chaotic place he could think of; Where the mushroom war took place. Because he thought he would be harder to track there.

He found shelter in an old well near a civilization. The people living there had children who regularly wished at the well, they called it the “Wishing Well”

So when Prismo got there, he decided to use some of his leftover power to help grant the children’s wish when they tossed coins down. Prismo decided to use the coin of the first children’s wish as a pupil, because he was unsettled by his own reflection in the water.

Eventually rumours spread about the Wishing Well that Prismo inhabited, and he got more wishes, the well slowly being filled with coins and other various objects. Obviously it was then easy for Scarab to find where Prismo was hiding out.

When Scarab found where Prismo was hiding he found it hilarious, mocking him further at how useless he had become. This drove Prismo even further into his turmoil, but Scarab had left him there to rot in the well. Until a crown with immense magical power was haphazardly thrown down.

Here’s where I’m at with Simon;

Both Simon and Prismo are a bit crazy by the time they meet in the well, after Simon had thrown the crown down in a fit of anger and desperation. Prismo couldn’t grant his wish due to most of his power being used up by that time, but since it was a bigger wish than any other he had granted while in the well, Prismo could get away with excuses.

Prismo promised Simon that he would help Simon get what he wanted since he was a wishmaster, he just needed to keep Prismo around long enough to get his power back. So Simon keeps Prismo in a prism necklace, shining light into it when Prismo wants to stretch his form.

Simon was manipulated by Prismo using his fear of losing Betty and desperation to keep Marceline safe. Prismo clung to the magic of the crown because it was similar to his own that he had lost; granting a wish and all. and also because he felt like he was losing it down in the well he was in, he was driven desperate for the power he once possessed and a need to finally explore the world beyond what he saw on the TV screen back in the time room.

Prismo is consistency being pulled between who he was before and the deceitful way he is now, feeling both guilty and angry from what was taken from him, and what he feels like he needs to do to “fix things”

Meanwhile Simon is now protecting both Marceline and Prismo using the ice crown under Prismos instructions, though he now sees things through more rose-tinted glasses (literally LOL!) due to Prismo filling his head with half-truths and white lies. He’s able to keep the other two safe by using snow-based defensive strategies, hence “Snow King” though if he needs to he can use larger shuriken-like ice snowflakes

I’m not sold on the way I drew him but here’s the deets

-his beard grew as long as his hair but he cut it short so prismo could see out of the prism, he keeps his hair long so Marceline can braid it

-Prismo made a passing comment about him looking cool in red so now it’s his thing

-like, a little bit happier than in the cannon show, but it’s all based on lies so it’s tragic

-more focused on his work again because of Prismo, kind of torn between that and looking for Betty?? Who knows

To be honest, if anyone’s got better ideas lemme hear em’ cause I might be crazy about this and far off the mark with how Prismo would act in that situation

Also yes scarab becomes the new wishmaster, still have not thought that design out yet be gentle

Also I think about this song a lot while thinking about daydreamer AU, have it

#daydreamer au #cried and sob into my illow #definitely not an excuse to have more Simon and Prismo interaction #Spotify

[schnees-and-schnugs]

i promised @dameschnee123​ id write a whitley-willow angst ficlet after i bomb my midterms lmao so here we go 

The Schnee Manor felt a tinge warmer than usual. Willow could tell, she always hated the cold. Despite her helplessness, it was the one thing she could never let go of from her life before Jacques Schnee. The warmth of her father’s smile, the faint smell of his cologne that is still somehow attached to his scarf never failed to help her feel a bit more comfortable in this freezing mansion. 

How could she not have seen the warning signs? The way Jacques seemed to suck the warmth out of any room he was in? How is hands were always so cold? It was if the Gods were giving her every sign to stay away, but she just pushed on right through- falling for every one of his tricks, stubbornly thinking that maybe he loved her. Maybe he wasn’t using her. 

Gods, why had she been such a stupid girl. 

Her mother always said she was naive, just like her father. Always wanting to believe the best in people. Even he had believed in whatever manufactured good Jacques had in him. 

Stupid Stupid Stupid. Everyone.

Time blurred and somehow she found herself back in her bedroom. She didn’t remember walking so far from the front doors of the manor, but yet...

Was she crying? 

There was a dull pain in her throat and Willow could feel a sob rising in her chest. Are these tears of joy? Anger? Sadness? She spent so long numbing the pain that she couldn’t tell the difference anymore. All she knew is that she needed to kill it before it became futile. Numb it before the reality of her life hit her.

But what is there to run away from?  He’s gone

But Willow still felt the same. She was no longer being held down, but she had gotten so comfortable on the ground she can’t tell the difference anymore. But... Perhaps she’ll give in tonight. A little treat for doing the one thing she should have done years ago- getting rid of him.

On her nightstand sat a bottle of liquor, next to the family photos she cared enough to keep next to her every night. Willow wiped her cheeks.

Ironic 

Standing next to the bottle on either side were two small photos. Once upon a time she had taken the time to take photos with each of her children and frame them. Once upon a time she used to happily gaze upon these photos before retiring to bed, thinking that if her worst fears about Jacques were true, she would at least still have her babies.

But the truth hit a lot harder than she thought it would.

The picture on the right was of her and Winter. It was a regal picture- but not short on love. Winter had always been a serious child, bred from birth to be Jacques’ perfect heir. She was always easily flustered when it came to acts of affection, which really only spurred Willow on. She had both her hands on Winter’s shoulders while Winter stood there on front of her, arms behind her back. Smirking. Willow started to chuckle before catching herself. What right did she have to look upon this picture and smile? She hadn’t been the same mother in that picture for years.

The picture on the left was of her and Weiss. She was poised closer to Weiss, almost bent over with her head near Weiss’ shoulder, smiling and rubbing her cheek against her daughter’s. Willow almost couldn’t recognize herself. Somehow this woman managed to make Weiss smile. She hasn’t been able to really make Weiss this happy in years. What would she give to be able to recreate this image in the present. Just stop thinking.

Her hands were shaking as she reached for the bottle in between the framed pictures. Why did she still keep them there? To torture herself? Guilt herself? Did the old Willow place them there knowing that it’ll only hurt herself later? She didn’t need these thoughts. Not tonight. 

She quickly grabbed the bottle and raised it to her lips, but not before she caught a glimpse of the third photo in the middle, obscured from her sight earlier by the liquor bottle.

Gods.

Willow stood there, facing the camera in the midst of laughter. To her side was Whitley, six - not wait five years old- with his arms around her neck and standing on his toes, landing a big smooch on her cheek. This wasn’t meant to be the picture, but Whitley was quite the hyperactive child. The photographer had taken this photo and proclaimed it to be the more wholesome shoot he had ever done. Willow had agreed.

There was a time when she wasn’t able to go three hours without taking a glance at this photo. She had adored it so much she kept it a secret from Jacques, not wanting him to publish it or hang it up for everyone who visited the manor to see. No. This picture was hers.

Now a part of Willow had wished she had showed it to Jacques. Had let him take it and tarnish the memory before Willow ever could have done it herself. She gripped her bottle, knuckles whitening. Does she wish she had hurt Whitley more?

No... she doesn’t. She wont.

She placed the bottle back down hesitantly and made her way to Whitley’s room. What was she going to say? “Hey I know you’re very upset, and I’ve been ignoring your emotional needs for years but please just let me be your mother for once and comfort you”? No- too direct. 

What would old Willow do? 

She grimaced. Old Willow wouldn’t have needed to make excuses. She wouldn’t have watched Whitley run up the staircase and done nothing to console him. Old Willow deserved to be Whitley’s mother. She didn’t abandon him. Hurt him continuously for years. What right does she have to come back and pretend that she deserved his forgiveness?

But she wasn’t going to leave him. Not again.

She tentatively approached his door before pausing, hearing a faint sound behind the door. Crying? Or maybe closer to sobbing. Willow gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to run away. You know how to do this. Just do it. 

She always knew Whitley cried a lot more than he let on, but of course he never let her in on it. The night Weiss left for Beacon Willow was in this same position, standing nervously outside Whitley’s room door, listening to him weep before eventually losing her nerve and walking away. That night she should have gone in. But she was too afraid of rekindling the relationship she used to have with her son. Too scared to comfort him.

But tonight she will.

She softly knocked on his door. “Whitley... darling, may I come in?”

The sobbing stopped. There was a small sniffle. And then silence. 

“Whitley, sweetheart, please?” Willow hated the begging in her voice. Hated that she had to beg her son to let her in because she lost the right to be able to walk in casually so long ago.

You know what... fuck it

Willow opened the door and silently stepped into the room. Thankfully, Whitley doesn’t lock his room door- a rule set by Jacques a few months ago. She spotted him in his bed, curled up around his pillow under a mass of covers. Is he pretending to be asleep? Willow doesn’t really blame him. She could pretend that she fell for it and leave- No.

She made her way to his bed and sat on the edge, still at loss for words.

“I know you’re awake”. She cringed at the accusatory tone of her voice. Be gentle.  “Its okay if you don’t want to talk... but I’d prefer if you’d tell me how you’re feeling.”

Silence.

Then came a muffled reply: “I’m fine”

“Okay...” Willow could see the tear stains on his pillow where he had been crying into it. “Could you tell me why you’re crying then?”

“Why do you think?”

Willow scowled. She had dealt with teen talk back before with Winter. But now it feels like she’s walking on egg shells.

“I know you’re upset about what happened earlier tonight-”

“Why are you here?” Whitley sat up, glaring at her. “Shouldn’t you be drowning your sorrows away?”

Gods, this kid. Willow wanted to get angry. Just up and leave like she usually would do- preferring to sit in solitude than to deal with this. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Looking at Whitley- his mussed up hair, red eyes and nose from weeping only moments ago, she wanted to hold him in her arms until he stopped feeling hurt or until he fell asleep. Or both. It didn’t matter to her. She wanted him to be okay. 

“No... I’m choosing to be here with you right now,” she took his hand in hers. Surprisingly, he didn’t stop her. “Look I... I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. You were so young and... I just- every time I see you-”

“What? Do I remind you of Father?” Whitley snapped. “Isn’t that what you always said? That he and I deserve each other?” He was fully facing her now, practically yelling. Willow choked down pain in her throat. Whitley never yelled. Even when he’s upset, he speaks barely above his inside voice. 

“No! I didn’t mean-” 

“What? Tell me whats your excuse now?”

“I don’t have an excuse! Everyday I regret failing you! It hurts to look at you because I love you and everyday I wish that I was stronger. Strong enough to be your mother instead of the mess I am now. Whitley please, darling, just know that you’re everything to me and I want you to be happy,” Willow hadn’t realized she was yelling back before until she heard the echos of her last few words. She slowly looked back up at him. “Sweet-”

He quickly pulled his hand away from hers, cradling both against his chest. She couldn’t describe the look on his face as anything other than... panic.

“Why?” Tears welled up in his eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Willow blinked. “What do you mean? Whitley what’s wrong?”

“Why are you saying these things? Are you drunk?” Whitley seemed to shrink into himself, distancing himself from Willow. “You abandoned me. You, Winter, Weiss, you’re all the same. At least Father pretended to care about me, and you all had to take that away too”.

No No No. Willow scrambled for anything to say, anything to calm him down. But her mind was empty. All she could do was stare. She thought she had known Whitley well enough all these years, but no... she didn’t. The shoulder pads he usually wore to imitate his father were gone, and now he just looked... small. So small. Was he always like this? She didn’t know. She hadn’t bothered to ever look any deeper than what scrapes Whitley gave her in these last few years. 

“You think that you can just come here and act like you’ve loved me all along?” Whitley’s voiced cracked. “Why are you being so cruel?”

“Cruel...” Willow barely registered his words. Whitley didn’t understand like how Weiss understood. He’s too damaged. Too caught up in his resentment and anger to ever see the people who cared for him. But what could she say? Yes, I neglected you for years, but you should forgive me? Yes, Winter left for Atlas Academy and never reconnected with you, you should forgive her? Forgive Weiss for finding a better life else where than here with you? Whitley could never find it within him to forgive them. Willow knew he’s been burned too many times and now he’s given up. He just wants to be alone. Even if it hurts him.

“Just... get out. Leave me alone. I don’t need you or anyone... just go.” 

Willow got up, feeling Whitley’s eyes burn a hole into her back as she turned to leave. Did he actually want her to stay? She didn’t know. He probably doesn’t know either. 

She heard his breath catch as she stepped out the door, closing it behind her. 

Willow didn’t know how long she stood outside in the hallway, listening to Whitley’s wails before walking back to her room. She hoped a little distance would block out the noise, but she could still hear it faintly as she sat on her bed drinking the last drop of her liquor.

She placed the bottle conveniently right between the two photos of her daughters and hoped for sleep.

#its 2 am and i feel like i did a shit job but here it is #it played out differently in my head but i had a hard time transferring it to words but here it is #rwby #willow schnee #whitley schnee #weiss schnee #winter schnee