#§ long rest (ooc)

[askchilchuck]

I’m sending my evil army of crabs to unleash the horrors on you >:)

What do you mean-

WHY ARE THERE SO MANY!?

[ao-xingyume1987]

Bittersweetness (practice)

[kjones-fandom]

I do think that Neil and Aaron would eventually get along but imagine if maybe a decade or so after the king's men Neil and Aaron get into a fight. It doesn’t matter what about but Neil runs his mouth and Aaron decks him. It doesn’t hurt that much and he doesn’t actually want to hurt Neil he was just so angry. I think Andrew wouldn’t react that much in the moment. He would assess the damage and Neil’s fine but Aaron’s busted his knuckles. So he wraps Aaron’s hand for him and doesn’t say anything for the longest time. No one knows what he’s thinking but the rest of the foxes are there (think like a reunion) and everyone kind of moves on.

Later that night while Aaron is icing his hand Andrew enters the room. Neil and Aaron already would have made up by this point. They aren’t necessarily friends but they don’t dislike each other anymore. Andrew would be silent as he had been earlier and would stare at Aaron’s hand. Aaron opens his mouth to say something- maybe to apologize or maybe to defend himself. But Andrew gets there first, he doesn’t raise his voice or become violent. Instead, he makes eye contact with Aaron and says “ This isn’t college anymore. If you ever lay a hand on my husband again I will kill you.” His voice isn’t apathetic but it isn’t very emotional.

He doesn’t break eye contact and his voice is steady and Aaron knows he’s telling the truth. Aaron doesn’t look away even after hearing the threat. He just nods his head “ I know”. And he does know because the twins are not the same men they were in college. Andrew doesn’t threaten Katelyn or speak badly about her. The twins do grow up and I think Andrew would respect and even consider Katelyn his sister-in-law first and his brother's wife second. No, this isn’t Andrew and Aaron losing their relationship or having a falling out. They’ve grown and matured and Aaron would be more pissed if Andrew stayed silent the whole time. Because he knows he would have done the same if Andrew had laid a hand on Katelyn.

TLDR: Andrew and Aaron grow after college. They respect each other's partners. Hell, they even like the other significant other. Because Andrew and Aaron love each other and after years of therapy and peace they come to terms with the fact that Katelyn and Neil are both there to stay.

Edit: Also, I am not calling Neil weak or saying he needs protection. He can absolutely defend himself but he shouldn’t have to with family. I love Aaron and Neil’s friendship and the fight doesn’t affect their relationship.

[venstm]

So I think I’m going to take a week or so break from writing come back clear out my askbox entirely and just sort of throw out a new plotting call adjust my muse list and go from there. Don’t let this deter you from interacting if we are mutuals I will like post more prompts to slowly start interactions up again.

[avastyetwats]

Can we talk about this scene for a moment? It's everything to me for several reasons. First of all, Lucius. He deals with so much when it comes to Stede, but no matter how annoyed and exhausted he is, he's always one of the first to stand up for Stede. Especially when it came to Ed. He saw how hard Stede was falling for Ed, how he was trying to impress him, and he was always there to point that out to Ed, especially when they went on their 'adventure' and then we have this scene where Lucius is the first to stand up and say something on his behalf. He saved Stede's life right there as much as Edward did. He's dealt with a lot when it comes to Stede and is antics and pirating, and we see how irritated and annoyed he can get, but when it comes down to it, Lucius won't hesitate to defend his Captain and friend. He won't hesitate to protect him and it's so beautiful. Then the whole crew follows along. In episode 1 they were ready to mutiny, but they've come to love and accept Stede as their Captain. Not to mention he's basically the dad of the group because of how much he loves and cares for them and they see that now more than ever. They all stand up for him and show their love and loyalty, all coming together as one crew, as one family, because that's what they are. And Stede's smile? Oh, it's everything. The way they all stand up for him? No one has ever done that. All his life he's been made fun of, bullied, and laughed at and here is his crew standing up for him and praising him as a pirate. Which is all Stede has ever wanted, to be a pirate and he's finally seen as one, even if it may just be to save his life, but still, you can see the man is about to cry because he's so overcome with emotion. There's also pride and unbridled joy in that smile of his and in his eyes when he looks at them, especially when they finish his 'talk it through' phase. They don't say it with disdain or dread, but with smiles this time - with pride of their own. They've come to understand what that truly means and how much it's actually has helped them and how it was one of Stede's ways of showing that they matter, that their mental health matters. And who has the biggest smile when saying it? Lucius. This is one of my favorite moments of the show for these reasons. Stede may not be the greatest pirate or pirate Captain, but he cares. He loves and he doesn't hesitate in showing it and that's what sets him apart. And now the crew shows Stede that he, too, is loved and cared for. That they care for him, that they love him in return. This was THE family moment for me.

[misericorsalvator]

An Epitaph

Henry didn't know where he was. It was cold, freezing, but that was all he could tell, from the sharp chill that tore through his damp clothes, to the frigid air that felt like icicles in his lungs when he breathed. Even if he was someplace familiar, it would have been impossible to tell through the veil of rime in the air, the thick hoar that coated the ground. But wherever he was, he had to find shelter. soon, before his limbs grew any number that they already were and he lost the three fingers he had left on his right hand to frostbite. It took a good deal of walking, trudging through the snow, before he found something resembling sanctuary. A rocky hovel dug deep into a mountainside he hadn't even noticed was there. The crooked mountaintop loomed far overhead like a wind-swept pine tree, towering over the barren expanse and shielding the small patch of land near the cave's entrance from the worst of the snowfall. It was a narrow fit, the opening more narrow than a coffin, but it opened up into a wide chamber beyond, dark, lit only by the little light reflecting on the snow outside.

Panic stabbed at him suddenly. That chamber felt familiar, though he couldn't recall from where. The rockface of the walls was smooth, man-made, and the stalactites hanging from the domed ceiling above were unnatural, all the same length, jagged and sharpened to fine points. But he had no time to waste on the unnerving interior. The weather outside was getting worse, the wind howling like wolves on a hunt, and soon his shelter would be just as cold and dangerous as the outside. He had to think, find a way to keep the warmth in. Henry returned to the entrance. He twisted around in the narrow space as best he could and began piling up snow with his numb hands, stacking it, pressing it into shape, mouthing breathless curses to himself, until he had built a solid wall halfway up to his neck. It should last. He didn't know for how long, but at least for now, until he could catch his breath. It had to last.

Henry slumped against the wall of the cave. The barrier he had built offered some protection, but he could still feel the cold creeping in, seeping through the gaps and cracks in the snow. A damp chill gnawed at his bones, freezing the air in his lungs. He knew he had to keep moving, to do something, anything, to stay warm and awake. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep. Not here. Not now. But his limbs were leaden and his body creaked in protest with every movement. His teeth chattered as he tried to think, tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The harder he tried, however, the more his thoughts seemed to slip away, like sand through his fingers. Panic clawed at his chest once more as he looked around the cavern. The walls seemed to close in, the smooth stone shimmering with a thin layer of rime frost. The ceiling above with the unnaturally sharp stalactites, loomed over him like a mouth full of fangs. He had to get out.

Henry pushed himself off the wall, his legs shaking beneath him. The snow was piling up faster now, further in through the entrance than the wall he had built, and he frantically began to shovel it away with his hands, trying to clear a path through the narrow gap. He shovelled harder, floundered, grappled til his fingers were too numb to move, but for every tiny hopeful opening he made, more snow took its place, as if the storm outside was determined to bury him alive. The cold was unbearable now, seeping into his very soul. Outside, the wind roared, a feral sound that echoed through the cavern and made the air thick with cold. Each breath now was a knife to the chest, each inhale burning his lungs. The snow crawled closer, blocking the entrance fully, and began to cover the cave floor inch by painful inch, forcing the hunter back step by painful step.

Henry's mind was reeling. He stumbled further into the cave, away from the encroaching cold, the bones of his legs creaking in protest. The deeper he went, the more the walls seemed to close in on him, the smooth rock pressing down, suffocating. The quiet there was unnerving, an oppressive stillness that made him painfully aware of his own laboured breathing and the pounding of his heart. The silence of the grave. For what felt like an hour, he pushed himself forward against the stone walls, cowering under the stalactites which were now low enough to graze the top of his head. No matter how far he went, the snow followed close behind, blocking the way back. Henry's movements grew slower, more sluggish, until he could no longer outrun it, and that white frost began piling up around his boots. He felt the fight leave him, his breathing weakened, his heartbeat slowed.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—a single snowflake, delicate and perfect, drifting down from the ceiling above. His breath caught in his throat as he watched it fall, impossibly slow, through solid rock. It glowed faintly in the dim light and Henry’s eyes followed its descent, almost hypnotized, until it landed softly on the ground. On something dark, something that wasn’t stone. He crouched down, his stiff knees cracking in protest, and wiped away the snow, his fingers brushing against a cold, unyielding surface.

A hand.

His hand.

His breath caught in his throat. He was looking at himself, at his own lifeless body, crumpled and broken, half-buried in the snow. The wounds were horrific—deep gashes and punctures that were draining the life out of him-- and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

This wasn't real.

The snow, the cold, it was all in his head, growing blurry as his brain ran out of oxygen. And the cavern wasn’t just familiar—it was the place he was dying, right now, in the real world. The place where his body was lying, bleeding out into the cold ground, his blood darkening the stone ground.

For a third time, panic surged through him, but it was laced with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. The wind howled louder, and now Henry could make out voices, battle cries, screeching and yowling in twisted satisfaction. The snow now poured into the cave through the solid ceiling above, burying everything in its path. He wanted to claw his way out, to escape this nightmare, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. The snow was too thick, too heavy, pressing down on him from all sides. As his vision began to blur, the walls of the cave pulsed, breathing with a life of their own, in tandem with his own slowed breaths. The snow continued to fall, endlessly, burying him, until all he could see was white. And then, from the heart of the storm, he saw a figure—a tall, imposing silhouette that moved with unnatural grace, cutting through the blizzard as if it were nothing. Henry tried to focus, but his mind was slipping, the edges of his consciousness fraying like old cloth.

His final thoughts drifted to Bran. A deep guilt welled up inside him. He wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. He wouldn’t see his boy’s face light up when he opened his presents, wouldn’t hear his laughter echoing through the house. Regret gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. In his last moments, as the darkness closed in, Henry barely registered the sharp pain in his chest—a bite, cold and searing, as if winter itself had latched onto his heart, and his eyes froze over with unshed tears until the world faded and he breathed his last.

In a long-forgotten catacomb in Wales, as the last drop of Henry's blood soaked into the humid ground, something ancient stirred. Beneath the layers of earth and stone, within the crypt that had long been forgotten, a pair of eyes snapped open. After centuries of entombment, something awoke. The blood of the dying hunter seeped into its consciousness, filling it with the remnants of Henry's life, his memories, his regrets. And once the blood had ran dry, the ancient knight rose from his tomb, his eyes burning with a cold, unholy fire.

He tore through the killers, the blood-thirsty beasts who had chased their prey to the ancient tomb, splattering the walls with their undead blood that burnt to ash, until none were left. Then, he looked down at the broken body of the hunter who had unwittingly become his saviour. With a grim sense of purpose, the knight knelt beside Henry’s lifeless form. He whispered words in a dialect long dead, a prayer, perhaps, or a vow. Then, with a reverence reserved for fallen comrades, the knight lifted the hunter’s body and carried him deeper into the crypt, where heroes were once laid to rest, where the knight's own tomb stood, broken apart from within. The hunter was gone, his spirit entwined with the ancient knight’s own, but his legacy would live on, honoured by one of the very creatures he had once sought to destroy.

The knight sealed the tomb with a final, solemn gesture, then left the catacombs behind and stepped out into the warm summer night, into a world which had long outlived him.

[blackmesaflashbackepisode]

This will be so exciting. We can tell stories, and get strong, and fly kites, and sing, and get strong, and fly kites...

Chapter 5 will take place on Saturday, January 13th at 4PM EST!

[phoenixduelist]

❗Beware the OFMD spoilers❗

The fact that (I fucking knew the knee shot will be when the show will be 💯 historically accurate.) Izzy's new leg is literally made from the Revenge itself, by the crew to him is the firmest metaphor I've ever seen for acceptance and family. The Revenge has literally sailed through a storm which should've sunken, destroyed it completely but it pulled through, damaged, torn but still afloat. I saw people comparing it to Ed's and Stede's relationship status, that they have something physical to rebuild and mend besides their love. Which is totally valid and I support that theory wholeheartedly! But I also like to compare the state of the Revenge to Izzy's. He lost toes, then a leg, then almost died via suicide. After all this, he still got up and saved the crew, probably also the one directing them out of the storm. So the image of a battered (and stabbed) Revenge I think can also apply to Izzy.

Okay, back to the leg. The crew made it for him after everything they had witnessed, experienced. I reckon he never had a group of people or even one to support him, to protect him; he wouldn't even have allowed it before. But now he has what he thought impossible and weakness in pirate life. The knowledge that they not only accepted him, but actively looking out for him even when the danger has passed: they aren't sailing in a storm and Edward isn't on the ship so technically, they don't need him anymore for protection or life saving orders. Yet they are still there for him and made a...relatively functioning mobility aid for him. From the ship that survived a storm thought impossible. For the indestructible little fucker. As soon as he realizes he isn't alone, the unhealthy coping mechanisms stop and he -so far- seems to be healing from everything that had happened & this wouldn't be possible without the crew's support.

Izzy both figuratively and literally became part of the ship.

[ask-orchidthemew]

take a moment to enjoy the view and bounce to the beat~

[eorzeashan]

i'm losing my dog today. i never posted about him much here, but he was and is my best friend. i'm heartbroken that he'll be crossing the rainbow bridge without me, but everything comes to an end. i'll follow someday. and then we'll meet again, where the fields are endless and the sun is always bright.

rest well, little beast.

[dunerover]

randomly generated headcanons.

Zandi is a very good singer.

∘˙○˚.• He should stick to his flute.

Zandi cracks their knuckles very loudly.

∘˙○˚.• Required. If your hand bones don't sound like a cluster of uncooked noodles being broken over a knee, they take your Fighter Badge™ away.

Zandi watches My Little Pony.

∘˙○˚.• For your information, his favorite ponies are Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie.

Zandi is afraid of doing anything without their parent's permission.

∘˙○˚.• His dad sure wishes that was true—

Zandi is an extrovert.

∘˙○˚.• Balderdash! As you all know, Zandi won't so much as peep unless approached in a manner befitting a baby bunny!

Zandi would succumb to the fog.

∘˙○˚.• Please explain. Please explain the fog. Explain the fog. Explain th

tagged by: I tagged myself

tagging: @amothersvow. You.

[colebrookstone-irl]

I have been marked by the gods

Woah

Interesting

[eldritchborn]

I think you all need to see how jarring it is every time I have Ome long rest

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

[starjynx]

Jazzy plays Genshin & cries under the cut.

MOOTS I'M FUCKING SCREAMING RIGHT NOW. In multiple people's dms mind you. I'M FINALLY CATCHING UP IN THE CHASM QUEST & I had a single pull after failing like 30 pulls prior. YOU'RE TELLING ME THIS IDIOT CAME HOME WITH A SINGLE PULL AFTER AN EMOTIONAL CHASM SCENE?? I'm so emotional right now. I have to step away. BUT LOOK WHO CAME HOME!

[araneitela]

I will honestly punt fanon like a garden gnome into the ocean of their choosing, which is the only choice that I will give them at this point. And that's only because Kafka once said, "When you have a chance to make a choice, make one that you know you won't regret." So please choose your ocean wisely.

With Elio's presence growing with the end of 2.2 (is that his voice in the credits? It's got to be, right?) I just want to present a reminder to people: There is only one character that is ever referenced by the direct title of 'Destiny's Slave', and that is Elio. None of the other Stellaron Hunters have ever been referenced by this same title or descriptor. Using it for Kafka, Blade, Silver Wolf, Sam/Firefly is wrong. And no, this isn't even my opinion that I'm forcing onto people, it's literally canonically wrong. Hell, the easiest option to verify that I'm not pulling this out of the imaginary 'Sae probably wants this to be canon' pocket, please google 'HSR Destiny's Slave' and look what pops up. Hint: it's not the Stellaron Hunters' general wiki page. Beside that, let me also present you with the IPC wanted poster:

"...Blade, Silver Wolf, Sam... The four mentioned above, dead or alive; Do not hurt the Destiny's Slave, and do not let them lose their ability of independent thinking."