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what if i made this a starter / plotting call...

thinking about abigail in her far cry verse. again.

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thinking about abigail in her far cry verse. again.

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“ do you really believe me a ghost? ” hands demure themselves atop her lap. something close to noiselessness follows her question. it serves the purpose of giving the young man time to re-orient himself if needed.

@diaboeli for cloud.

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when is lunafreya gonna carry cloud like a princess :/

does baby desire carry?

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Aliena Of Shiring

The Pillars of The Earth « Ep. 07x1 »

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THAW: sender holds receiver during a snowstorm / abigail & john yah yah yah 😌

VALENTINE'S WEEK PROMPT *. no longer accepting. // @yakam0z for john.

despite their arrival the weather only became more violent, in complete revolt of humans with their horses and canvases. the storm is bitter but they inevitably make lodgings upon this desolate land and gutted town, almost washed away by snow, uninvited.

with less hands to pass on the task to, miss roberts does eventually volunteer to make a path for the remainder to haul away davey callander's body. as feeling as they all were, no one wanted to sleep in the same area as a corpse or mention it. davey .. you really won't get back up will you? abigail thinks back to her every encounter with the sibling-ed man. it was difficult to imagine him no longer joining them all for a cup of coffee or an irish. his voice hung on her mind throughout the slog up the mountain.

it was these more immediate thoughts that slow down her already struggling gait. the wind slices into already numbed cheeks and breathes across the unshielded portions of her face like a slap. she couldn't readjust her scarf without stopping and putting down the lantern so she kept going, pulling her feet through a tough bank as the apocalyptic door to a different cabin came into the light.

at first, she tries pulling at it with one hand and then attempts to find a spot where the lantern wouldn't fall or be knocked over.

she tries again with both hands and doesn't feel the door move. the wind was leaning against it like a heavy paw, “ shit! ” it would sound mostly like a whimper if anyone could hear it. the cold was already reaching around her throat. abigail pulled frustrated air through her teeth as she attempted to substitute the abrasive feeling with something different. she reaches for her scarf again and considers retreating when the presence of something solid presses against her back more than effectively keeping her there.

tension is immediate and her body doesn't understand what to do with this new feeling. perhaps it was death, come for her too. then an arm she recognizes as john's reaches out Infront of them already trying for the seams of the door.

they said nothing to each other but understood immediately what he was trying to do. they attempt to squeeze an opening through the door again. with his chest flush behind she felt more stable and stronger. pushing and pulling and grunting mutely, eventually they peel it open enough to escape inside together. not wanting his fingers to get caught she leaned against the door as he slipped past.

the air marched on outside and through the gaping crevices of what was once a house. darkness, was all around them as they'd neglected the lantern to the elements. the space was perfect to be a temporary crypt. abigail rubbed at her arms and went to adjust the scarf now remembering it again.

their breathing was heavy and while deeply appreciative of his help she was not enthusiastic about speaking. not for a while. the woman was more intent on holding herself in that darkness.

when he comes from behind to envelop her again she notices he lacks any excuse beyond comfort. the fold of his arms is tight as he packs her against his bicep with mindfulness towards her slight frame. it's there she chooses to close her eyes to him and the lightless world but the effort wasn't meant to preclude his existence at all. the scent of him still reaches her nose; leathers, wet wool, intermingle with a tangible musk of gun oil and sweat. she breathes him in as a nameless anxiety sits around her ears.

“ .. he was still talkin' to me. ” she says. “ he was still talking, not so long ago. ”

only john marston knew of abigail robert's real hatred for death. she'd only ever disclosed to him how easily it still disturbed her.

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💗   𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒  𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊  𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒   .   .   .    (   cupid's  bow!   )  Use  this  generator  to  send  me  a  prompt!     *Rating:  Platonic  /  Romantic  /  NSFW.   With  over  95  prompts  to  choose  from.  preview under cut

→  ∗  ⁽  !  ⁾  Sender  [  sends  the  prompt  ]  &  Receiver  [  receives  the  prompt  ]

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Photo: Paul Schmidt

Model: Astrid Berges Frisbey

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the line of her mouth pulls back into a cheek more so than the other as the dry scratch of his voice answers her. there is a proposal in it blatant enough that the last passerby shoots them a quick, interested glance but doesn't wait to hear the end of it. not that any intrigue would've been rewarded as the girl was already accustomed to such things.

her head moves to one side before she even recognizes a reply. an unserious thing. “ well, if you'd kept on the same way, a little further — you would've found it already. ” suggesting the inn with a bar intact just as deliberately as it was conjured up in her mind. “ they don't really make 'em but they have'm. ”

blue eyes watch the curb of his lip patiently as she selects the next thing, “ as for company .. ” abigail elects to pretend to think on it, “ they're okay enough. ” she says.

pleasantries exchanged they can now broaden their smile, happy to see him. she pushes a hand gingerly up against the lapel of his jacket, patting it once. “ c'mon. ” with john marston, one could sometimes afford to be lighthearted. it could be alright. sometimes.

if there is one thing to know about john, it is that he slips away. as a boy barely out of short trousers, it was to avoid the heavy work. the lifting, the dragging, but also the nagging, and the boots that kicked at the back of his knees if he were not quick enough. as if logging hay from one end of the camp to the other would warrant any hurry. now, his sneaking off ahead of his comrades into wherever town the gang comes across has a very different cause. one he does not mention by name, not even to himself, but in truth he does not need to. he is uselessly obvious in his pursuits, which is also why he comes to a complete standstill as she steps into his line of sight, despite the way he now holds up traffic.

' that is a real good question. ' he croaks, only choking on the first half of the syllables he lets loose from his dry throat. the grin on his face is genuine, although it cracks at the corner. ' suppose you wouldn't know where a fellow might find some drink in this place? ' a bad excuse, as transparent a lie as they come. he is still biting back the smile that threatens to overcome him at the fact that she is here. ' and perhaps some good company with it? '

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a collection of works : penned by wren .

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she chose to make the approach at that crucial juncture on the street without fully understanding the why, only that he was intriguing enough to her. the way his arms settled, elongated enough to warrant the lean in his back as if to compensate for it. the same expression when the world was past his focus. she'd crossed after deciding she'd watched enough.

“ now who could you be lookin' for? ” she was asking now knowing well he wouldn't answer. at least not truthfully.

@tealias for john.

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“ he gave me this but i think you gave 'em worse. hell..! ” her tongue gently checks for any loose teeth or deserters. her mouth was warm and vibrating with it. it tastes like she bit down on something salty and metallic. she closes her eyes while her jaw works a moment. “ you alright? ”

@deathsmaidens for milou.

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“ i hadn't realized the water was cold. ” everything past her mid-thigh was bundled numbness. now that she was free from her thoughts she could feel blood vacating their extremities, leaving needles in her knees and shins. perhaps companion would find it strange she hadn't noticed any of it. her feet were already restless at the idea.

@moonache for shadowheart.

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like this for a short, dialogue length starter ( please specify muse )

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"forgive and forget" WRONG! go to hell

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LUCY BOYNTON in Rabanne styled by Leith Clark, hair by Leigh Kates, makeup by Alex Babsky (April 2, 2024)

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PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE *  inspired by this post. these don't have to be romantic - you can specify romantic or not when you send them. in essence, these are simply intimate, affectionate moments to share with someone you love and care about. adjust as necessary, send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt

[ lean ] sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder

[ shop ] sender and receiver go to the grocery store together

[ brush ] sender brushes receiver's hair

[ tie ] sender helps receiver with their tie, either by putting it on or adjusting it

[ necklace ] sender helps receiver with the clasp of their necklace from behind

[ zip up ] sender assists receiver with zipping up a piece of clothing

[ unzip ] sender assists receiver with unzipping a piece of clothing

[ shoelaces ] sender bends down to tie receiver's shoelaces

[ swipe ] sender notices a smudge of something on receiver's face and gently wipes it off

[ braid ] sender braids receiver's hair

[ jacket ] sender takes their jacket off and hangs it on receiver's shoulders

[ puddle ] sender hurries to stop receiver from stepping into a puddle

[ drinks ] sender brings receiver a drink from a bar/their kitchen

[ feed ] sender feeds receiver's pet/s for them

[ cook ] sender and receiver cook a meal together

[ feed ] sender allows receiver to try a bite of their dish, holding their fork out for receiver to taste

[ teach ] sender, an expert at something, takes time to teach receiver how it works and how they can get better at it, too

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them

[ makeup ] sender fixes receiver's makeup for them

[ bathroom ] sender and receiver go to a public restroom together and have a normal conversation in between the stalls

[ aloud ] sender reads aloud to receiver

[ refill ] sender refills receiver's glass without asking

[ massage ] sender notices receiver looks tense, steps up behind them, and massages their shoulders

[ listen ] sender listens to receiver explain something they're passionate about

[ silence ] sender and receiver comfortably exist in silence together, both of them working or reading or focusing on something different

[ food ] sender brings food over to receiver's house

[ hum ] sender hums along to a song receiver is singing

[ see ] sender sees something that reminds them of receiver and texts them a picture of it

[ admire ] sender stares at receiver across a room, silently admiring and appreciating them from afar

[ win ] sender lets receiver beat them in a game

[ puzzle ] sender helps receiver solve/put together a puzzle

[ carry ] after receiver falls asleep in an inconvenient place, sender carries them to a bed and tucks them in

[ kneel ] sender finds receiver sick in the bathroom ("tossing their cookies"), and kneels beside them, holding their hair back and cleaning their face

[ clean ] sender helps bathe receiver

[ wash ] sender helps receiver wash their hair

[ patch ] sender carefully patches one of receiver's wounds