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fanaticsnail · 4 months ago

Text

A day is all I need

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 6,900+

Synopsis: Serving as Trafalgar Law's chronicler aboard the Polar Tang, he convinces you to finally cast aside your former love for a man long since passed. In a bid to move on, you find an intriguing figure in the market who bore a striking resemblance to the man who held your heart.

Themes: Donquixote Rosinante x f!reader, otherworldly themes, fluff, heavy angst, hurt / comfort, love, pining, crying, sorrow, no happy ending, platonic love, confessions of love, magic, world building, unnamed OC introduction.

Notes: This is a fic that has taken me months to complete for a swap with @ghostiequill who wrote me a Rosinante foster parent au fic. I hope you enjoy this one!

The pool swirled and coiled in a rotating spiral, the water within coiling and clouding out to become vapor at the circular edge. Within the viscous pool swirled several hazy images within the waters depths. Faces shrouded by clouded light, the echo of indistinguishable voices, and a soft forlorn melody humming beneath the water beckoned all who heard the song to approach the menacing liquid.

“Why now?” a voice slapped in a reverberating purr, beckoning the tall figure closer to their arched light, “Why would you choose now, after so very long, to ask permission to return?”

Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, Rosinante stepped forward with his eyes lowered to the pool. Gazing into the depths, he witnessed a grown man with patchy, blotched skin, pierced ears, and tattoos on his chest, back, arms and fingers smiling up at a polar bear mink. Rosinante lulled his head to the side, smiling warmly with his lips in a solid line before glancing to the other side of the pool.

The image swirled and dissipated, morphing into something new and away from Trafalgar D Water-Law and his crew, and shifting into a person sitting upright and rigid at a desk. Their hand movements scratched away at a page, chronicling quests and organizing calendars while shaking off fatigue with a soft sigh.

“Why now, Rosinante? You will answer me when I speak to you,” the voice spoke, smoke and vapors clouding in a spectral mist and swelling in a clap to reveal a figure clad in a dark robe with large, dark wings protruding from his back. The figure’s hair shone like gold in direct sunlight, his face expressionless and holding an unspoken taunt behind the amber hue of his eyes.

“Forgive me, sir,” Rosinante bowed his head, closing his eyes and sinking down onto his knees with his palms clapped over his thighs. “Truth be told, I didn’t know I could ask. I thought we were only able to watch from here, not go back.” The figure offered Rosinante a soft smile, making his eyes gentle as he stepped forward with his hand extended.

“Of course you can ask,” he confirmed while gently tilting Rosinante’s head up to pierce his gaze down onto his face, “It doesn’t mean I am likely to aid you in your plight, but you can always ask.” Rosinante’s eyes held both understanding and a gentle plea behind his expression. The figure suddenly looked to the side before gently kneeling down in front of him.

“If I am to do this for you, there are a few things you should be made aware of,” he uttered in a voice just above a whisper, still gazing to the side while clutching Rosinante’s chin, “I don’t grant just anyone a trip to The Over. Many have asked, but The Over can only handle so much of this energy at once.”

Rosinante nodded along to the warning, keeping his hands firmly affixed to his thighs as the figure’s fingertips began to tingle in gentle licks of flame against his face. The wings fluttered behind the creature’s back, feathers flickered and shook with subtle ribbons of golden shimmer falling from his shrouded skin.

“There are two ways, you may choose only one,” he uttered, gently turning back his attention to Rosinante in front of him, “The first is, I allow you to visit in the form you are now: spectral in nature, but natural in appearance. You can speak with only one individual and a single touch can be granted in this form. It will only last for an hour at the most, but you will be able to accomplish all you need to to visit your person.”

The golden bob of Rosinante’s head depicted his understanding, but his eyes held a slight disappointment within his caramel orbs. The golden-haired man hummed and smiled broadly while arching his brow high.

“You seem dissatisfied with the first option, should you desire to hear the other?” he chuckled at Rosinante, gently smoothing his hand over his cheek before resting on his shoulder, “The other is a path less commonly taken.”

“Please,” Rosinante whispered, his lips parting and eyes darting between the two spectral and intimidating orbs staring into his soul, “Tell me the other.” The man smiles and shakes his head softly.

“You will borrow my wings for twelve hours,” he shrugged, his wings fluttering behind his back before falling to the ground and sweeping behind him, “A half day venturing between here and The Over at will.” Rosinante’s eyes widened, looking over the figure’s shoulder to his wings and back at to meet his gaze once more.

“Is there a catch for this option?” he asked, immediately charting a course internally to how he could travel between the realms with haste to visit the young boy once in his care, and to return to his unspoken love in The Over.

“Of course, sweet Rosinante,” the man hummed, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, “But I believe you would choose this option regardless of the consequences.”

“I believe we can both agree on that,” Rosinante gave a gentle hum, exhaling a laugh through his nose and smiling down at the pool beside them, “How soon do we begin?”

The winged man fluttered his feathers behind his back, his intimidating eyes baring through Rosinante's head and into his spirit.

“Immediately.”

Sitting in your office, you finally exhale a hefty breath you didn't realize you held within your chest. Chronicling the journey for the Polar Tang in their quest to meet up with the Straw-Hat and Kid-Pirate crews, while ensuring the rendezvous doesn't collide with maintenance and replenishment of supplies for the grand submarine, really began to take its toll on you.

You had been traveling with Law for the past twelve years, ever since he had attempted to join the Donquixote Pirates and serve Doflamingo as his right hand in training. Rosinante was quick to stifle that craving, aiding and serving him to rid himself of the amber-led poisoning, while attempting to zap the lightning desire to stay alive as opposed to longing for death.

Smiling, you turn to your desk and lift up a small pendant on your desk: a gift Law had given you when you accepted your title as ship's chronicler and professed your wishes to serve him officially. The heart-shaped locket had a small picture within, something you didn't think the sixteen-year-old Law managed to capture with the Den-Den snail shell.

Rosinante was holding your waist, sitting you on his lap with the warm light of the fireplace warmed both of your features. The way he looked up at you spoke volumes, his eyes both rounded and half-lidded, his lips parted in a soft smile, and his gaze never leaving your face as you spoke down at him.

Running your fingertips over the picture framed within the locket, you snapped it shut before tucking it within your desk drawer. You never had the chance of giving in to your emotions with Rosinante, never confessing your love for him because Law was simply too important and finding a cure for his health was a far greater need.

You had served Doflamingo since childhood, given the choice between becoming a person serving in the ‘Passion District’ of Dressrosa, or using your skills as an in depth chronicler to catalog the deeds, decrees, and contracts for Doflamingo and his crew. You chose the latter, and you were ever thankful to be given the opportunity to do so. Growing your skillset, you had become incredibly detailed in your work, and your code deciphering skills were unmatched.

You were only five years older than Law, growing and serving alongside him as he trained beneath Doflamingo to rise in the ranks. You couldn't pinpoint for sure when exactly you began to develop romantic feelings for Rosinante, the new Corazon of the Donquixote pirates, at the time.

All you knew is you never had the opportunity to confess your love and adoration for the lanky man. Your heart was his, through and through, and you had never felt the swell to match its equal since. Sure, you had taken a handful of overnight lovers from port to port, but in truth: your heart belonged to him and him alone.

Marching away from your desk with your journal clutched in your grasp, you found your captain sitting beside Bepo manning the helm.

“Captain,” you have him a curt bow before fully closing the distance, “I have the itinerary you required.” Law smiled at you, shaking your head and softly gazed lazily up at your stature.

“Chronicler,” he acknowledged, reaching out his tattooed hand and gesturing for you to pass it over to him with a soft beckoning of his hand. As you passed your journal into his hand, he softly tugged you to his side and held up his index finger in a gesture to halt your movement. You nodded your head in understanding to wait by his side, gently rotating your neck and easing the tension on your shoulders.

“You know, Chronicler,” the nasally voice of the red-headed orka-man called from beside you, “If your neck and back is still giving you trouble, I'd be happy to ease the tension you've got gathering there, or anywhere else.” You rolled your eyes and gently chastised him with your pointed gaze.

“While I am pleasantly intrigued, as always, to be on the receiving end of your flirtations, Shachi,” you gently arched your brows and looked him over from the hat on his head to the boots on his feet, “We both know that it'd be a bad idea. Also, we're both on the clock right now. You should be manning the pressure gauge, honey.”

Immediately, Shachi straightened his back and returned to work with a newfound hastened pace. You didn't ignore the barely audible chuckle falling from Law's chest, gently reaching for his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. He raised his hand to your wrist, gently cradling it against his face and offering your knuckles a swift peck.

“While I don't think Shachi would be an appropriate match for you,” he whispered, alongside the sweetness of your name on his tongue, “I do think it might be time for you to find someone. You've been wearing black for far too long.”

While your uniform was cream in color and embroidered with the dark design of Law’s Jolly Roger, you appreciated the nod to your plight of mourning for a love you never claimed. You leaned forward and offered Law a swift kiss on the forehead as he passed you back your chronicler journal.

“What do you suggest, hm?” you ask Law with a soft tease in your tone, “Find some unwitting soul and offer them a place in my bed for a night of heat and passion-?”

“-I accept!” Shachi called over his shoulder, hiding his blush beneath his hat and focussing his glasses-shrouded eyes behind his darkened glasses. You chuckled, shaking your head and pulling your hand away from Law's shoulder.

“Did you hear your name in this private conversation, Shachi?” Law growled at his red-headed crewman. Shachi shook his head with a muffled “no, sir” in response, prompting Law to bark back at him, “So mind your own business. Keep an eye on the gauge, we're about to reemerge.”

You offered a soft giggle, looking at the chroniclers journal and noting several changes Law had suggested in the margins of the calendar border, mostly to do with the duration of interaction with both Eustass Kid and Monkey D Luffy was to go on for. Shaking your head, you gently scolded him with a soft tap with your journal on his shoulder which gathered another breathy chuckle beneath his breath.

“I'm serious, you know,” he again whispered a call of your name, gently tugging at your wrist, “You deserve a chance to move on.”

“Like you did, you mean?” you offer Law a knowing look, gesturing with your pointed gaze down at his chest tattoo, “Heart Pirates, the Jolly Roger, the feathers in your pullover. Of the both of us, who truly needs to move on?” He scoffed at you, pouting and crossing his arms.

“That's different. I'm honoring him,” he gently mumbled, your body slowly stopping forward and reaching down to squeeze at his knee.

“In my own way, so am I,” you whisper down at him, “But I will try for you, captain.” Offering him a more intentional kiss on the forehead before returning to the base of the Polar Tang porthole window with Ikkaku, you thought on the words your oldest friend offered you.

You had been mourning the tall man for upwards of ten years, no longer the woman you once were and now fully embracing the identity you carved for yourself as a pirate. You pictured what would've come of Rosinante if he had survived.

He would be thirty-nine years old, would be still wear his face paint? Would his hair be worn in the same style? Would he have joined you and Law and embrace a life of piracy, or rejoin the ranks of Marines? All questions that you would never know the answer to. Nor would you know how he would've responded to your confessions of love.

As you docked at port and settled the three crews in together, you gave Law a gentle nod to excuse yourself from the meeting to resupply the ship with the essentials. Penguin was to accompany you a little later, after he managed to swap stories and recipes with Sanji and Killer; the chef's of the other two crews.

Humming a soft tune from the days long since forgotten, you sift through a variety of ingredients at the local flora and fauna shop, enjoying the scents and looking at a large assortment of carnations. The one that took your eye the most was the soft, pastel pink bordering the crimson hue of the droopy leaf.

“Carnations from Dressrosa?” you asked the shopkeeper, prompting him to turn to face you.

“We got a shipment over the past week. Worth a pretty berry now, considering it's being shipped out by King Riku Doldo III,” he commented, ushering you closer into the shop and urging your basket onto the trolley, “While he's done a lot of good for the kingdom of Dressrosa, after the former king was dethroned and rotting in impel down, he's not as passionate about flower production as the Donquixote was.”

You offer him a soft, forced smile at the comment, knowing intimately well how much Doflamingo truly enjoyed flowers. It reminded him of his mother, and it was disclosed to you in one of his drunken stupors that he desired to fill the castle with carnations as a memorial to her kindness.

“I'll just take what's in the basket, sir,” you nodded to him, offering a handful of Berry to claim your remedies, perfumes and spices. He nodded, placing them in a canvas bag and handing over your change and receipt.

As you moved to turn on your heel and away from the shop, you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder and urged you to turn to face the source of the wandering touch. Before you had the opportunity to meet their gaze, you saw the familiar petals of red and pink from the waving curls of leaf.

“You forgot this,” the deep baritone softly called over to you, gently tugging it down to reveal their soft eyes to you. You darted your eyes between his, inquisitively mapping his face with your gaze. “If I may?” he softly gestured to your hair, raising the flower up to your ear.

Softly nodding, you curiously accepted the gift of a flower in your hair as he tucked the petals into the crevice of your ear. Your eyes never left his face, finding something familiar in his gaze and a familiar softness in his touch.

“Thank you, mister…?” you lulled your head to the side and looked from his whiskered chin up to his war-torn eyes.

“You can call me…” his eyes seemed to search yours with a foreign pleading, “...anything you want, love. I'm not fussy.” You arch your brow and scoff at the unbridled flirtation, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

“Alright then, smartass. Keep your secrets,” you step away from his touch and turn to make your way back to the market square where you suspect to be meeting with Penguin in a few hours.

“Smartass?” he mumbled in a soft, appalled whisper, “That hardly seems an appropriate choice.” You click your tongue while biting back a growing smirk.

“Any reason you're choosing not to give me your name?” you ask without turning to face him, eyeing off several of the fresh produce and marking the better priced goods for services in your journal.

“Why, is there something wrong with yours?” he smiled at you, gently sifting through the fruits and finding several varieties of citrus. You offer him a lopsided smile of surprise, your tongue toying with your molars as you stare at him in awe.

Using this soft moment of silence, you gently rake your eyes over his form. He was tall with lengthy legs, his back long and shoulders broad. His blonde hair hung in loose curls over his head and tied back by a piece of pink leather, his beard shrouding his lips was manicured in a light and maintained scruff.

“Who are you?” you asked him, folding your arms over your chest and analyzing him further.

“Just a man journeying the crossroads of life and death,” he shrugged, lifting an orange in his grip and offering the vendor his Berry.

“Can you be any more vague?” you arch your brow up and narrow your eyes at him. He turned to face you, his expression mirroring yours in a soft mocking demeanor.

“Can you be any more intrusive?” he laughed back at you. Your smile all but fled your face, your brows downturning and lip curling in an appalled pout.

“Fine,” you shrug, reaching up and taking the flower between your index and middle fingers and offered it to him. He was taken aback, looking between you and the flower before slowly reaching his larger hands out and taking the flower between his index and middle fingers from you.

As he placed the stem between his fingers, a soft moment of familiarity washed over you in a crashing wave. The small gesture felt like passing a hidden cigarette with Rosinante after all the crew had fallen asleep, passing notes well into the cryptid hours and swapping stories of your adventures.

Before you had the opportunity to turn fully away, he raised the flower back up to your face and darted his eyes over your form with an expression of forlorn longing.

“This is yours,” he whispered, gesturing to the vibrant flower in his fingers, “Please, keep it.” Softly pouting up at him, you nodded in a subtle bob and allowed him to once again place the flower in the crook of your ear.

His smile seemed all-too familiar, but no matter how your heart yearned to place a name to his face, you refused to give in to the intrusive thought.

“I'm going to go back to my crew now,” you assess him with your gaze, shrugging off your inhibitions and biting back your nerves, “Did you want to join us for dinner with the lot of them? My captain won't mind, I assure you.” The man seemed to stiffen and back straighten in a rigid beam.

“Are you inviting me back to meet your crew?” he asked inquisitively, his gaze dating over your eyes and face as he assessed your intentions.

“If you don't want to, that's all you had to say,” you scoff, turning back to the produce and marking another symbol over the page, “No need to be rude about it, Smartass.”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” he chuckled nervously, softly placing his hand on your wrist to halt you, “Please, let me join you. I just-... I didn't expect you to extend an invite back to meet your family at the offer of a simple flower.”

“Well, you caught me in a moment of weakness,” you tug your wrist away from his grip, softly scolding him with your eyes and turning your body away but holding your gaze against him, “A weakness I won't be willing to extend again in a hurry-.”

“-Please,” he halted you with his gentle, careful whisper, “I'll stop, I'll behave. I was just being playful. It's-... It's been a while.” You shake your head, offering him a soft smile.

“It's been a while for me since I've received such an intentional pursuit too,” you offer him, giving him a soft, tight-lipped and sheepish smile, “I tend not to lean in, but my captain gave me a little push earlier today. This is what my new leaf looks like, believe it or not.”

Your companion gave you a soft grin, a knowing look found in his eyes as he offered you his arm and clutched the assembling bag of groceries you ordered on behalf of Penguin.

The questions fleeing from his lips, from what your current passions and hobbies were, to your family and crew felt organic and natural in each fluid sentence. It felt like you were talking to an old friend, his caramel eyes holding something within that seemed truly familiar and all-knowing.

His smile never left his face, the softness found in his expression was soothing and almost dreamy. You felt your heart swell the longer you spent with him.

As you rejoined the crew, you introduced him to your friends and comrades as, “The Smartass.” He didn't seem to correct you, only offering a soft smile and holding up his hands defensively and confirming the soft title.

The glare from your captain to your blonde guest never left him, feeling as perplexed as you were the longer you held discussion with him. You gently excused yourself from your guest and moved over to your captain's side.

The bearded stranger laughed alongside the Heart-Pirates, enjoying a few lengthy monologues from Bepo and balancing the soft teasing from both Shachi and Penguin with fluid-like ease. He was a natural, and it was unnerving to witness such ease and rapport from a stranger to the crew.

Sitting down beside Law, you looked down at him and gently nudged him with your shoulder.

“Does he seem familiar to you?” you asked Law, gently nudging your shoulder with him. “He kind of looks like-.”

“-Don’t say it,” Law growled below his breath, “It can't be. He's dead. Don't, and this is the last I'll speak on it, you hear?” You gave him a gentle nod, excusing yourself from his side and gently bowing out to leave the table.

“I understand,” you whisper quietly, softly pressing your lips to his temple and turning away, “Give my best to our guest. I think it's better if I just bow out now before I say something stupid.”

“I didn't mean-,” Law began, turning to face you and reaching his hand out towards you, only to stop as your words covered his.

“-Goodnight, Law. I'll see you in the morning, okay?” you gently smile at him, softly upturning your eyes as they meet with the ground in a stopped bow. “If both foreign captain's offer you any trouble, send them my way and I'll sort them out.”

“And your new friend, the smartass?” he asked you in a soft growl, “What you want me to do with him?” You shook your head, softly smiling at the way the blonde was gesturing and speaking with animated gusto with Penguin, Shachi and Bepo while they all sat and ate their dinner.

“He seems rather involved with whatever is going on over there,” you confess in an amused hum, “If he's too much trouble, send him away. If not, enjoy him. I'll be in my quarters.” You gently turn towards your guest, nodding to him to excuse yourself with a polite smile.

He snaps away from his conversation and begins to move to stand with a subtle urgency in his step. Shaking your head, you urge him to stay and giggle in response to his soft fluster. His eyes darted between yours, softly slinking back to his seat and looking up at you with his eyes rounded and innocent.

Once away from the troop, your bearded guest turned his sights onto your captain and gave him a gentle smile. A smile Law knew all too well.

A phrase from the past, a momentum of the friendship he had with the heart of the Donquixote pirates, the smile that held everything in its soft emotion.

“If you ever think of me in the future, I want you to remember me smiling.”

Law immediately sprung up from his seat, kicking the discarded stool behind him and marched over to the blonde guest while uncaring as to who saw.

“You're not him,” he barked down at the blonde man, Law's eyes wide and feral in nature, “You're not. I won't believe it. This is some trick, some cruel gamble.” The blonde man held out his hand defensively, gently attempting to soothe him and repress his fiery temper with a soft gesture.

“Listen, kid,” the man softly whispered, his eyes rounded and feigning innocence, “You need to keep calm.”

Law’s eyes widened as his heart caught in his throat, immediately raising his hand and calling for both, “Room,” and “Shambles,” to give the two of them a moment of privacy to talk.

Blissfully ignorant and consumed with your own plight and struggle to withhold your emotions, you simply dove back into chronicling in your journal to cast aside your comparative narration regarding your new potential lover.

Several hours had passed, your mind finding escape within your pages enough to remove your memory from the dull ache reawakening your love for a man lost to you. Shaking your head, you gently coax all thoughts aside from work from your mind. Carving words in code onto your page, you gently discarded several blemishes from your divider and slouched back into your seat.

A gentle knock on your doorframe calls you away from your work, prompting you to look up and witness the lanky form smiling at you in the threshold of your room.

“Law said I'd find you here,” your guest hummed teasingly at you. You turned your whole body around in your swiveling chair and lulling your head to the side, “He's a fine young man, you've done so well with him.”

“Excuse me?” you arch your brow, scoffing at him and eyeing him up and down, “Do I look like his mother?” The guest all but slipped and tumbled unceremoniously against the doorframe, mumbling his apologies and stuttering.

“N-No, I just. He said-... didn't you-? Did you-?” he continued to relay, tripping and stumbling within your office and causing your brow to arch up and your lips to purse.

“Slow down before you fall over more than your words and your feet,” you shake your head, gesturing with your hands to welcome him in, “Come on in, make yourself at home.�� He smiled up at you, gently walking in and collecting himself.

“What I meant to say was,” he straightened up his pale shirt and fixed the seams at his wrists, “I spoke in depth with your captain. He's grateful to have you still with him after all this time, and all you've been through together.” You look down your nose at him, puzzled by the words he's producing, the flurry seeming more cryptic than ever.

“Oh, and how did you manage to coax that out of him, I wonder?” you scoff, folding your arms over your chest and offering him a scolding look. He raised his hands defensively, remaining silent to the cause and always gentle in his movements.

“Call it ‘shared history’, if you like,” he offered, shrugging his shoulders and biting back a soft smirk. You rolled your eyes, gazing over to your desk and finding your gaze immediately drawn to the locket you drew out for comfort earlier.

“A friend of yours?” he asked, his head tilting to the side and reaching for it with his thumb and middle fingers. While you would normally halt such a touch to something so personal, your heart clenched firmly as you forced yourself to stop.

As he held it up to his face, his eyes held a sense of purity you thought you almost recognised. He rolled the pad of his thumb over the piece, his face seeming to hold himself back from saying something he felt he shouldn’t.

“He was my best friend,” you confessed in a soft whisper, turning your face away from him to gaze down at your boiler suit uniform. Avoiding his gaze seemed to spur you on, your soul screaming at you to talk about your emotions with a non biased party. Taking a shaky inhale, you gulped back and poised a question to your guest.

“Would you mind if I spoke about him?” your voice was almost too quiet, but your question was answered immediately by your guest with an urgency you could almost laugh at.

“Please.”

You fought back a shaky laugh at his haste, gently rising a smile to your lips while continuing to peer down at your uniform. Your guest, the smartass, was really growing on you, and you were grateful he allowed you the freedom to use him to pour your heart out about your lost love.

“He was… everything to me” you began at the beginning, your smile beginning to shake at the corners, “Although we didn’t speak for some time, his selective mutism ensured that - a long story.” You held your hands up defensively while you moved your head to gaze out of the window.

“He always listened when I needed him to. And… When he told me the truth, about who and what he was,” you bit the inside of your bottom lip to halt your emotion from swelling to full intensity, “He told me to stay behind, remain bound to the desk beneath the whim and thumb of his older brother.” You snuck a look at your guest to gauge his reaction, his back remained turned to you.

“I said ‘no’.”

Your guest chuckled at your comment, his shoulders shaking with a clumsy laugh. His laugh was contagious, mixing with yours as it fell effortlessly from your lips. Even his laugh held that familiarity to you, and you felt at ease with his close proximity.

“Why did you go with him, if you don’t mind me asking?” he queried, the small chirp in his question felt innocent and prompted you to smile a little wider, “Was it the boy? Your captain spoke to me about it a little.”

“Law was sick,” you nodded to him, “But that wasn’t why I came with him. I… I was…” You steadied yourself, gently taking in a large breath and breathing out steadily, “I was so, desperately in love with him, I couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving without me. Selfish, I know.” You shrugged, watching the man’s back as he continued to stare down at the image of you and your heart within the warm light.

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” his voice fell from his lips in a soft whisper. “Why didn’t you ever tell him?”

“Who’s to say I didn’t?” you giggled in response, toying with the sleeves of your boiler suit before rising to your feet. Walking over to stand beside the taller man, you don’t move to gaze up at him, only peering at the locket in his hand, “I told him I loved him every day.”

“How?” the question left his lips before you uttered the last syllable of your former sentence. This prompted you to snap your gaze up and meet his eyes as they bore themselves into the image within the frame.

Truly taking him in, really studying him, you could see the melancholy in his face. The soft creases in the corners of his eyes, soft pucker lines from cigarette addiction, the scruff of blonde and silver in his beard, and the soft curls framing his face. He was so beautiful, you felt yourself becoming lost in his presence. The deep sadness swelling within his chest escaped from within, littering his cheeks with a slow outpour of emotion from his eyes.

“In the little things,” you nodded to him, placing your hand over the locket and gently holding the stranger’s hands, “In the way I made his coffee, in the blanket I’d draw over his chest to keep him warm while I kept watch. In how I would clear up the rum bottles to hide from Law, and in the soft touch I would sneak with him.”

Rolling your thumb on the back of the stranger’s hand, you demonstrated the initiation of a gentle and innocent touch.

“He probably didn’t read much into the actions, but this is how I showed it,” you shrugged, stilling your motions and holding your hand still in his. His other hand timidly reached up to withdraw the flower from your ear and fiddled with it in his fingertips. You sighed softly, truly enjoying being able to rid yourself of the burden caging your heart with him.

“Do you know what my favorite part of today was?” he asked, a softness in his eyes and his heart pressed on his sleeve. He finally shifted his vision from your hands to your own eyes, darting between them gently.

“Tell me, Smartass,” you smirk at him, gently caressing his bearded cheek with your unoccupied hand, and smoothing your thumb over his jaw. In a bid to return playfulness rather than heavy conversation about love and loss with him, “What was your favorite part?”

Placing the flower down on your desk, he removed his hand from yours and softly returned the locket to its former position. In just those actions alone, you could’ve seen that same man you were speaking of within him - but that could’ve been that hope you spoke of moment’s prior with Law.

His hands now bare reached towards you, gently drawing you closer to him and pressing his forehead against yours while stooping low. You closed your eyes on impact, almost expecting a kiss from the stranger but happy to sit in his presence and share breaths with him. Spectral golden dust began to surround his body, pooling at his back and spilling down to fall at his feet, prompting his anxiety to rise and propel him to confess.

“I had the chance to fall in love with you all over again.”

Your shock was evident on your face, your eyes widening at witnessing the otherworldly transformation of the man in front of you.

“Rosinante?” you choke back your sob, the swell in your chest threatening to burst and force tears from your eyes immediately. Pulling away from his forehead, his face morphed with the aid of the golden dust and shedded his beard and shortened his hair.

“I'm here,” he whispered, softly reaching down and claiming your hands within his own, “And I'll be waiting for you thereafter. Always.”

Your heart burst at seeing the young man once more, makeup on his features and that smile you loved splitting up his face. Every emotion burst in your chest and flooded your cheeks with warm, heavy tears. The unspoken questions of how, why, when, what, and who couldn’t release from your lips regarding his ethereal presence: especially now with the presentation of large, black wings in lieu of his cloaked jacket.

His body began to fade, the light shining in your eyes prompted you to squint to continue to gaze at him. Instead of asking the questions that plagued you, and leading truly with your heart, you managed to stutter out an articulation of your sorrow.

“How can I move on without you? How can I live without you, Corazon?” you whimper out, gently reaching up and surging your head forward to meet his chest, “What should I-...? How can I-...? I can't-... Please, I can't move on without you-.”

“-Whichever person you welcome into your heart next, mi amor,” he whispered calmly, softly pressing his lips to your forehead and fighting the urge to release his own tears, “Rest assured, my heart is big enough to hold them with you too.”

“Corazon-.”

“-I love you.”

Your cabin split with a flash of gold, a flutter of black wings was all that echoed as you were once again left alone with your thoughts. All that remained was gratitude that you had what little time stolen from you from the beyond, and the hope that you would see him again one day.

Once your tears dried up, and you deemed yourself appropriate enough to explore the corridors and halls of the Polar Tang, you would find your Captain in much a similar shape as you were. His face was stained with emotion, his eyes red and puffy while his heart was lighter than it had been for some time.

“Did you see him, or was it all a dream?” he asked you, using the back of his sleeve to clear his cheeks of their spillage.

“I saw him,” you nodded, immediately moving over to him and circling your arms around his shoulders to soothe him, “And we will see him again.”

Law nodded into your chest hastily before his lips began to huff out heavy sobs. You never dreamed of hushing him through it, feeling the tension boil over in your own heart and beginning to mourn for your lost love all over again.

“He said he was proud of me,” Law whimpered, his hands grasping the back of your boiler suit in heavy fistfuls, “And he loved us both so much.” You nodded, burying your eyes into the mop of dark hair at the crown of his head.

For the next several moments, you both allowed one another to sob openly in the comfort of each other’s arms. The tightness in your chest felt itself becoming untethered the longer you clung to one another. After allowing yourselves the time you needed to calm down, you softly whispered into your captain’s hair.

“I know I don’t tell you enough with my words,” you rubbed his back and gave him a reassuring squeeze, “I love you, Law, as much as one friend could love another. I would follow you anywhere, as my captain and as my friend.”

Law held onto you further, his bottom lip quivering at the beginning of a rise of fresh emotions.

“Stay with me?” he asked innocently, “Just like we did all those years ago?”

“Of course,” you nod, pressing a kiss to his temple and holding him firmer against yourself, “For as long as you need.”

For the next few weeks, the two of you would become as inseparable as you once were all those years ago. You were a comfort to one another, and that was all you needed to be until you were ready to part from shared quarters.

“You will look as if the years were never taken from you, a body that should’ve been yours should you have lived,” the winged Avariel confessed to Rosinante with a gentle hum in his tone, “They will likely not recognise you, regardless of how you dress and present yourself.”

“They will still know you as the man you once were, even in the form you are now, you will be familiar to them,” the man removed his cowl, offering it to Rosinante with open hands, “But you are not permitted to give your name in any form. No “Corazon”, no “Rosinante”, no “Donquixote”. If your name is spoken, you will return to me immediately.”

The blonde nodded his head, his heart beginning to stir and vibrate in longing. His gut clenched, his breath slowly returning to him as an ethereal ray swirled from the pool around his body.

“You will only have this day, and this day alone,” The figure stepped closer in, donning the wings on Rosinante’s back while pressing his forehead against the blonde’s own. “You will never be able to do this again, and remain here with me in The Under until you are reunited with those you love at the waters.”

Rosinate felt his body shift and change, age weathering his features. The sprouts of scruffy hair on his chin had his eyes begin to pool over with a bittersweet sorrow. He had always wanted a beard, but his marine lifestyle and his presence with the Donquixote Pirates required him to remain neat and tidy until he served his purpose. Knowing, should he have lived, he would’ve had a beard growing shaggily on his face meant he would’ve chosen a life of freedom and piracy. Before he came too involved with the way he looked, the figure spoke to him once more.

“Do you understand, Rosinante?”

“A day is all I need, sir” he confirmed with a soft whisper, clapping the wings onto his back and donning the shrouded cowl with a gentle clap over his chest to honor the otherworldly man, “All I'll ever need.”

“I just need to tell them how proud I am of them,” he whispered, feeling life return to him with the flutter of darkened wings firmly shaking to life, “And tell them both how much they meant to me.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

#one piece #x reader #fic swapping #Donquixote Rosinante #Donquixote corazon #rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #one piece x reader #one piece angst #x f!reader #heart pirates

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professorcalculusstanaccount · 2 years ago

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Tintin through time!

Thought it would be fun to have my various designs for Tintin in one post. The canon comics have a floating timeline and Tintin never ages. I think rooting him in a specific time and context makes him feel a little more real (also I am a sucker for historical fiction). Click below for a potted timeline and notes about each design!

Left to right, top to bottom:

Child - in my timeline Tintin was born in 1915, a year into the First World War. He was probably picked on a lot by his peers for being small, ginger and slightly effeminate, and was picked on by adults for being “difficult” and asking too many questions.

Early canon - He leaves school early and becomes a reporter at 14. He’s unhinged, he’s blasé, he dresses like Spongebob. Coming right out of Catholic school he has a lot of unhealthy beliefs he needs to confront and unlearn. I imagine his editor is a pretty shady person as they are willing to send this kid off to dangerous places. His naivety prevents him from spotting any red flags at first.

Late canon - Tintin as we know him! His journalism career is at its peak at the tender age of 17. He’s found a family and stability at Marlinspike. His politics are evolving. He is, however, pretty neglectful of his own personal life, almost fully focusing on his career. He’s starting to grow wary of his editor and they frequently argue, Tintin often winning out as he knows it’s his articles that sell papers.

Young adult - With the Second World War breaking out this is an unstable time in his life. He’s come to terms with being gay but is fired from his paper after being forcibly outed. Tintin and the Marlinspike team take fighting fascism into their own hands.

For his design here he wears a turtleneck like Captain Haddock, glasses like Professor Calculus (also representing a renewed perspective on things) and his hair is more relaxed like Chang’s! The idea was to show how he has been impacted by the people he cares about.

After the war ends he struggles with unemployment and burnout, insecure that he might have peaked as a teenager.

Middle aged - It’s the late 50s - early 60s, Tintin is jaded and cynical but still kind and willing to help others. He is absolutely horrified by the events of WW2 and carries an enormous sense of guilt, feeling he didn’t do enough. His faith in journalism has also been thoroughly shaken, witnessing the spectacular failing of the system himself, and realising there are people who genuinely do not care for the truth, and are only concerned with power.

Elderly - if he somehow makes it to old age he’d be a chaotic little old man who doesn’t give a Single Shit. It’s the late 80s and early 90s, at this point he has retired from journalism and has published his own books, and has taken to becoming a full time political activist (here he’s wearing an AIDS awareness ribbon from 1991, in the 70s Herge had Tintin wear a helmet displaying a symbol for nuclear disarmament). Kids adore him, cops hate him!

He has taken to technology, being an early adopter of the Internet and desktop computers. He and Chang have since been able to reunite with Chang’s family and they often spend time with Didi’s grandkids!

I don’t know what would kill him. Old age? A car bomb? Maybe he falls over badly and bangs his head one last time. I don’t think it’s my place to decide.

#fanart #tintin #adventures of tintin #photoset #headcanon #historical fashion #might do this again for other characters!#professor calculus would be very interesting to research for #homophobia mention

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10piecechickennuggy · 1 year ago

Text

Happy Birthday, Captain - Law x Fem!Reader - Oneshot

DISCLAIMER: I do not own One Piece or the art featured above. This is a fan created work.

Y/n stared at the calendar, uncertainty wavering through her stomach and causing nervous bouts of nausea. In her lap sat a beautifully wrapped box, its yellow speckled paper adorned with a brightly colored bow. Trembling fingers toyed with the shiny ribbon, bending it slightly as a sigh fell from painted lips.

October sixth. The date mocked her from across the room, circled with enthusiasm and boasting in large penmanship “Captain’s Birthday!”

It had taken several of her crewmates’ begging, along with her own, to convince their grumpy captain to agree to any sort of celebration.

“It’s just another day. There’s no need to make a big fuss over my aging.”

She could still hear his gruff voice as the scene replayed in her memory. After enough pestering, he’d finally relented to a small gathering in the Polar Tang’s mess hall accompanying tonight’s dinner. There would be a cake prepared by the ship’s cook, Jean Bart, and everyone intended to present a gift of some sort. But the sleep deprived captain had adamantly refused any additional festivities.

That was all right though. Being able to celebrate his birthday, no matter how grandiose or quiet, was all that mattered. She hoped that despite his initial refusal, she’d be able to make this day a special one for him.

“Ouch!” Stinging pain erupted from her fingertip that had been manipulating the ribbon. Looking down she saw crimson begin to pool lazily on the skin’s surface, threatening to overflow onto the pristine wrapping below.

Quickly, she stood and placed the box down before rushing out of her bedroom. Hurried footsteps carried her towards the sickbay, the injured finger having been thrust into her mouth instinctually. The taste of metal coated her tongue.

Entering the room, she immediately began searching for the first aid kit. Cabinets were opened and rummaged through one handed before a cough brought her attention to the desk tucked along the room’s far wall.

Turning with a sheepish expression, she smiled around the digit still held between her lips. Golden eyes framed in dark circles bore a quizzical look as her captain stood from his seat. A sigh of indignation escaped Law as tattooed hands removed a pair of glasses from atop his nose before placing them, folded neatly, beside the open medical textbook he’d been studying.

“What have you done this time?” His tone was not unlike a parent’s - energy lacking and patience worn thin by far too many demands.

Her eyes dropped to the floor as the finger was removed from her mouth, fresh blood seeping from the open wound within seconds of air exposure. “Just a paper cut.” She held the injured digit up for him to inspect.

Law’s expression morphed from one of annoyance to a softer look. He moved past his subordinate swiftly, opening a cabinet she’d yet to search and withdrawing a package of bandages.

The Surgeon of Death. Dr. Heart Stealer. Trafalgar D. Water Law. Captain of the Heart Pirates. He went by many names, some more appealing than others. But to her, he was simply her beloved captain.

As he reached up once more to close the cabinet door, she felt her eyes wander south. Those spotted jeans were quite tight, leaving little to the imagination.

“See something you like, Y/n-ya?”

Her gaze snapped up immediately, a deep blush overtaking her features. He’d caught her, and the look he wore only added to her embarrassment. She couldn’t decide which was more enticing; to wipe that smug smirk from his face or kiss it. Her brows furrowed in annoyance.

Of course she harbored romantic feelings for her captain. Who wouldn’t? The man was tall, dark, and handsome. A dedicated doctor, a skilled fighter, and a fearless leader. If only he wasn’t so painfully aware of his own charms.

“Shut up.” She sounded like a child as she turned away from him, her arms crossed and cheeks puffed out in mock defiance. Law only chuckled as he took her hand in his, gently wrapping a bandage around her injured digit.

“Careful with the attitude.” A brief pause elapsed, the man seemingly mulling over his words. “I’d hate it if I had to punish you.” His voice betrayed his shit eating grin.

A playful gasp escaped the woman’s lips as she yanked her hand away, clutching the appendage close to her chest. “I am very well behaved, thank you.”

“Is that right?” A devious glint formed in his eyes as he moved closer to his companion. When she’d backed into the wooden desk, muscular arms seized the opportunity to trap her against the large surface. Leaning in close, Law growled before speaking into her ear with a husky tone. “Then maybe I should reward you instead.”

What was happening? Her captain had never shown such interest in her before, nor had he ever made any type of advance on her. Was checking out his ass really all it took to break his stoic demeanor?

“Umm, Captain?” She looked up at him with wide, doe eyes. Trying her best to look innocent, thick lashes fluttered beneath raised eyebrows. She’d hoped to confess her feelings during tonight’s birthday celebration, but this was completely unexpected.

As if being awoken from a trance, Law shook his head before backing away from his subordinate. “Sorry, Y/n-ya.” He rubbed the back of his neck while directing his gaze anywhere but at her. “I don't know what came over me. Please, just forget that anything happened.”

Was he hurt? Had she misread his intentions? No. He was obviously trying to make a move on her, and she’d chosen to react surprised instead of receptive. But more than that, was her captain being vulnerable with her right now?

“Hey.” A gentle hand came to rest on the man’s arm, bringing his attention down to her smiling face. “I was just a little surprised.”

At her admission, Law’s eyes morphed from guilty to hopeful. Seeing this change, an idea popped into the woman’s mind. “Would you like one of your gifts a little early?”

Confusion crossed Law’s features for the briefest of moments before his companion lifted to her tiptoes and gently pressed her lips to his. The kiss was soft, careful - as though she were afraid anything more would cause the man before her to crumble. She lingered for only a second or two, but the affection she expressed in that small span seeped into Law’s soul like a burning flame. Her retreat began before he could even think to kiss her back.

When she pulled away and allowed her feet to fall flat, there was a deep blush covering both their faces. The pair remained silent like, her hand still on his arm and their forms a breath away. Their gazes were locked, conveying a million emotions and sentiments without a single word.

And then Law smiled.

Not his usual smirk. Not a smug grin. But a true, genuine smile.

“Happy Birthday, Captain.” Her words came as a timid whisper, afraid to break this pristine moment they’d created.

“Happy birthday, indeed.”

***

“For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good fellow! For he’s a jolly good fellow! Which nobody can deny!”

The Heart Pirates sang loudly, a chorus of off-key voices echoing throughout the Polar Tang’s metal halls. The mess hall had been decorated with banners and balloons, confetti strewn about and music playing in the background. A table had been set to one side, hosting a large pile of gifts and sweets, centered around a large cake reading “Happy Birthday!” In yellow and blue frosting.

The man in question currently sat before his entire crew, a conical hat strapped to his head and a scowl of disapproval painted across his face. His ears were ringing as a result of their awful singing. His stomach hurt from all the cake they’d made him eat. And the damned hat he’d been forced to wear was causing a massive headache. When would this annoying celebration end?

“Captain! You should open your presents now!” Bepo’s voice was full of enthusiasm as he brought a pile of wrapped gifts to his friend.

Law took the first package and thanked the polar bear before opening it.

“That’s from me!” Shachi spoke through the crowd, his anticipation palpable.

When the bright red paper had been removed, Law held a small stuffed bear with the Heart Pirates’ jolly roger embroidered onto its chest. The bear looked similar to Bepo, though its white fur wasn’t nearly as soft as the real thing.

“Thanks.” Law’s tone was flat as he sat the toy down and reached for another present.

Many of the crew had gotten him gifts that were surprisingly thoughtful. Ikkaku had gifted him new cleaning supplies for his sword. Penguin had gotten him a new lab coat with his name and Jolly roger printed across the breast pocket. Even the stuffed animal from Shachi was right up his alley - though he’d never admit aloud his love for all things soft and fuzzy.

When it came time to open Bepo’s present, Law was met with a new hat. It looked similar to his old, circular brimmed one. though this new hat more closely resembled a baseball cap. The fabric was the same soft, speckled design he was fond of. Without a word, he removed his current headwear and replaced it.

“Me next! Me next!” Y/n came forward carrying her gift to Law. Bright yellow paper mimicked the submarine’s exterior and the spots splattered across it were reminiscent of his hat and jeans.

Law took the box gingerly, surprised when it was heavier than he’d anticipated. He raised an eyebrow in puzzled amusement before noticing the woman’s stance.

She bore a wide smile, her eyes dancing with anticipation. As though her energy were too great for her body to contain, she hopped lightly from one foot to the other. The sound made a little tip tap with each step against the steel floor.

Law couldn’t help but chuckle at her childlike excitement.

Placing the hefty gift onto the table, Law removed the wrapping and couldn’t believe what lay before him. There, sitting on the table in pristine condition sat the complete saga of Sora, Warrior of the Sea. The plastic shrink wrap still clung to each volume, catching the fluorescent lights in streaks of artificial shine.

“How-?” He was speechless. He hadn’t told anyone of his near obsession with the comics. Sure, every kid in the North Blue knew of the fictional battles between Sora and Germa 66. But they were in the Grand Line - most of his crew were from scattered parts of the world and wouldn’t even know the series existed.

His heart swelled at the amount of love and care his entire crew had shown him through their gifts.

“I saw you eyeing it a few islands ago.” She spoke with a smile on her face, knowing she’d struck gold.

“Thank you, Y/n.” Law spoke from his heart, the awe and appreciation he felt evident. He quickly rose and pulled her into a hug, leaving the entire crew stunned.

For the second time that day, the woman found herself uttering three words which she hoped conveyed her feelings as they reached her captain.

“Happy Birthday, Captain.”

#trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgardwaterlaw #trafalgar one piece #one piece #trafalgar law #fluff #birthday #one piece oneshots #oneshot #romance #x reader #trafalgar law x y/n

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starrysharks · 1 year ago

Text

alright, here it is: ZENO'S COLOR GUIDE 3.0 !

here, i'll have three "chapters" regarding color:

CH1: how i color in illustrations

CH2: color and character design (in zeno's case)

CH3: how zeno makes his colors cooler

CH1: HOW I COLOR IN ILLUSTRATIONS

it must be noted that, as of lately, i heavily use halftones in my art and the way i use them for gradients effects my color choices. of course you don't need to use halftones if you don't want to, as it's just my personal choice, but anything regarding halftones here could (probably) also apply to regular gradients!

when choosing colors in an illustration, i usually have three things in mind: mood, character, and contrast. we'll be using "gloomy bunny naptime" as an example here.

MOOD: what's the vibe of the piece? for example, here in "gloomy bunny naptime", wanted a mellow, sleepy vibe, so purples and pinks seemed like the best choice. these colors also have a dreamy effect due to being common in real-life early mornings/summer nights - basically, i tend to use associative colors in illustrations.

i usually only use a pallete of 3-7 colors, though of course more characters calls for more colors. for multi-character pieces, i would actually make a "rainbow" of colors based on the mood of the piece - essentially, a bank of colors to use for your colorful casts based on the actual rainbow. you can alter this based on the saturation levels you want! hope that makes sense. i'm not the best at this though, so i would heavily recommend looking for guides from artists who are more skilled in that department.

CHARACTER: velvet is the focus of the piece, and as a character her palette is made up of many purples and pinks. of course, it's easier because she and ribbon both have similar designs, but i would still recommend using colors based on/complementary to the focus character's pallete, though this is a rule that can and should be broken if needed. gradients can be used to provide a smooth transition from color-to-color and add depth to the piece, as well as showcase velvet's pallete. when making any gradient, you probably want to have a vibrant middle color. this is difficult to achieve in most art programs, so i'd do it like this:

you can use gradients in lots of cool ways to make stuff pop! (i think this collage shows i use too much purple and pink though.)

CONTRAST: the context of the piece also aids the color through contrast. (that's a lot of Cs!)- we see that velvet is just waking up, and the light from her switch is glowing brightly. i wanted to convey something like her switch suddenly turning on in the middle of the night, waking her up - so the console emits "light" in the form of illuminating the contrasting color of pink against the purples. it might seem specific to this piece, but what i'm trying to say is that contrasting colors can lead the eye to the focal point of the piece, that being velvet herself. because a great deal of the rest of the piece is dark, we look at the contrasting switch screen - the brightest thing in frame - and our eyes move around and up to take in the focal point character. at least that's how i wanted it to be ;w; i guess you could convey it as something like this?

CH2: COLOR AND CHARACTER DESIGN (IN ZENO'S CASE)

this is where i start to get annoying, so stand back! when deciding on colors for a cast of characters, there are many factors: time period, variety, personality, and more that i can't think of.

TIME PERIOD: this one is simple. for example, a futuristic time period (such as that in x-calibur) calls for colder colors, such as greens and blues. for characters involved in futuristic professions such as space exploration, this works incredibly well. for modern time periods, less focus can be on colors and more on the shapes of the clothes, but this is not a shapes tutorial! i don't have any ancient times oc stories, but i'd probably use earthy and warm tones.

VARIETY: this is also rather simple. i try to be aware of the palletes that i used, and the similarities they might have with other characters. i try to use similar colors for characters who belong to certain organisations or have a uniform, but of course, it's not like catholic school students adhere their entire look to their uniform, so this is a rule that can be broken yet again. art is all about learning things and breaking them, remember that!!!

color can also be used for symbolism. my absolute fav example for this is vivica and octavia - the amount of red in their designs is supposed to represent the amount of freedom/passion/anger/confidence they have or are allowed to express under their different circumstances. as vivica belongs to a strict organisation, she has far less red in her design, showing her emotions are stifled - meanwhile octavia has it as her main complementary color because of her freedom to express her emotions, though those emotions may be destructive because of her circumstances.

PERSONALITY: what colors are associated with your character's personality? i actually usually refer to magical girl groups to see what's commonly associated with different colors. here's the main trend:

red: hot-headed, passionate, firey

orange/yellow: bright, happy-go-lucky, sunshine personality

green: wise, mellow, kind

blue: serene, graceful, elegant

purple: magical, regal, fancy

pink: usually the main character (though this because magical girl anime tends to be marketed towards young girls), sweet, relatable, determined

of course these are only stereotypes from one genre of anime, and different colors have tons of different meanings. color theory is the best way to learn this! these colors can also express different moods, which ties into ch1. i myself constantly ignore these rules - v-con, a bombastic hyper DJ, is purple (though he does have yellow accents) for example. basically, i just take them as a general rule and try to have them in mind while drawing.

CH3: HOW ZENO MAKES HIS COLORS COOLER

this might be the most important part of this guide. once again, there are a few things to consider here: filters, hue, overlays, and more!

FILTERS: for ibispaint, you can use an adjustment layer on your whole piece to use a filter. i usually only use brightness/contrast here - upping the brightness (or darkening it based on the mood of the piece) and upping the contrast. this helps to better express values and intensify the colors if that's what you want. i often use it in all my pieces to some extent.

hue/saturation/lightness is also helpful in moderation. you can alter the hue - though it usually only helps if you bring it back or forward by just a few points, or the entire pallete will change. saturation is what it sounds like, and slightly over/desaturating the piece can help with atmosphere. lightness is what it sounds like - lightens the colors in the piece. i don't use it at all.

posterize and sharpen mask are some that i've used recently. posterize can add some crazy effects to your art, but i'd probably need to edit it slightly after using it because it can mess with certain colors.

HUE: it's a layer type that can change the overall hue of the piece. i usually use it at a low percentage for atmosphere. kind of like a gradient map but nothing like it? idk

and OVERLAYS: i just use a very saturated blue/purple color over the entire piece at a very low percentage, around 5-10%. it can wash out the piece at too high a percentage.

and that's basically it! sorry it kind of derailed at the end i spent like 2 hours on this and got super tired. goodnight i'm going to sleep please also look at other artists etc etc. bye.

#zeno's art #long post #color tutorial #liar by korn is actually a really catchy song yea the lyrics are weird but its so good tbh #peak drums and bass and guitar and vocals and then the lyrics are hot booty. this is what nu metal's all about people #ask questions if you want #about nu metal or art i dont care

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neverchecking · 2 years ago

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Could you do Yandere BOTW Champions or TOTK Sages x Reader who has the Mask from Majora’s Mask? The reader is Hylian. But they have the usual four mask, Plus the Fierce Deity mask.

As head cannons preferably.

This is a mostly Linked Universe Blog, but sure! I'm not overly well versed on the whole Mask deal, so please bare with me.

I went with the BOTW Champions, since not everyone knows the sages.

Champion of the Masks

・❥・So, if you know the Champions, there's a good chance you are a knight or warrior in your own right.

・❥・You are someone powerful, probably because of said masks. For Hylia's sake, you have the Fierce Deity looking over you. You are practically untouchable.

・❥・And the other Champions are well aware of this fact. But that doesn't change anything.

・❥・Because you are still so vulnerable. What happens when you're separated from your masks? Then what? Hm? You are just so vulnerable, can't you see that?

・❥・You don't have any powers of the wind, not any form of protection. You can't control any elements, nor can you heal. You certainly don't have any part of the triforce. You are powerless.

・❥・Which is why they needed to be there to protect you!

・❥・Now, Revali. My loveable douche-bird. He tries to keep you at a distance, but still falls. And he falls hard. Revali is the only champion who wasn't born with his gift. He had to build Revali's gale into what it was from scratch.

・❥・Reader probably recognizes all of his hard work, because (and this is from my very limited research) to get all of the Masks in their possession? A bitch and a half. They weren't gifted these masks. Not without a price. So they can recognize a situation where you are pitted against these...demi-gods eons beyond your own abilities and forced to catch up or fall behind.

・❥・And Revali absolutely cherishes this. Having someone not look down on him, but instead stand on the very same footing he was? Man's is down bad.

・❥・He is particularly fond of your Breman Mask because you just look so pretty in feathers. And while yes, white looked nice on you, blue looked better.

・❥・I HC that every race has their own form of courting rituals, Rito included. They probably make their intended betrothed some sort of snow-quill headpiece meant for the cold, lined with their feathers and intricate braids of fine silks and expensive ribbons.

・❥・You just know that Revali, as a champion, would make a nice courting present. And you just know he is purposefully difficult and makes everyone else come to him in the Rito village (He is their best warrior and is shown to lead their army in AoC). You just know that he demands the princess bring her two best knights, which begrudgingly means Link, but it also means you. You who wears the snowquill bit with pride-- even if you don't know what if means really.

・❥・It doesn't matter because the others do.

・❥・The next one to fall is Urbosa.

・❥・She falls after seeing you in battle. The Gerudo, regardless of gender, can respect a Warrior when they see one. And you are a warrior. You with your sharp wit and insane reaction times, parrying a blade aimed for her.

・❥・Your strength alone makes her swoon because out of everything she can respect that.

・❥・Her favorite mask of yours is the Garo's mask. Not only does it fool these supposed Garo (You are so smart, did you know that? With all of your stories and journeys.), but it also fools the Yiga. The Mask of Truth does as well, but the thought of spilling her guts to you makes her uneasy.

・❥・Not because she doesn't want you to know how constantly you're running through her head, but she doesn't want you to know how deep these thoughts delve.

・❥・When you're able to fool the Yiga and get back to her about an ambush planned on her people, she knows you're the one.

・❥・I like to imagine the Gerudo focus more on jewelry for a courting action. Not rings, no. But intricate pieces of armor lined with gems aimed to aid in battles.

・❥・Brigandines lined with topaz; Gorgets lined with opals; spaulders ordained in rubies; Poleyn decorated in sapphires. Even your own Scmitar enhanced by diamonds. All of it custom made to you to show her devotion to you.

・❥・Now, with this being all useful items you can wear in battle, you're seen in it often.

・❥・Daruk is next. He falls for you after seeing you in his, coincidentally, favorite mask. You tell the tale of the Goron Mask after he asks, weaving this intricate legend that had him hanging onto every word.

・❥・The Gorons show their love through food. So Daruk makes it a point to constantly share his food, both sedimentary and otherwise. He loves knowing that you are well fed and cared for because of him.

・❥・I feel like the highest form of love that can be shown through food for a Goron is a Prime Rock Roast. And while he knows Hylian's can't eat rocks (Link excluded because...it's Link), he looks for the next best thing.

・❥・Intricate pasties filled with only the finest of whipped cream and dusted with powdered sugar; dripping roasts just oozing juice that practically fall of the bone; grilled fish where the smell alone is enough to make you sallivate

・❥・All of it are gifted to you to ensure you think of him whenever you feel hungry. That he is your go to.

・❥・Now, next is a tie between Link and Zelda.

・❥・Zelda probably falls first because she sees you interacting with the others and watches you. In fact, you watch her back. But the difference between you watching her and Link watching her, because her father has allowed you to take over for Link on the rare occasion, is that you give her space. You allow her to disappear into the divine beasts, waiting patiently for her to come to you.

・❥・You entertain her with stories upon stories.

・❥・You listen to her woes with a careful ear and offer your own advice.

・❥・You even braved her cooking.

・❥・She loves all of your masks and cherishes each story about them. But when you wear the Great Fairy Mask and let fairies tickle her cheeks?That's when she swoons the most.

・❥・Link falls during all the time he spends with you chasing after Zelda. You're able to hold your own, which is always appreciated, and you're okay with silence. Silence settles between you two often while waiting for Zelda and you don't push it.

・❥・And you don't look at him like he's anything other than a Hylian. Not the wielder of the sword that seals the darkness.

・❥・Not this random knight that was handed a legacy on a plate.

・❥・Not an annoyance that needed to be shook off,

・❥・He was just Link to you. And it made his heart sing.

・❥・Unfortunately, neither are quite in the position to court you. Not with Calamity on the horizon, nor with their standings in the royal council. And it tears them apart in the inside. Seeing you decked out in jewels with feathers woven into your hair, eating some of the finest things Hyrule has to offer, all of it makes them bitter and hungry. Hungry to show how you belong to them.

・❥・You get prefential treatment in the castle. The finest of rooms with the softest of sheets. Plump pillows and too many locks on the door to keep you right where she wants satin pajamas, all just for your enjoyment.

・❥・Or the best weapons and shields available to the royal guard. Bows re-strung just for you, or the lion's share of arrows provided. Want that Shield that Jimmy Whosit has? Give Link three minutes. No, there's no blood on the shield, what are you talking about? You must exhausted if you're seeing things, maybe you should just skip training all together?

・❥・It's all yours.

・❥・Now, the last person to fall, is Mipha. She's very hesitant to lend her heart out to you, but you know who isn't afraid of showing their emotions on their sleeves for everyone to see?

・❥・Sidon.

・❥・Sidon, in all his little fishy glory, loves you when you come around. when you dawn the Zora mask and swim with him. You play all the games that Mipha won't because they're 'too dangerous'. So when you come around he's ecstatic, dragging his sister down to see you alongside him.

・❥・Mipha tolerates you for the time being, probably still in love with a different knight, making him his own armor. But after she finishes it, it's no longer shaped to Link's form. No. Somewhere along the way it went from being formed to his broader shoulders to being shortened to your own narrower set. It no longer was long enough to fit his torso, instead fitted to your own.

・❥・Her heart had tainted her hands, making armor for you before she even knew what it all meant. The only reason the rest of her catches up is because she sees you with Sidon.

・❥・She watches you swim on you back, with Sidon clinging to your chest, laughter bubbling up from both of you.

・❥・And the last of them falls.

・❥・She aims to give you the armor after the fall of the calamity, but...I'm sure we all know how that'll play out...

・❥・Anyway, between them all, you get very little time to yourself. They are all constantly hovering over you.

・❥・You think you can get away with one of your masks?

・❥・Nice try.

・❥・Your precious Stone Mask? Gone. Confiscated under the order of Princess Zelda King Rhoam.

・❥・Think you can fight your way out?

・❥・Not even the Fierce Deity mask can save you from the champions, their Divine Beasts, and the Triforce of Wisdom and Courage, nor their wielders.

・❥・You wanna run and hide?

・❥・There is not a single inch of Hyrule that one of them doesn't know about.

・❥・You are well and truly trapped under their hold, just where they like you.

・❥・Trapped like a fucking bird in a cage while they fight amongst themselves to see who you stay with.

・❥・ Let's hope they decided quickly before the Calamity decides he's done being patient.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linkeduniverse #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda #loz #link x reader #yandere link x reader #yandere revali x reader #yandere urbosa x reader #yandere daruk x reader #yandere zelda x reader #yandere mipha x reader #yandere botw #botw x reader

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 hours ago

Note

Hello , love your content! Helps me so much with writing!! I saw your cat post yesterday and I was wondering if you had notes for horses too? If not it’s okay. You are doing gods work thank you!!!<3

Writing Notes: Horses & their Personalities

According to J. Warren Evans in the popular animal science textbook Horses: A Guide to Selection, Care and Employment, horses have 6 basic temperament types. Here’s a rundown on the temperament types and how each is best handled:

Quiet. This horse is commonly referred to as bomb-proof by owners and a packer by riding instructors for his unreactive nature. He will tolerate almost anything, from a fluttering flag to an uncoordinated rider with inexperienced hands. This type can generally be trusted to behave safely and to build the confidence of beginner riders, while a more advanced rider might consider him too dull.

Interested. These horses are great for riders with a little training and experience. In well-trained hands, these horses pay attention to the rider’s aids but aren’t upset by them. While they are aware of their environment and respond to things going on around them, it’s unusual for them to react with fight-or-flight behavior. As long as this horse is handled with consideration and sensitivity, riders will seldom go wrong with this sort. Many of the horses you see collecting ribbons at local horse shows fit into this category, as they are both animated and dependable.

Nervous. Nervous is the personality type truest to equine nature, and consequently many horses fit into this category. The flight response in nervous horses is well-developed. They spook easily, perhaps even bolting to escape from perceived dangers all around. They tend to carry their heads high, looking for trouble and ready to react. For a quiet and experienced rider, this horse can eventually make a very nice mount. For a tentative rider, he can be a wreck waiting to happen. Most can eventually develop some trust and a sense of security from confident yet sympathetic riders who allow them to progress in training. They require extreme patience and confident handling from the rider. You cannot rush the trust they require before they can progress. If you can learn to work with the challenge, these horses can be worth it and wonderful to show as they tend to possess an extra brilliance in spirit and movement.

Extremely Nervous. These horses are so reactive that virtually anything can set them off, and even changes in footing or shadows on the ground could cause fearful explosions at any time. Calm, consistent handling while slowly expanding their comfort zones will ultimately benefit them, but the road will be long and often dangerous. You must stay especially alert at all times. These horses are best left to professionals or to individuals with loads of experience and a solid foundation in equine behavior principles.

Stubborn. These horses tend to resent work and try to find a way out of it. When pushed, they often become irritable and balky, sometimes even exploding in temper. Trainers often encounter behavior that sets back training, requiring repetitions of lessons already learned. These horses also require riders with a lot of patience, but while the nervous horse requires a quiet hand, stubborn horses need a tactful yet firm approach.

Treacherous. These horses, with the notable exception of a few naturally aggressive stallions, are nearly always either a product of bad handling or benign neglect. They either haven’t learned to respect humans or have learned to actively resent them. Such horses may unexpectedly attack humans by kicking, biting or stomping on them. Horses who simply lack an understanding of their place below humans on the dominance hierarchy may sometimes be reformed by the most experienced of handlers. Sadly, euthanasia is sometimes the only safe solution for savage horses. Fortunately, such horses are rare.

Many horses seem to fluctuate daily between types. But this is what makes each ride unique and each day a lesson.

In addition to the above mentioned temperaments, the following personalities are reported to be observed in horses:

Friendly. Friendly types enjoy human companionship and frequently form strong bonds with their riders. They are the kind of horses that will nickel when they see you coming and enjoy being groomed and fussed over. They are often very willing partners and can excel in any discipline, although they may lack the competitiveness of some of the other types. These horses make excellent first mounts for beginners because they are so forgiving and willing to please. They are also frequently used in therapeutic riding programs because of their gentle nature.

Cuddler. Cuddlers are horses that love physical affection. They enjoy being close to their humans and often seek out physical contact. They frequently nuzzle, rest their heads on you, and even fall asleep while being groomed. This type of horse is often very affectionate and bonds strongly with its riders. They make excellent mounts for beginners and children because they are so patient and gentle. Cuddlers are often used in therapeutic riding programs because of their calming presence.

Go-Getter. Go-getters are horses that are always up for a challenge. They love to work and are very motivated by food, praise, and attention. These types of horses often excel in competition because they are so eager to please their riders. They can be a bit challenging to train because they can be easily bored. However, once they trust their rider, they will give their all in any situation. These horses make excellent mounts for experienced riders who are looking for a willing partner.

Laid-Back. Laid-back types are the chillaxed of the horse world. They are not particularly motivated by food, praise, or attention. They often enjoy a good scratch and will stand quietly while being groomed, but they are not usually fond of being fussed over. These horses frequently lack motivation and can be challenging to train. However, once they trust their rider, they can be very reliable partners. These horses make excellent mounts for experienced riders who are looking for a laid-back mount.

Of course, not every horse fits perfectly into one of these categories. Many horses have traits from multiple types or their own unique combination of qualities. The best way to get to know your horse's personality is to spend time with them and observe their behaviour.

Temperament - can be defined as innate properties of the nervous system, whereas personality includes the complex behavioral traits acquired through life.

Association between personality and behavior is important for breeding, selection, and training of horses. Sackman & Houpt (2018) evaluated if equine personality components previously identified in Japan and Europe were consistent when applied to American horses.

They examined the association of personality with breed, age, sex, management, training, stereotypies, and misbehaviors.

The owner directed personality survey consisted of 25 questions.

An online version of the survey was created.

The principal component analysis method was used to associate behavioral traits with personality components.

Factor analysis with orthogonal transformation was performed on scores for personality-related questions.

A total of 847 survey responses were used.

Quarter Horses, “other” breed, and Thoroughbred were the most common breeds.

Three principal personality components were extracted as each behavioral trait belonged to one of these three components.

Arabians, Thoroughbreds, Saddlebreds, and Walking horses were the most nervous and Quarter Horses, and Paints, Appaloosas, and Drafts were the least nervous.

Using the key personality components, they were able to establish and refute links between personality type such as nervousness, curiosity, and threatening and trained discipline.

They found that horses who kicked doors, bit, and had more than one stereotypy had a more threatening personality than those horses with no stereotypy.

Genetics, as demonstrated by an association between personality components and breed, play the largest role in equine personality with environmental factors, such as association and experience with humans, social contact, and housing applying a significant influence on the expression of specific behaviors/traits.

All horses are individuals with their own unique personality traits, just like people. However, there are some generalisations that can be made about different types of horses based on their breed, history, and physical characteristics.

Some popular horse types include:

American Quarter Horse: These horses are known for their athleticism and speed and are often used in rodeos and racing.

Arabian: Arabians are one of the oldest horse breeds in the world and are known for their intelligence and stamina.

Icelandic: These hardy horses are used for a variety of purposes including riding, pulling carts, and herding sheep.

When it comes to personalities, some horses are more outgoing and social while others are more independent and aloof.

Some horses are very curious and playful, while others are calmer and more serious.

There is no right or wrong when it comes to horse personalities, but it is important to match the right horse with the right owner based on their individual needs and personality traits.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

You are too lovely, thanks so much! Hope this helps with your writing <3

#anonymous #horse #animals #writeblr #literature #writers on tumblr #writing reference #writing notes #dark academia #spilled ink #writing prompt #creative writing #writing resources

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happysaddca · 28 days ago

Text

I am so full of thoughts but my head hurts so Ellis's head hurts too.

If this is actually readable I'll be surprised. @wyervan >.>

Wait shit CW for vomiting

The inside of the bus is surprisingly dark, the bright afternoon sun reflecting off bone white snow only emphasizing the contrast. Moon shuts the door, squinting as his eyes adjust.

Heavy fabric covers the windows, shoved into the thick rubber lining leftover from its school bus days. A little light leaks from the edges of the windows and from the opaque plastic of the emergency exit on the roof.

“Ellis?” As Moon approaches the bed at the back of the bus, he can just make out a pile. It's a rat’s nest of blankets, the different patterns twisting on themselves and creating an ouroboros of color and texture. He leans forward, catching sight of a slender brown hand poking through what turns out to be a breathing hole. He can just make out the shape of their chin. He has to resist the urge to laugh when they snore.

A jingle of bells pulls him away from the bed, and he turns in time to see a shape falling from the table towards the floor. Moon catches it with ease (the bus is only so big and he's mostly limbs), the jingling continuing as he squints at Eos sitting perfectly straight, tail flicking back and forth behind. His nail catches on something scratchy and starched, and he finally looks at the plush he’d saved from the floor.

It’s Sun — or rather Sun’s clown costume on a little felt doll. The doll is wearing the sun mask and puffy pants, and there is even tiny ribbons with bells attached to his wrists. Moon pulls experimentally on the mask, finding to his surprise that it does come off, held in place over curly yarn hair with a bit of elastic. The ruffles seem less removable, and he pokes at them, noticing a dark splotch of color on Sun’s little shoulder. A stain?

Moon’s interrupted again by Eos attempting to push down the second doll. She bites at the night cap as he pulls his mini-me to safety. This felt figure feels rough in places, and he frowns, having to squint to see what’s wrong with the fabric. To his surprise, it’s been painted in approximation of his vitiligo, some of the spots so small he can only tell by feel that Ellis had added them in. The rest of the outfit is similar to Sun’s but in his signature blue and stars, and they both jingle violently as he throws them back on the table when Eos goes after the tomato shaped pincushion.

“You little menace,” he growls at the purring bundle of fur in his arms, scowl softening when Eos rubs against his chin, kneading at his arms. Here at least she can’t knock over any of Ellis’s hard work or get pricked by an errant pin. His hand sinks into the deceptively thick fur as he scratches behind her ears and down her neck.

“Moon?” Ellis’s voice comes out thick and phlegmy from the depths of the nest. There’s movement, the hand becoming an arm and shoulder until Ellis is mostly sitting up, their sleep mask half dragged down their face. “What’re you doing here?”

He waits until they’ve dug their hearing aids free, putting one in and cocking their head to hear. “Came to check on you. Sun said you threatened to castrate him when he knocked earlier.” The sheer offense Sun had radiated coming back in had been amusing enough in the moment but they’d agreed that he should check on their semi-live in employee when there was a quiet moment.

“Migraine.” Ellis is still moving slowly, pulling at the eye mask in an attempt to pull it off and snapping themselves in the neck instead. Moon can only nod, feeling out of place despite Eos’s nonstop purring. He’s overly aware of the top of his hood brushing against the roof, too tall and lanky and Ellis has suddenly picked up speed, pushing past him for one of the few doors that exist in the bus. One for outside, one to separate the driver’s seat from the rest of the living space, and the final to hide the bathroom. Ellis disappears into the bathroom, followed by the sound of vomiting, and Moon makes a face before releasing Eos to the bed and poking his face in the tiny space.

Ellis is on the floor, clinging to the toilet seat like their life depends on it, oblivious to Moon’s presence until he’s kneeling and presses a hand lightly on their back. “No,” they groan.

“It’s okay.”

“Go away Moon. I’ll be fine.” Ellis isn’t letting go of the seat, nor are they lifting their head from the bowl.

Moon pretends to think about it before settling more firmly on the floor. “You’re not fine. Migraines are killer. I should know.” Ellis approximates the sound of a laugh, shoulders jerking as another wave of nausea hits. Moon lets his hand rest on their shoulder, squeezing lightly. “Saw the plushes you made.”

“Moon.” It’s a whine, soft and low as Ellis tries to lift their head to look back his way. “They were a surprise for later.”

“Can still act surprised. Sun will be surprised.” Their head drops again but it’s silent. After a moment they reach out blindly, feeling for something. Moon tears off a generous strip of toilet paper, bringing it within reach. Ellis snatches it, blowing their nose and finally sitting up to drop the lid and flush.

“I think I live here now,” they declare, leaning against the porcelain.

“Would be pretty hard to work or take care of Miss Void.” Moon flinches in surprise when said void makes her way in, pushing into Ellis’s arms. “She’d probably like her box cleaned and her meals regular.”

“You sneak in here often enough now. You can do it.” Ellis has to lift their face to avoid touching Eos’s tail with their mouth. “Eoby no, no not right now. I don’t feel good.”

“Won’t feel better sitting there.”

“No one asked you Moon.” Ellis starts to go for their hearing aid, but Moon stops them. Ellis is warm, far too warm for just (“just”) a migraine. They don’t fight him too hard when Moon scoops them up by the armpits, forcing them to stand and walk, wobbly legged, to the sink. They brush their teeth, movements mechanical. When they finish rinsing, they try to stand on their own and immediately go down.

“Nope. Up again. Think you’re sick.” Moon walks them back to bed, reminded of the kids who fall asleep and struggle with basic movement out of the play area so they can safely nap. Ellis collapses into the pile, grumbling when Moon drags most of the blankets out of the way. “Ellis, work with me.”

“No. Go away or I’ll… what’d I say I’d do to Sun?”

“Castrate him.” Moon continues to untangle the mess. Some of the blankets seem to actually be knotted together. Ellis grumbles and rolls further into the bed, trying to cover their head with a pillow instead.

“Castrate you too.”

“Too bad.” He tosses a freed blanket over Ellis, deciding it’s too much to try and make use of the others. Eos jumps up and burrows her way under the covers with her human. “We’ll check on you later. Bring soup.”

“Neither of you can cook.” He can see Ellis squinting at him. He grins at their suspicious look.

“Didn’t say we would be making it by hand. Campbell’s is the better chef.” He holds his hand out, waiting. It takes Ellis too long to figure out what he’s asking for, finally pulling the hearing aid out to pass over. He shuts it off, setting it aside where hopefully Ellis can find it later. He feels awkward again, standing over Ellis and watching them settle back in bed. Without a task, it’s time to leave.

He’s at the door when Ellis speaks up. “Thanks Moon.” He doesn’t answer. No point when they can’t hear.

Sun checks on Ellis after the arcade is closed, but they’re sound asleep. He presses the back of his hand against their forehead, but there’s no fever. Just (“just”) a migraine then. His memories of migraines are adults locking themselves in dark rooms and getting snippy at any loud noises from children playing. He spots Eos watching him from her protective perch behind Ellis and quickly makes his exit, not wanting to scare Ellis if they wake up.

Moon drops off the soup before they leave for the night, but when he checks in the morning, it’s cold, untouched. Ellis is alive and still sleeping, having pulled some of the blankets back onto the bed in the intervening time. There’s a small part of him wondering at the timing of the migraine with his and Sun’s last kill. His hands itch for a blade, to do something useful. He remembers the soft jangle of the bells on the dolls. Is that what people hear when he stalks them? It feels appropriate. He toys with the bells on his sleeves while Sun resets the stage for their next show.

It takes three days, three days with both Moon and Sun popping in to check on Ellis. For the most part, they’re asleep or pretending to be, the nest slowly regrowing on the bed until their employee is once again hidden away.

On day three, they both pop their heads in to check and are surprised to find some of the blankets had been pulled down from the windows, letting the street lamp light in. “Ah, Nova, you’re up.” Sun immediately has to duck a plush bear getting tossed at his head. “So mean, when we’re just making sure you’re still alive.”

Ellis is sitting at their table, giving the brothers a glare. “Why’re you here?” Sun starts to answer, but Moon elbows him, gesturing to his ears. There’s a beat and Ellis stands, grabbing a cup that has their glasses and both hearing aids safely hidden from their nosy cat. They repeat the question when they can hear again.

“We came to check on one of our favoritest employees. Make sure we don’t need to call a coroner to take you away.” Sun moves further in, his usual theatrical motions stunted by the lack of space. “Have you eaten?”

“Have you?” They look Sun over closely, then Moon. Their brow is furrowed from the little bit of light let in, but as Sun seems intent on making himself vaguely comfortable, they stand and turn on the overhead lights. “You both look like shit.”

“Says the shit.” Moon hangs back, looking for Eos. She’s nowhere to be seen, but he does hear a soft jingle.

Sun’s head snaps to the sound in time with Moon’s. “What’s that?”

“It was meant to be a surprise. They’re not even done yet.” Ellis stands slowly with a sigh. “Eos has figured out how to get into my crafts cabinet so it doesn’t matter where I put them, she keeps going for their ribbons.” As they speak, they open said cabinet, first pulling their cat free. Eos has a little starry blue hat in her mouth, the bell on the tip jangling madly. “Eos, baby, no. Eoby, gimme that.” Ellis frees the hat from the cat’s mouth, passing Eos off to Sun. Sun holds her stiffly until Moon leans forward, freeing him of the creature. She almost immediately begins to purr, giving his loose hair a good lick.

“Is that me?” Sun’s voice is bright, delight and surprise at seeing the little dolls in Ellis’s hands. With the light, Moon can see the that the Sun plush has tiny freckles painted on his shoulders and arms, and the Moon plush has his hair braided back out of his face. Sun takes the mini-him, pulling the mask up and letting out a delighted laugh. “Oh, these are so cute Nova! But why make them?”

Ellis is blushing, the color notable because of how pale they currently look. Their gaze has dropped from roughly level with the clowns’ chins to Sun’s hands as they poke and prod at the doll. “I thought maybe it’d be cool if you guys had your own merchandise. For like the claw machine and stuff. These are… they’re meant to be mock— wait Sun no, don’t look at that.”

Sun’s found the stain mostly hidden under the neck ruffle. Moon can see now it’s a deep, irony red, a bloodstain. Ellis grabs at the plush, but Sun holds it away and over his head, hands bumping into the roof. “Nuh uh. What is this?”

“I kinda stabbed myself while trying to sew the ruffle. That’s why it’s a mock up and not the real thing. Give it back Sun.” They try to grab again, going on tiptoe to even out the height difference, but Sun hasn’t been battling a migraine for days, just difficult to clean messes and a broken soda machine.

“I love it. Makes it even more accurate, don’t you think Moonie?” Sun waggles the plush at Moon, who just shrugs in return. “See, absolute seal of approval. Too bad we can’t actually keep the blood. Wouldn’t be very hygienic for little fingers and mouths.”

Ellis is squeezing the Moon plush tight, staring at the stripes on Sun’s jacket. “I know. It was… it was an accident.” There’s a moment where they look ready to cry before they close their eyes. “Okay, you’ve seen the plushes. You’ve checked on me. I’ll be back to work in the morning. I’m sorry for being gone so long.”

“It’s no worries. We’re all just glad you’re finally feeling better.” The intent is sincere, even if it doesn’t look like Ellis quite believes it. Sun pats an empty hand on their shoulder, squeezing tight. “Feel free to take a slow morning of things. And — can I keep this?” The plush jingles merrily. Moon can feel Eos tense in his arms, watching the doll.

“Yeah. You can. Both of them even.” Ellis holds out the Moon doll, hat roughly back in place, and when Sun takes it, they reach out for the cat. Moon passes her over gingerly, stepping back for the door.

“These are just so delightful! And you took such care with the detail. Look Moon!” Sun shows the plush to Moon, who nods even as he takes Sun by the elbow to lead him out. Their breath steams in the cold air, Sun still talking about the plushes and who might be able to make them en masse, if not in such exquisite detail. Moon looks up at Ellis lingering in the entrance of the bus, hugging Eos tight. “Good night Nova!”

“Good night Sun.” There is a bit of a smile now, just around the edges of Ellis’s face. “I’m glad you like them, even if they’re not perfect.” A little nod to Moon, but no words. They just close the door and disappear back into the bus.

“Here’s your you!” Sun hands the little Moon over, and he has to catch the hat and mask, feeling again where the felt had been painted to match his vitiligo. “Who would’ve guessed our little Nova had such talent in them. Do you think they’d be willing to make lifesize replicas?”

“I think we do enough scaring without needing doubles.” Moon tucks the plush in his hoodie pocket, dragging Sun towards the car. “The cost of materials is probably too high too. We can barely pay our current employees.”

“Would be funny though. Chasing someone through the woods behind their house and boom, scared pantsless by a pretend you dropping from the tree. Or oh what about themselves?” Sun laughs, slipping into the driver’s seat. “They think theyve made it free and find themselves hanging by the neck from the nearest tree.”

“I’m not sure Ellis would be up for such macabre arts and crafts.” Moon drops his head back into the headrest, closing his eyes. “It’d require them knowing what we do and we agreed.”

“Jokes only. I know. It’s far too dangerous to let our little stars in on the secret.” Sun still sighs even as he starts the car. The heater turns on, letting off a burnt lint smell the fills the small space. “Still, it would be funny.”

“Learn to sew.”

That gets a snort from Sun, and they drive off, leaving the arcade and the bus that makes its home in the parking lot behind for another night.

#dca slasher au #dca au #ellis knapp #my writing #this is almost 3k long #I basically went 'oh I can write' for thirty minutes #laid down for an hour #'oh I can write' for another hour #I can't feel my head or read so I hope it's comprehensible

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muddyorbsblr · 2 years ago

Text

a tale of ice baths and hot sauce

See my full list of works here!

Placement: the day after 'a sizing mishap'

Summary: An effort is made to find out who your mystery boyfriend is during the Elementals challenge when some members of the staff see some marks on your neck that weren't there before…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: mango mention (no really i did that here lol); bit of insecurity from Reader if you squint

"You think anyone would notice if I just pinched a chip from the bowl?" you joked while setting up the table for the Elementals-themed challenge that a handful of the Soccer Aid players were going to voluntarily subject themselves to with Joelah, the host for most if not all the promo videos for this event. You raised an eyebrow playfully at her when she approached the table with a giddy little skip in her step, practically twirling in her outfit of relaxed fit jeans and a diagonal cut asymmetrical crop top. "Please tell me where you go shopping I'm in desperate need of cuter clothes. I mean, 'raiding the boyfriend's closet chic' is cute and all but…I also drown in fabric whenever I do it."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, Y/N, I think you're faring pretty damn fine if I do say so myself." She waved a hand at your current getup of a cropped loose olive green halter top and a black ruffle skort. "Players seem to enjoy it well enough," she mumbled with a lower tone, as if warning you that you were currently being ogled. "Oy! Eyes on the ball, you pervy lads!"

"Thanks," you told her with a smile, pulling your hair into a ribbon so that it wouldn't stick to your sweaty neck. "Now…do you wanna share with the class why you were skipping--"

"Bloody hell, Y/L/N, your neck!" she gasped, pointing at the right side of your neck and collarbone. "You didn't have that when I last saw you yesterday--Oh my lordy me, you hooked up with someone here! Is it one of the players? That social media star on the World team? One of the pros? Sam Claflin??"

"No on all fronts, Jo," you laughed off her questions. "My boyfriend's working the event, too. I was with him." Her jaw dropped to the ground with your revelation. "We're keeping things a bit…low key, you know?"

"Oh you and your secrets," she teased, still motioning toward your neck. "If that isn't a sign that screams 'Horny blokes step the fuck back', I haven't the faintest idea what is. Anyways, what were you asking earlier?"

"Ah, right. I was gonna ask why were you skipping on your way here like you were back in school and teacher just gave you a gold star?"

"Oh…Oh! Because I just got the players for the Elementals Fire and Ice challenge and Number 6 lit'rally up and volunteered to represent Team England." She made a motion fanning herself. "That godly bod dripping wet and clothes just clinging to him? Lordy me have mercy. And whoever put him in the teeniest jersey and shorts imaginable, I just wanna eurgh! Wanna grab 'em and thank 'em to the high heavens, y'know? Thank 'em for their service."

You are very welcome, you thought to yourself.

"Maybe if you leave an iced coffee on the table and go pspspsps they'll acknowledge your gratitude," you joked, once again pointing to the chips. "I'm taking a pinch. And trying out these sauces, I've been deadly curious since yesterday."

"You take the green one, I'll take one of the reds," she offered, already getting a large chip for herself and placing a few drops of the brighter red condiment. When you had placed a dollop of the green hot sauce onto your own chip, you clinked your pieces together before taking thing whole and bracing for the worst. "Fuck all that is hellish!" she mumbled around her piece, eyeing you incredulously while you just continued on chewing and letting the taste of the sauce linger for a moment or two. "How in the…"

You grabbed all the bottles and looked over the labels with a scrutinizing eye. "The green's deceptive. Makes you think you're getting the milder one but it's got the highest level of Scoville units. I feel sorry to whoever's gonna end up with that."

There was some motion from the corner of your eye, which you quickly realized were the camera crew and some other members of the staff carting around numerous 10 gallon bottles of water and 3 drums. And following just behind them were the six players slated to play this little trivia game. You gave them all a little wave and a courteous smile, making sure to hold eye contact with each of them, and saving Tom for last so you could allow yourself the indulgence of holding his gaze for a fraction of a moment longer, which he returned with a small wave and an obviously deliberate infinitesimal twitch of his two middle fingers.

"Goodness, Y/L/N," one of the staff members, Allen, bellowed. "What happened to--"

"My neck?" you finished for him. "Don't worry about it. My boyfriend thinks himself a vampire," you answered with a casual shrug, earning you a round of chuckles from the rest of the crew and the players. You motioned toward the water drums. "Should we get that all set up then?"

"Oh. Yeah, for sure." He waved his arm toward the drums as well. "Have at it."

"I could help you," Scarlette chimed in, already taking the end of the drum in front of you and jutting her chin in the direction of your neck. "I didn't see that on you yesterday when I picked up my uniform. I take it your boyfriend's somewhere in the building then?" She capped off her question with a cheeky wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Yes, and I'm not saying a single word on where and who he is. But I won't deny it if anyone guesses correctly. The only catch though…you only get two guesses each," you offered, looking at both her and Joelah.

"Claflin," Scarlette spoke immediately, causing the other one to make a motion as if to stop her but all too late.

"Aaaaand that's one wrong guess. Also makes you the second person in this place to for some reason think that I'm bumping uglies with Finnick Odair."

"I could've told you it's not Mister Clock App, or Claflin…or any of the pros," Joelah grumbled out. "We're down to three."

You two set up the last of the water drums, making sure that they were equidistant from one another, and after thanking Scarlette you moved toward the massive water bottles to start filling them up. "Let me help you," Tom spoke up, already placing his hands under the bottle, brushing his hands across yours before taking most of the weight of the bottle and leading you both toward the drum. "You reckon they'll guess me, darling?" he asked under his breath.

"Absolutely not," you answered, keeping your voice down. "I don't think they'll even consider it a possibility that I can pull you."

"Personally I think you pull me just fine," he shot back, smirking when you had to suppress a chortle from his words. "More than fine, actually."

"Menace," you hissed, trying to covertly take deep breaths while the two of you walked to the next bottle and repeated the process.

"Only for you, sweetheart."

"Okay you must be built all kinds of different, because I don't think I coulda kept my wits about me being that close him with the guns on full display, and in close proximity to…what was it the internet called it again?"

"The mango?" you prompted Joelah, causing you both to break out in stifled giggles while waiting for the camera crew to finish setting up.

"Yes! And I saw that little hand brushing, too I mean—how were you not absolutely swooning the second he walked up to the bottle? Hell, how did you even function?"

I have been under those guns on full display and touched more than just his hand, you thought to yourself, holding your words back and instead gave her a little shrug. "Worked with him before. You get used to it," you bluffed. "Besides, I've got someone, and I'm really happy and stupid in love. So there's that, too."

"We need a hand here!" Scarlette called out in your general direction, her and Bugzy already on their feet but pointing at Tom who for some unknown reason, currently had both feet sticking up and out of the drum and putting him in a position that made it exceedingly more difficult for him to get up and out of the drum.

"How in the actual fuck did he even get like that?" you started thinking aloud. A strangled noise slipped from your mouth the second his head dipped below the water and his hands lost their grip on the edge of the drum.

You knew that he would be able to find his way back up, but it didn't stop the way your heart caught in your throat. The way that your legs were involuntarily twitching as if taking on a mind of their own and urging you to make your way to him.

If he hadn't stuck his head back out from under the water just a few seconds later, you would have been more than ready to run to him and help him to his feet, check on him the way he often checked on you when he would see you short of breath on set. You wouldn't have given a damn about the cameras capturing your every move.

But instead you were frozen in place, watching as he ascended and took a big heaving breath, shaking the water from his hair and his eyes before finding your gaze. You were suddenly acutely aware of nearly every minute movement of your body trying to fight back every reaction you had to the excessively obvious bedroom eyes he was giving you, resorting to subtly digging what little fingernail you had into the palm of your hand to at least focus on something else until he looked away.

You moved the moment you clocked the excitement on the faces of Joelah as well as some female members of the staff, already undoubtedly about to speak up that they would gladly help him out. "Can we cut?" you hollered toward the cameraman, who responded to you with a simple thumbs up, pressing a button on his equipment that stopped recording. You quickly whipped out your phone and snapped a picture of Tom in the precarious position before you reached him.

"Really, Y/N?" he huffed, feigning exasperation but you knew that tone better than any other person around you at the moment. He was amused. And you would be in trouble later tonight. You even began to doubt if you could completely walk properly in the morning or if you would walk into the briefing area with a more than slight penguin waddle.

"Had to," you quipped, shrugging your shoulders and scrunching your nose at him reflexively before placing your phone back in your pocket and holding your arms out toward him so he could brace himself. "Tuck your feet back into the drum."

You heard the slightest grumble from him before he wrapped a hand around one of your arms, did exactly as you said, and then wrapped his other arm across your shoulders while he tried to find his footing in the undoubtedly slippery interior of the water drum. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered under his breath, pulling you closer as you gripped the towel that was handed over to you and making quick work to spread it out and use it as a cover from prying eyes and wild cameras once his feet were firmly planted on the ground again.

The heavily curious gazes of everyone around you gave you enough pause to not wrap the towel around his waist, realization quickly dawning on you that the gesture would definitely be seen as a show of intimacy. You avoided his gaze as he took the towel from you, opting instead to lead the way to behind the backdrop, picking up his cleats and bag on the way.

You felt the irrational bristling of your skin as the sound of women giggling and commending your boyfriend on his form throughout the drills hit your ears, your hands finding it difficult to grasp the small laundry pouch you'd packed in his bag and a fresh pair of socks from the near violent shaking. When a familiar ridiculously large hand appeared in front of your face, you looked up abruptly to find Tom standing above you, the smile on his face growing brighter when you placed your hand in his and stood up.

"You're shaking," he murmured, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Come here."

He caught you off guard when he tugged you into his arms, a small yelp escaping you before you could stop yourself that had you hoping that nobody on the other side of the backdrop heard it. "What're you doing?" you questioned him in hushed tones, holding back your giggles as he pressed the fluffy sleeves of the bathrobe that he wore to your face and neck. Your hands wrapped around his wrist when he started patting at the exposed skin of your chest. "Sweetie!" You couldn't hold back your giggles when he used his free arm to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

"You're wet," he said simply, continuing to pat at your dampened skin.

"Well I'm your girlfriend, it kinda comes with the territory," you quipped, letting out another barely muted squeal when he pulled his hand from your grasp and grabbed the back of your head to pull you in for a kiss. Almost immediately you melted in his arms, both of you smiling against each other's lips as you wrapped your arms around him. "Private--"

"This is private, goddess," he cut you off, capturing your lips in another soft kiss. "Public would be bringing you to the center of the field and marking you again with everyone as witness so that there isn't a shadow of doubt in anyone's mind that you're mine."

The sound of the camera crew calling out for him snapped you two out of your moment. "Give me a minute," he hollered out, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before loosening his hold on you and letting you step back from him. You offered him your hand to hold himself steady while he changed out the soiled socks from the challenge. "Did you take a look at the hot sauces on the table?"

"Of course I did," you quipped, scrunching your nose at him when his eyes flickered to yours. "Don't take the green one, it's a trap."

"I'll keep that in mind," he murmured, eyeing you with a smirk when he stood upright and you took his shin guards from him. "And what exactly are you doing, darling?"

You answered him with a playful grin. "Oh I'm sorry. Would you like to try putting these on through two layers of fluff?" He answered you with a minute shake of his head. "No? Well alright then." You proceeded to crouch down and place the shin guards under the knee-high socks, only stopping when you heard a shutter from above your head and looking up at him from your position with a bemused smirk. "Really, Tom?"

"It needed to be done," he said with a chuckle, waving your phone tauntingly in his hand. "After all, you do look so tempting from this angle. Let me just send this to my phone really quick."

You made a point to audibly snap the garter of his sock against his skin, making him jump the slightest bit and squint his eyes at you as you rose to stand upright again. "Give it back," you cooed, holding your hand out. Instead of doing just that, he grabbed hold of your hand and closed the distance between you, placing your arm over his shoulder as his hands roamed down your back before settling in your back pockets.

Before you could say a single word, he pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss and you could feel the weight of your phone back in your pocket. As well as his hand grabbing a handful of your ass before he pulled away. "I love you," he whispered, briefly brushing the tip of his nose across yours before stepping backwards, back to the set so that the World Team could have their turn at the ice baths.

"I love you, too." The sound of the crew calling out your name this time and telling you to come help in setting up the next batch was enough to wipe the smitten grin off your face and send you running in the other direction.

A/N: Starting off my 5-day weekend strong with a new Soccer Aid piece out! I have one more that I'm gonna focus on before I give Soccer Aid Hiddles a break from the page for a while to focus on…'relinquish the crown: plans & protestations'! 😳👀 It's been too long since I've written those two blorbos and I miss them so they're next 💖

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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acrowwithakeyboard · 3 months ago

Text

CVF fights and who seems to be able to beat who if caught in friendly fire

Putting a spoiler curtain over so it isn't taking up a huge chunk of screen unless you want to read

Basically what the tins got printed. While I try to rotate for a smaller group, sometimes my LDBs (mostly Ieama) has 8 people trudging along behind. When everyone aggros on a wolf the chances of someone NOT hitting a ally is never zero. There's been enough fights that I can figure who can beat who in a fight, tie with, or otherwise has a fluctuating score going. I’ve compiled more or less how the followers I currently have fare against each other in those fights. Now this is all based off of fights in my game, so if they are better in someone else's, I'll raise a glass for ' 'em!

Val: Spellswords are devastating. Pirates play dirty. Being both means he's not an easy opponent. He can take Redcap and Auri most times (unless Auri is far enough and has a clear shot she can take him out before his spells can reach her, while Redcap is a fast little friend and dodges his spells well). He hasn't fought Remi, though I think its just luck on that part, and it’s fluctuating with Tally and Xelzaz (I figure them to be a strategic lot, along with Nebarra), Gore has beat him down more than he’s won (their fighting lines really make for a scene) and he has yet to start shit with Nebarra, so we don't know yet if he would win or not. I'm thinking he'd lose though.

Auri: A very good archer indeed, she doesn't miss much, and constantly moves and creates distance between her and whoever messes with her. Can take down Nebarra and Redcap (the former usually isn't fast enough to get into close combat, and she has wicked aim when she's mad). She has not been in a fracas with Gore or Remi (by sentiment or luck I'm not sure) while Val, Tally and Xelzaz and can go toe to toe so the win/lose ratio is fluctuating. Generally, she fights the last three as an aid to someone else. Her taunts and fight lines about her eating her enemies hearts might also add a touch of fear into most of her opponents too. (Also, she keeps shooting me but I usually front line enemies, so, well call it an accident)

Gore: Generally, once he's set to beat someone's face clean through their ass he's not stopping, and will shrug off whatever is thrown at him to get the job done. He can and will fuck up Val, Xelzaz, Tally and Redcap if they hit him, (the first two have had wins, but Gore has beaten them more, the latter two... tried at least, but only managed once each) but he will get cut to ribbons if he pisses off Nebarra. He can adapt or overcome different opponents in close combat very well with his chosen weapon, and seems to have different approaches to each opponent. He will not hurt Auri or Remiel though. Not sure if he’s just never gotten aggro’d on those two or vise versa, if there’s a implemented code to keep him from going berserk on em, or he’s uniquely aware Auri will eat him should she kill him and just decided to Not Do That and Remi is, in his words, like a little sister so he wont hurt her no matter what, but he’s yet to fight them.

Remi: She generally gets people with a combo of skill and teamwork, and is pretty resourcful, Scrap helping out is also a given. Has beaten Xelzaz but apologized profusely, almost beat Redcap but stopped herself, and tried Nebarra but it, didn't go well. Most time if she is hit someone jumps in to help (Scrap automatically, but Gore also jumps in, and he can smoke quite a few folks in the party). She hasn't attacked Gore, Auri or Val, as of right now, BUT has had a near 10 minute long knock out drag down fist fight with Tally on a mountain in the Rift that ended in a tie and I’m waiting for round two to see who wins. They've yet to re-instigate the fight since. Scrap helped but she held her own very well without him after he was ejected quite suddenly from the fight.

Tally: He lasts a longer in a fight with people than other combinations, win or defeat. I chalk it up to him being used to close combat, working in and out of groups, and his experience in the Great war. Him and Nebarra are long time contenders and he’s won by both scrape of luck and strategy, has fought Xelzaz well and won more (only recently, not by much though). He got folded by Gore a lot when we first found him, still gets folded on the occasion, and he's only had one win against him. Auri has head shot him more than I can count but ultimately they are fluctuating, and Remi and him have had no winner but the longest fight I’ve ever seen between followers without one or the other falling. Neither were downed and I am waiting for the next one with concern and excitement.

Xelzaz: That Telvanni's stray firebolts have started a lot of fights. But as a good poisoner and a well taught wizard, he's got a good standing with most combatants. He has won some fights (Nebarra if he’s not right next to him immediately, Auri he has surprising good aim on though they are more or less equal) he can contend with Val and Tally for a bit, situational on who loses more, but apologizes to Remi and Redcap if he starts something with them, though he's been downed by Redcap. Gore I think has the drop on him with heavy steel and fast reflexes and the general bullheaded determination that affords pushing through being actively burnt and poisoned by Xel’s spells and weapons, so Xelzaz loses a fair bit more with him.

Redcap: Small body, big determination. He has beaten Gore, once. It was in Bleak Fall and he had 4 spears launched at him before he got close enough to hit Redcap, after which he made short work of the fight. He has had fights with him since but Gore is not an easy fight and gets the win now. Tally is his most recent win, (I got hit in the crossfire in that one), and he has taken Xelzaz down a few times but does stop the fight usually before that, same with Remi, if it happens at all. He’s been skewered by Auri, her aim is pretty damn good despite his small stature and speed, and he does damn well against Nebarra but ultimately loses (Nebarra usually gets him from behind first for some reason). Val can contend and win sometimes but hes small and VERY good at dodging Val's lightning. He also has skewered me and I and pretty sure I have died from a spear and low health combo once, so I’ll give that to him.

Nebarra is a vicious, embittered veteran of the Great war and it shows. Gore is often down in seconds, Remi taken off guard faster than you can say Dwemer, Redcap didn’t know what the Oblivion hit him, pretty sure Val hasn’t fought him only out of some begrudging respect for his skills. Regardless of these wins, him and Xelzaz have an Equal standing score more or less. Auri and Tally though are the closest thing to HR intervention to his not-so-appropriate comments on other races, but even then, those are hard won fights on their side. He's an old soldier doing whatever it takes to survive. This mer does not pull punches.

Finally, Scrap has taken down Gore, Auri, Xelzaz, Val, Redcap and a two of Xelzaz’s flame Atronachs, and they’ve all only fought him once ish to a completion. (the rest were stopped before his intervention) He attempted to aid Remi with her and Tally’s throw down but was blasted off the cliff by a well-placed ice spike. So, technically, Tally has probably the most wins against scrap in the group. But in conjunction with that, Scrap is the best fighter based on ratio of wins vs loses.

Ieama is one who has seen the most of these fights, and mostly let them resolve with a win before intervening. She is of the idea that beating the Oblivion out each other builds character and strengthens relationships. She is also a firm believer of 'talk shit, get hit' in Nebarra's case.

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