#and i only cut myself 3 times while carving it

[leftoverlemonpeels]

This is pretty much my first attempt at block printing ever

It's a beetle!

It's not great but it's so much better than my first attempt so yippee

[witchywcmans]

PLEASE, EAT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ after you've been bitten by a sea serpent, you know the consequences are either death or the possibility of turning into one yourself. thankfully for you, laios touden is the devourer of all things monster and he is dedicated to getting that venom out of you. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ sex pollen-adjacent, cunnilingus + fingering, praise, breath play (kinda, if you squint), semi-public sex, multiple orgasms. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 3k

song inspiration ━━ too sweet, hozier / more than friends, isabel larosa

author's note ━━ this is the first time I've ever written and posted an x reader one-shot on here, so please be gentle with me lol. I usually only write x oc fics bc I'm a yapper and I love creating characters. but alas...I was perusing the laios x reader tag and wanted to read something with this plot, couldn't find it, so I figured I'd just do it myself 🫡

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

This was definitely one of the worst situations you’d been in.

You had joined Laios’ adventuring party just a few months prior. They had found you on floor 3 of the dungeon, shivering and mourning the loss of your father. His body, dead in your arms, and beside him lay the lifeless body of a ghoul you had killed. At first, the party’s leader, Laios Touden, had only been interested in taking the ghoul's body so they could use its bones for utensils after the flesh rotted off. But it was Marcille who noticed the tears in your eyes, how you trembled from the cold, and suggested they take you in. You almost declined, not wanting to leave your father’s body, but knowing he’d soon turned into a monster left you with only one option. Your father had been with you for the past twenty-five years of your life, and now, you were leaving his dead body in a dungeon to travel with a group of strangers.

You soon came to appreciate your new party, though, and you felt your father’s spirit within each of them. Marcille had his kindness, Chilchuck had a comparable wit, Senshi was gifted with excellent cooking skills, and Laios … well, you were still figuring that out. And surprisingly, it was Laios who you began to connect with the most. His knowledge of monsters was unmatched, and he had a passion for learning how to prepare them while they traveled deeper into the dungeon. He was overtly blunt, much like you, and possessed similar advanced fighting skills due to both your fathers' teachings.

Sometimes … sometimes though, you found yourself staring at him more than you should have. His face was abnormally perfect, as if he’d been carved by an artist. His tousled ash-blonde hair reminded you of a lion, and his eyes … sometimes you could’ve sworn they were made out of gold, shimmering like molten lava. Each time you thought this way, you smacked yourself when no one else was looking. I mean, Laios was your friend, your party leader. Having a crush, especially in circumstances like these, was unethical. You had always been focused on one thing: helping your party and making it out of this dungeon alive, for your father. You wouldn’t let a little crush deter you.

Everything had been all well and good until today, when you and your party reached the end of floor 4. When Laios had struggled to fight off a sea serpent, you joined him in the lukewarm water, using your crossbow to shoot the creature in the head. Finally, Laios was able to step in to slice the serpent’s head off … but not before the creature could snap its jaw, tearing one fang down your hip. You jumped back, screaming as you felt the venom seep into you instantly. Some said sea serpent venom would kill you immediately, others said it turned you into one of them, cursing you to haunt the waters with them as penance. As soon as the head was cut, Laios carried you away from the water, and the last thing you heard was Marcille cursing him out before you were rendered unconscious. 

You were woken up ��� hours, maybe days later – by a drop of water hitting your face every few seconds. Lifting your head from the makeshift tunic pillow, you took in your surroundings. You were at the entrance of floor 5, in a damp corner of cobblestone, while water dripped down onto the floor every so often. There was a moist bandage covering your side where the serpent’s fang had cut into you, part of your tunic ripped to shreds. Hunger boiled in your stomach, making you groan and rub your head. Laios was sitting just a few feet away, a small fire in front of him to keep warm. Marcille had to have helped him with that; there was no way to craft a fire in an area this damp.

“Am I dead?” You asked softly. 

Laios immediately turned in your direction, his mouth lifting in a smile. “Of course not.”

Your stomach did flip flops as you took in his smile, hunger consuming you. You needed something to eat – bad. Your body felt hot and sweaty, and you wondered if it was just from the humidity, even though Laios didn’t look affected. Sitting up, you informed him, “Well, that was one of two options my father said would happen from a sea serpent bite. Which means …” You lifted the bandage up, noticing the gills that started to form on the healing wound. A turquoise hue surrounded the gills, almost like a bruise. “Oh, fuck,” you muttered.

Laios stood, looming over you while asking, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s the other option,” you replied, too hungry to cry. “The bite is –”

“– Turning you into a sea serpent,” Laios finished. “Honestly, I thought that was just a myth. But when the bite didn’t kill you …” His mouth twitched, tongue darting out to wet the corners of his lips. “We have to suck the venom out. That has to stop the mutation.”

Your head snapped up. “Huh?” 

But as soon as your eyes met his, you started to wondered if what you were experiencing was hunger after all. Perhaps … a different kind of hunger. Laios stared down at you, the sparkling gold replaced by a dark hazel. It was just you two in this little corner of the dungeon, but you suddenly felt exposed, so naked, under his gaze. Your body was hot all over, sweat sticking to uncomfortable places. And your thighs … a burning need emerged between them, soaking the thin linen of your undergarments. This had to be a symptom of the bite, but it suddenly didn’t matter anymore. Your worry had been replaced by an ache that only he could fix.

No – absolutely not. You couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You were turning into a sea serpent.

But the need between your legs still throbbed.

“It’s like when a snake bites you on the surface,” Laios said, crouching down to your eye level. His closeness made your heart rate pick up. You realized then that he had shed his armor, kneeling in front of you in just his gambeson, which clung to his muscles and wide frame. “A sea serpent is part snake. Sucking out the venom should stop the mutation. You’ll probably experience symptoms from the bite for a few more hours, but they’ll stop eventually.” 

He started to peel back the bandage, taking a look at the gills forming on your hip when you gripped his wrist. Immediately, his skin burned, making you even more hot. You ripped your hand away from him, and with sweat trickling down the side of your face, you said, “Don’t you think this is … weird? Maybe Marcille should do it.”

“Marcille and the others just went back to another part of the level to find dinner. They won’t return for an hour, at least. This can’t wait.” He inspected the turquoise gills with concern, before his eyes snapped back to yours, noticing the way your black pupils filled almost the entire iris. “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course, I trust you. It’s just …” What exactly was the reason again? Oh, yes, it was pulsating hunger dripping between your legs from the bite, and you were terrified how you’d react the second his lips wrapped around your wound. The symptoms would just get worse. But he was right – this was the only way. Fuck, this had to be the most embarrassing thing you’d ever experienced. 

“Fine,” you finally relented, lying back down on the cobblestone. You did your best to get comfortable, but the makeshift pillow hardly provided much cushion between you and the floor.  “What should I do?”

“Nothing, just lay back and let me take care of it.” Laios lifted your tunic a smidge, and just the tenor of his voice made your ache even worse. “We’re just gonna … get this out of the way. And then …” His fingers hooked on the waistband of your pants, and you immediately clutched his collar. If you touched his skin again, you were sure to moan.

Laios looked from where your hand was gripping him and back to your eyes. “Your pants need to be off so I can have better access to the mutation. It’s on your hip.” You swallowed hard, knowing he was right, and your hand started to slip off his collar. “We’re friends, right?” He asked.

You nodded weakly.

“Good,” he smiled again, and you struggled to hold back a plea for him to touch you. He pulled down your pants, tossing them to the side. For a moment, he paused, taking in your soaked underwear and running his fingers over the mutation on your hip. He licked his lips again, and then said in a rather blunt tone, “You’re so –”

“Don’t say it,” you cut in, snapping your eyes shut to prevent further embarrassment.  Though you had never minded Laois’ occasional lack of social cues, this was one of those moments you needed anything but. “Just get the venom out.”

Laios tugged your underwear down a little to see if the mutation had spread. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he informed you, lowering his head to your hip. “I’ve read that these bites can have a multitude of internal symptoms. Nightmares ... sweating … fever …” He ran his tongue over the gills, making your breath hitch instantly. “… And especially, arousal. Neat, huh?” He chuckled, and just his warm breath on the gills made you even more wet. “Don’t worry, I got you,” he assured before finally wrapping his mouth on the wound.

Your body burned even hotter than before as soon as his lips touched your skin. He sucked the venom out of you, spitting out blue globs every other second. His hands gripped your side, digging into your flesh and leaving crescent shapes from his nails. As you felt the gills start to close up, you couldn’t help but moan and arch into nothing. This felt better than any time you masturbated … any time you imagined your party leader above you … Fuck, who would’ve thought sucking sea serpent venom out of you would feel this good? Thank the gods the rest of their party was off catching dinner. You couldn’t deal with them possibly hearing this.

It surprised you when your orgasm flooded through you like a crashing wave. As Laios finished sucking out the last of the venom and the mutation closed, your arousal came to a definite peak and you let out a whine. You grabbed his arm, cumming from absolutely no stimulation.

Laios didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he was mostly preoccupied with inspecting the area. You opened your eyes, your cheeks tinged pink, and saw the globs of venom to the left dissipate to nothing but water. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I’m sorry, I –”

“The mutation closed. I was right!” Laios looked down at you, a big grin covering his face. “How do you feel?”

“Well, I definitely don’t feel a second set of lungs on my hip anymore.” You lifted your hand when you noticed a trickle of blue staining his lip, wiping it away with your thumb. “But I … my body is still …” The ache inside you had simmered slightly, but it was still there, lingering underneath the surface. 

This was genuinely humiliating. Maybe you should’ve just decided to turn into a sea serpent after all.

Laios grabbed your wrist before you could pull away from his face. He leaned into your palm, running his long nose down to your inner wrist. “Your skin is so warm. I can still smell how aroused you are from the serpent bite.” His eyes burned into yours, keeping your hand close to his face. “I can help. Do you need another release?”

Your cheeks got even more red when he acknowledged your orgasm. Shaking your head, you said, “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can just –”

“I’d be honored to,” he replied, quite gruffly and persistent. His fingers tugged your underwear down with precision and ease, despite the damp fabric clinging to you. He spread your legs wide and placed them on his shoulders. Lowering himself down, he inhaled the scent of your climax and hooked his arms around your inner thighs. He smiled up at you – your pretty face red with embarrassment – all dopey-eyed and grateful. “You lot like to call me the devourer of monsters. Perhaps I should devour the last bit of monster out of you.”

He inhaled again, groaning like he typically did when he was hungry. His hot breath against your achingly wet pussy made you whimper with desperation. “You smell so good down here,” he whispered. “I’d wager you taste even better.”

You gasped as soon as he dove between your legs, licking a stripe through your folds, tasting your recent orgasm. He flicked his tongue over your clit before sucking on it with feverish excitement. Slick gathered on his tongue and he whined, needing more. So much more. You were the most delicious meal he’d ever tasted. Better than any monster, better than anything on the surface. 

“So good,” he muttered into your pussy, lapping against your clit, doing anything that would get him more of your arousal. “You taste so, so good.”

You whimpered out his name and attempted to close your legs, but he held them opened with all his strength. His arms wrapped around your thighs went tight, bruising the sensitive flesh. Your jaw went slack while your own hands scrambled for purchase, eventually landing in his cropped hair. You tugged, hips bucking against his face, making him groan even more. This allowed him to hold your hips a little higher, and his tongue finally dipped into your leaking entrance. You heard him grunt the second he plunged his tongue deeper, his nose nuzzling your clit. 

He devoured you like a starved man. He devoured you like you were a boiled scorpion, or roast basilisk, or – even better – like sweet, delicious homemade cheesecake. 

“Laios,” you whined, feeling your fever dissolve with each lap of his tongue. “Laios, it’s … fuck – it’s okay, I feel –”

“Need more,” he muttered, his voice low and laced with need. He was practically humping the stone floor as he buried his tongue as far as it could go inside you. Your hips couldn’t stop bucking forward, riding his face as you felt your orgasm building at the base of your stomach. Laios was completely transfixed. He wanted to be here, nestled between your thighs, for every meal. He’d take you away from the rest of the group before dinner, lapping away to the sounds of your pleas and whimpers, so help him gods. He’d do this every day, every night, whenever you wanted, for as long as he was alive. Fuck monsters. He could survive off the taste of you for the rest of his life.

Slipping his tongue out of your hole, he went back to sucking on your throbbing clit and feeling your legs start to tremble. You had to be close to another release, and he was desperate to taste it. He paid all his attention on your clit, snaking one hand up and sinking two fingers knuckle-deep into your entrance in tandem. “Fuck,” you moaned, tugging on his hair once again, “fuck – gods, Laios. I – I’m s-so close –”

“Please,” he begged, smearing your slick all over his mouth. “Please, you’re so good. Need to see how you taste when you release on my tongue.” His own hips continued to buck against the floor.

You choked on a cry when you finally came all over his tongue. He groaned, loud and drawn out, when he finally got a taste of your sweet climax, knowing that it was him that brought you to this point. The orgasm felt long, like the ocean bringing you in and out, and your whole body trembled. He continued lapping at your clit as it pulsed under his tongue, his fingers curling inside you through your orgasm. When you finally breathed out and started to come down from the high of it all, Laios stayed between your thighs, allowing his tongue to gently swirl your clit. Maybe if he continued, he could taste a little more of you …

You found your voice, hoarse from overstimulation. “Laios, please, you have to stop,” you begged, yanking his head up from between your legs. His mouth was covered in your slick, and then he was giving you that dopey expression again, making your heart clench. Your body was no longer hot and sweaty. Laios had completely cured you of the sea serpent bite with that expert mouth of his. He unwound his arms from your thighs, bringing his fingers that were still covered with your wetness to his mouth, tasting the last of your orgasm. You watched him, eyes wide and cheeks blushing, until he was looking at you again with those golden doe eyes.

“That was amazing,” he said, like he was in a haze. When your eyes flickered down, you realized he was hard in his pants, but it wasn’t like he even noticed himself with the way he was staring at you. “We should do that again sometime.”

He stood up, and you scrambled to pull your clothes back on before the group came back. You stammered, “It’s okay, uh – we don’t have to. Especially if you don’t want to. We could just –”

“I want to,” he cut in, a determined look in his eyes. “What are friends for, right?” 

[fallenisded]

Baby, it’s cold outside…

Pairing: Sunarin x an absolutely downbad (writer) barista!reader <3

a/n: what is up chat, its been two years since i last posted a little something. Im going through it.. 🫠 And tumblr sunarinxreader tag is lacking right now,,, so here’s a little something while an exam thats going to determine my future is literally just a week away :3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The soft chime of the bell that hung above the door signals the departure of the last customer of the warm, coffee scented cafe. You stood behind the counter and thanked the stars internally. That guy has been sitting in the corner for hours since he first came, thank god he finished whatever he has going on with him.

“Oh, he finally left huh?” The Manager came out of his little camping spot and chuckled softly when he saw his only still checked barista deflated at the same spot they stood at, completely drained from acting all cheery for service. “You betcha he left. If not, I would have forced him out myself by blasting Mariah Carey obnoxiously.”

Right after saying that, it came back as quickly to bite your ass. A tall lanky guy entered the cafe, with that stupid jingle of a chime that you’ve heard more that you can count on for the entire day today. Looks like the poor barista really needed to blast Mariah Carey now. You really looked like you wanted to choke the living daylights out of..oh wait..why is he kinda…

“Hi, sorry. This place isn’t closing anytime soon right?” Well, technically no, because they would close at 10. Now let’s take a look at the time, oh! It’s 9:48. Yeah, totally. Just when they were going to open your mouth to answer the gorgeously handsome, jaw dropping man that seemingly just came out of a romance shoujo, the manager cut you off by a second. “Don’t worry, we can still serve one last customer,” What the fuck.

“Thanks, can I have a mint macchiato? Hot,” A mint macchiato. At 9:48 at night. On Christmas Eve. Just who is this man? The manager immediately enters in the order without even a slight hesitation. “And to who?” You could practically see yourself banging your head onto the coffee machine. Is this really a good idea, Mr Manager??

“Suna,” Okay nevermind. Not only is his appearance an eye candy, even his name sounds hot. “Alright, our lovely barista here will call out to you when they’re done with your drink,” the receipt machine prints out the paper slip after this greek carved Suna taps his card onto the card reader. You glared at the manager when he mentioned you, muttering curses underneath your breath as you positioned yourself at the coffee machine to make the espresso. 

The familiar aroma of the espresso beans filled your senses as you grumpily clicked the filter onto the machine, letting it brew. You got out the proper cup and drizzled it in peppermint syrup. Getting out the milk from the fridge to make the foam, you noticed Suna was watching your every movement over the little glass panel that separated the two of you. Most of the time, this would be called creepy. But when it’s him, it’s strangely flustering. Could you imagine a drop dead gorgeous guy is just watching over you as you make his drink? There’s just something so intimate and domestic about it.

“S-Suna,” You stuttered out after assembling the drink. The flustering got to you. After this, you are going to clock out and this embarrassing act of yours is going to haunt you until the next day of Christmas. Suna’s cold fingers accidentally grazed onto yours when he went to get his MINT MACCHIATO, letting you get goosebumps everywhere. He’s abnormally cold. Must’ve been outside. Who are we kidding, of course it’s outside. “Thanks,” And he seemed to catch their stutter with that disgustingly dreamy smirk of his. He brings the cup to his slightly chapped lips to take a sip, satisfied with the taste, he lets out a sigh that looks like it was kept inside for too long. 

Instead of moving to sit at one of the many comfortable seats that’s prepared for the participants, he just stood there, leaning on the self-collecting counter like he’s taking a photo for a modelling agency. The manager was long forgotten about as these two just stood there in silence while Suna enjoyed his drink. 

For the barista, it felt awkward to watch a man they found so attractive drinking the drink they made.

For Suna Rintarou? He liked watching the expressions and how awkward they can get even though they were grumpy while prepping his drink for him. He found it adoring.

He didn’t know what made him rush into the cafe. But what he does know is how much this barista attracted him when he saw them all deflated on the counter when he stood outside the cafe, on his phone with an annoying twin on the other line. With snow landing in his fluffy brown hair and on the shoulder’s of his coat.

“Tsumu, I’ll call you back later. This person is pretty cute,” That was all he said before hanging up.

“Sorry if I stopped you from going back home. I know it’s Christmas Eve and all.”

“Huh?”

Suna turned around to face you properly, he locked eyes with you, making your breath hitch. Holy fuck, his eyes are so beautiful.

“Excuse me?” HIs voice dragged them out of your own head. Wait, why does his face seem a little more flushed than before?

“You just called me beautiful..?” He chuckled softly. This time, it was your turn to feel your cheeks get warmer. Ding, you just said your thoughts out loud. You just dug your own little grave of embarrassment. “Oh my god.”

================================================

a/n: WOOOOOOO I FINISHED TYPING THIS IN AN HOUR GRWAWWWWWWW

[somniumfaults]

"do you think we'll be together in every lifetime?"

ngl... i kinda made myself sad writing this one DDFHSKDJLKFGL... this was inspired by some chats I had w my guildies so shoutout to them for giving me fuel to break their hearts to <3 also a fill for @mastering-procrastinating's request ^^

listening to Toxy while posting this and ironically enough, I think the lyrics are kind of fitting LOL

to clarify if it doesn't become clear, this fic plays into the theory that haku's ability is time-travel-related! I definitely encourage reading that post bc its interesting and will give some perspective, but it's not necessary! :D also inspired by this and this tweets

pairing: haku kusanagi x reader

rating: G

prompt: “do you think we’ll be together in every lifetime?”

tags: established relationship, angst, time loop theory

Previous // part 3 of the “in every lifetime” series! // Next

“Do you think we’ll be together in every life?”

It’s only hours of practiced nonchalance that keeps him from coughing as he drinks his tea. As it is, the tightening of his fingers around the cup is enough of a slip in his control. He carefully measures each emotion he allows himself to give for others to see, and yet somehow, against all of his experience and expectations, you always manage to catch him off guard.

A part of him finds it beautiful. After all this time, he knows that you will always be just as charming as when he first met you. A breath of fresh air in the monotony of his days, making sure he’s never as bored as he could be. On the other hand, this is the one part of you he can never predict as well as he wishes he could. You make his life eternally difficult without even trying, hardly lifting a finger to break down his facades time and time again.

The worst part is that he knows you truly aren’t trying. To you, this is a simple question with an equally straightforward answer. A romantic indulgence at most. You don’t mean to send his mind scrambling for answers. You aren’t carefully dissecting him for his responses, knowingly carving away until you can cut into the part of his heart that you know will hurt the most. To you, this is love.

The worst part is that to you, this is love.

If it wasn’t love, it wouldn’t hurt. If it wasn’t love, he wouldn’t even be standing here. If it wasn’t love, the touch of your hand in his wouldn't justify everything he’s done up until now and then some as worth it. He wouldn’t feel like crying at such an innocuous question, wouldn’t clench his jaw and plaster on an easy smile with an indulgent head tilt to sweeten the deal. The princess that rolls off his tongue wouldn’t feel like a match lit in his mouth.

“Where’s this coming from, princess?”

(When you raise your brow at his response, he wonders how long it takes for the lies he lives to become truths. When will it finally become enough?)

You shrug. “Rui and I were talking about it earlier. With how things are looking for me nowadays… I thought it would be a nice thought, y’know? To be soulmates. We wouldn’t have to worry about sad goodbyes or anything.”

You don’t know what he’ll do for you. You’ll never know. You can never know. You can’t know.

He hums. 

“That would be nice,” he muses with a soft smile on his face, and it’s a relief when your expression of budding suspicion falls in the face of love. No matter how many lies he may tell, his love for you will never be one of them. The rest are nothing you need to further stress yourself over, no matter how difficult it gets to predict your doubts. “Knowing the trouble you attract, I’m sure our next meeting will be just as interesting as this one was.”

You bristle lightheartedly at the teasing, and he can’t help but let out a real, genuine laugh at it. The brightness of the smile he gets in return makes it worth it.

This is what it’s all for. Everything for this.

One day neither of you will have to worry about soulmates, lifetimes, or goodbyes. He won’t have to lie to you as easily as he breathes, and this burden will no longer be his to carry. But until that day comes, he can take solace in the sound of your laughter and the knowledge that with each failure, your peace comes in a next life of love.

This time, he won’t fail.

[nocturnesanomaly]

Chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

(Series Masterlist: Divine Violence) (Read on Ao3) (Inspired Playlist)

Series: The Divine Violence - chapter 8: Does it still hurt?

Wordcount: 5,9k

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x John "Soap" MacTavish x Gn!Reader

TW: (View masterlist for full series tw and tags) - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Religious Trauma, PTSD, Flashbacks, Hallucinations, Anxiety, Paranoia, Disturbing themes, Panic attack, Alcohol

Description: Simon takes you to the doctor in the morning, while Soap takes you to a bar in the evening.

A/N: My wrist is starting to flare up again, this shit is so hard to manage, ugh :( but I finally got the chapter finished. Almost ten chapters, I'm rather impressed with myself how far I've gotten already. My usual friend who reads through my stuff was unfortunately unavailable this time around, so I hope it's not too bad. Hope you all enjoyed <3

[Prev chapter / Next Chapter]

The sterile smell of the medical office is enough to make you want to collapse into a ball of an overstimulated mess. You felt guarded the second Simon had dragged you out of the house this morning, and here at the clinic it was no different.

The office itself is cosier than you'd thought it to be, there hadn't been a lot in the waiting room, and even the receptionist was exceedingly nice. And still, you couldn't find it in your heart to be as nice back to her. Your tone earned you a glare from Simon, but the man wasn’t one to talk, he hated trips like these as much as you.

"There we go...you're all good, let me just go finalize your file, and you'll be good to go," the doctor smiles at you. He'd been nothing but gentle and caring ever since you entered his office. Not that he had much of a choice with the imposing figure that was Simon, and your own death glares sent his way.

He rises from his chair and leaves the two of you alone in the medical office.

You slide your legs off the medical table, getting back up into a sitting position so you could shrug your pant leg back down. As you had suspected, you really hadn't needed to go here, but Price's insistence was something you couldn't get around.

As long as you took it easy, didn't do too much running, then it'd heal just fine with no extra help.

"I don't like him," you mumble to Simon when he hands you, your boots.

"You don't like any doctors" he grumbles right back at you.

You give him a glare that he remains unfazed to. "Am I wrong?" he asks with a quirked eyebrow, a knowing look on his face that made something inside your heart twitch.

He was wearing a black surgical mask; one Soap had shoved in his hand before he left the house. Price kept on insisting that he not be an idiot, and actually try to blend in a bit more. There hadn't been much protest from him, but he did seem more tense without the usual skull mask covering his features.

It was easier to hide behind a mask. To not let people see any humanity in you when you take them down. Every cruel act would be confined to the mask, it would a separation of who you truly are.

They had tried to force a mask upon you, create an identity they could shape and mould. They had failed with the mask, so they took something much more personal from you.

His mask was a choice.

Yours hadn't been.

Carved with tooth and nail, wooden and strong, it had been strapped to your face. Only a knife could cut it away the meaning it held even after you put it to rest. You could almost imagine it, the flesh peeling down from your face as you try to cut away the sins beneath. You could cut all you wanted; no amount of blood would wash you clean.

It would be so easy too.

The doctor had so many tools in here, each and every one could be used if you knew how, and you did.

Cut cut cut

Wash away the sins

"Spider?"

Ignore him

Your attention is brought back to him. It still feels foreign, that nickname on his lips so easily, as if he'd never stopped. It sounded different, with his voice being deeper, more brute. 

He always kept his voice a tad quieter when he addressed you, compared to how he addressed someone such as Gaz. It was different, yet still lacked the warmth he held for Soap.

You try to see past the cover of his face, but it all remains hidden to you. Even with the smaller mask. You should be able to see his face, the smooth skin beneath, his locks of hair. Instead, it's all covered in black shadows, creating a terrifying display of limbs and mass.

He reaches for you again, a steady hand to support you down from the table. You flinch away.

He tucks his hand back, crossing his arms in front of his chest. A defensive manner you'd say, but there are more layers to it. He lets out a deep-rooted sigh and turns away from you, picking up the backpack he'd brought.

Essentials, Price had said when he shoved it into his arms.

Essentials for what you can't quite imagine, you weren't planning on being out long. Simon unzips the bag, placing it on the table next to you to rummage through it. He picks out a wrapped sandwich, shoves it into your hands so you have no choice but to take it. He gives you a pointed look.

"You didn't eat breakfast."

"I wasn't hungry," you protest, but by the growl of your stomach, you aren't given much choice than to accept it. He keeps staring at you, and you realize a little late that he intends for you to eat it now. With a huff, you open it up and take a bite. It's actually not too bad.

The doctor comes back in soon after, forcing your muscles to tense up once more. He gives you a few painkillers, on the house he says, despite how you protest to it. Simon takes the bag for you, probably to make sure you actually kept eating your meal.

"Bloody hell...cold is starting to get annoying," Simon grumbles when the two of you exit the clinic.

"At least this place actually gets snow...most places I've been to recently have just been cold and wet...no snow," you tell him quietly while looking over at a young family of four going further down the street, probably on their way to the market.

"If we're lucky we'll have a white Christmas here too" Simon says in the same grumpy tone. He didn't seem all that excited about it. Maybe he'd rather be at home, and not out here. You'd understand that, not that you had anything to look forward to yourself.

"Lucky?" you raise a brow he doesn't get to see, your attention still darting between the people walking by and in and out of stores.

"Gotta look for the positives Spider..."

Simon gains your attention back with a wave of his hand, he gestures towards the store just opposite of the clinic.

"We should pop in before we head back...need a couple of things for dinner," He starts walking without much of a confirmation, forcing you to pick up the pace to keep up.

"Didn't Soap say he had a surprise for dinner?"

He lets out a rumble of a chuckle and shakes his head, "Yeah but something tells me it's not going to include a lot of actual dinner"

Soap has an eager smile when he leads the flock of you to his most recent discovery. He'd insisted the lot of you needed even a moments' relaxation, to do an honoured tradition within the group. It had been in your suspicions, but somehow you still find yourself slightly disappointed that it's just a bar.

"Beautiful corner piece of the town...or well...that is what ah was told," he takes the step down to the dark wood door. He opens it paying no mind to it's creaking in complaint; quiet music lures the lot of you closer to the dim lighted bar. He gestures with his head towards you, beckoning you inside.

You step forward with your question as you descend behind him, "are you sure this is really a good idea-"

An abrupt hand grabs your arm and saves you what could've been a nasty trip down the extra two stairs that comes after the door. "Easy! Watch your step," Soap chuckles, quickly letting go of your arm when you find your footing and take the last steps fully into the bar.

The rest follow close behind, some more eager than others at the prospect of a drink and some downtime without the stress. Someone answers your question, but you don't hear it. You're too busy looking at where Soap's touch had been, as if you expect burn marks to suddenly appear.

Three of the men walk past you, not minding your little stop in the middle of everything. They go to find a table in the back, taking in the rest of the bar. It's small and quaint, not room for many, but not a lot seems to even frequent this place.

You feel Simon's looming presence behind you. He's refusing to move past you, intent on not letting you be the last, for whatever reason.

You follow after the others. No need to hog the space and attract more attention than you undoubtedly already do.

The booth they've found sits up against the wall, close enough to the bar but also in the lower light of the back. Price and Gaz have taken a seat inward, Soap takes a seat at the edge next to Gaz and Simon next to Price.

You stop for a moment, contemplate where to squeeze yourself in. Soap moves further in and makes space for you next to him. You sit down with little other choice, but quietly appreciative of not sitting in-between the burly men. There was space to make a quick exit should you ever need it.

Simon's eyes meet yours briefly before you rip them away, putting your attention to Gaz and Soap who are already collecting the group's orders to go get them all some drinks.

"And what about you, Spider?" Gaz asks, an excited smile on his lips; he has a pretty glint in his eyes.

Of course. Alcohol.

When was the last time you drank any? Hard to say.

"Uh...yeah, whatever you're having," your mind is only been half there since the morning. Your thoughts occupied, as they often are. You survey the area, looking for the familiar faces, but your own mind sabotages your attempts.

The shadows are persistent.

You could only hope that the alcohol would silence them, even if only somewhat.

This was going to be an interesting night, that was for sure.

He set off enough time. A proper goodbye.

It's time to go. Simon knows it's time, the only way out of here is waiting for him, yet he can't get himself to move. The suns coming down, and you're still not here. He looks at his watch, the ticker going at a steady rate. It couldn't be his timing that was wrong. Despite your usual punctuality, you're late. 5 minutes he can handle, 10 even, but you're still not here and it's been 20 minutes.

And you were missing it.

Maybe you were still angry with him. Still too huddled up in your own thoughts of childish betrayal. He understood why you were upset, but he didn't understand why you were so hell-bent on resenting him for it.

He was getting his way out; you should be happy, right? It's what the both of you have been wanting for years. Since you were little kids and barely even knew each other. It was his only way out; he wasn't going to pass on it to keep you comfortable.

He would come back. He'd swear it to you, to any god that's never answered his prayers. He'll come back for you, to take you with him. When he's got enough money, a place of his own and a secure way out. He'll come save you.

He'll promise it as many times as he needs to, until you believe him, until you have enough reassurance to wait just a little longer.

But he can't wait for you forever.

He lets out a sigh, tugging his coat closer around himself. It's getting colder, the night air can be relentless.

"Where are you, spider..."

The graveyard looks lonely without you. It's hard to believe this is the place you've spent so many years, a morbid refuge only the two of you truly know. He could walk around blindfolded here if he had to, one time you even made him for a fun game. Perhaps it wasn't the most respectful thing for the dead, but you two kept them company in their cold, dark graves.

You'd all end up in the ground eventually, some sooner than others.

He had to go.

If you wouldn't come to him, he'd come to you.

He'd walked the way to your place countless times. Had sneaked around just the way you showed him. A rule the two of you had whenever you didn't come, typically you'd gotten grounded, because you never missed your hangouts, never. You showed him just where to step to not be seen, just where to hit the window to your bedroom to get it loose. A faulty lock that never got replaced.

He used his own precision to crawl into your room with as little noise as possible. A skill he hoped to refine when he got his place in the military.

He did it like clockwork, crawled inside like it was nothing.

But you weren't in your room, either.

It's not often Simon allows tears to rise to his eyes these days, but this hurt. It really fucking hurt. He was going to miss you way more than you knew, and you didn't even seem to care. Where the hell were you.

There had never been a whole lot to look at in your room. It was pretty bare-bones, always neat and clean because there were consequences if it wasn't. Too white and bare for his own taste as well. He might not be much better in decorating, but your room still seemed to be overkill in the amount of nothing it exuded.

Simon sat down on your bed, wincing at the creaking springs. He could only hope your absence meant that of your families as well. They'd never quite taken much of a liking to him, something about his lack of faith, something about his lack of showing it, or just about the family he came from. The reasoning never stayed the same for long.

"Oh, spider...what am I going to do with you..." he runs a hand over his face, following an exhausted huff.

He couldn't ignore it any longer. The time ticked on, and he didn't have forever. He didn't time, he never had enough time.

In a last effort to contact you, he grabs a page of your notebook, scribbling down a parting message for you. Hopefully you'd find it, hopefully you wouldn't hate him or blame him for how this is turning out. He tried.

He places it on top of your pillow, staring at it longer than he should. He knows he should get a move on, that the world won't wait for him, but part of him can't get himself to move. He still hopes you'll walk through the door any moment now. That you can get some time together, even if it's just a few seconds so he can kiss your lips and apologize a million times over.

The sound of the opening door makes his heart skip a beat; he turns around with a haste he didn't have before. He's disappointed to see it isn't you, only to be panicked at the knowledge that it really isn't you.

Simon is frozen in place, looking at the unfamiliar adult before him. He's got a piercing gaze, there's no question in his eyes, as if he already knows who and why Simon is here.

Simon's eyes dart up to the man's hair, something unnatural about the blonde colour, too bright and too slicked back to give off any comforting vibes.

"They're not here," his voice is icy cold, stating the obvious.

"I know-"

"You should leave, they don't need you here."

Simon's brow furrows at his words, taking offence to the near insult thrown his way. Who the hell even was this guy, and why did he care that much. One look at the time, and he reminds himself that it's not a fight he has the time for, not even to question the man.

"Yeah...whatever... I'm leaving...tell them I'm sorry I missed them," he walks towards the door, intent on leaving on more conventional means than he came in. He stops In front of the man, only now really realizing how big he was compared to Simon himself.

"Excuse me," he tries to walk past, but only receives another glare from him.

The message doesn't need to be spoken aloud for Simon to get it, but it doesn't make him any more happy about it. "Bloody hell, man, are you serious," he complains and crosses his arms.

"Get out."

The air has a crisp sense of the oncoming dark winter. Hell, it was practically in the middle of winter already by all the damned snow that just kept falling everywhere. It made for pretty scenery but came along with a cold Simon wasn't a fan of.

Still, it wouldn't keep him from ruminating by himself, smoke in hand, as he took time away from the stuffy atmosphere the bar started to adopt.

Unfortunately, Simon has a habit of stewing on old memories when he's left to his own devices. Typically, he goes over things in his past, painful memories like the good ones. Of his younger days in the military, of when he met Price, of how he became ghost, newer additions being his early relationship with Johnny and how it's evolved.

He finds it gives him a sense of peace to ruminate over his choices, whether good or bad. To analyse situations and prepare for similar ones, no matter the circumstance or person. Though ever since being shipped out here, his thoughts seem to only ever be on who his spider used to be.

Trying to piece together the puzzle of your mind and figure out how you became so. It's one of the greater puzzles of the universe. At least to him.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs one final time as his thoughts come to a close over the last memory. How he left you behind. Not a fond memory, and even then, his mind is a muddy walk to go through.

He pulls his cigarette away from his lips, lets the smoke run its course. There's not much left of it, and it was his last light. He'd be damned if he didn't savour it. He could likely bait Price into buying some more for him when he makes his own run to town for more cigars. If they even have any. The captain did have a particular taste, as much in people as his smoking habits.

This place hadn't been much help when it came to gathering intel. He was getting restless in the lack of progress. He knew it to be a delicate process, but normally he'd been able to probe somebody about something by now. He'd have a goal to focus on, instead he's left to wondering about too many things.

The only thing that was keeping him in somewhat of an amenable mood this evening was the towns’ ability to provide a decent drink.

If he was being fair to his own faults, he'd even allow himself to acknowledge how nice it was to be out with the entire team again, with you again. He'd been surprised to see you eager enough for a drink, finishing it off even faster than Johnny or Gaz.

It was nice to see you comfortable, to see you smile. Even if the alcohol likely had a part in getting you to be more open to them. You got a lot more daring, that was for sure, a lot more talkative. Not many of your stories made much sense, changing course and directive half-way through, but you did speak rather fondly of the old team you'd been with a few years ago.

Even if he hadn't been in on your life in a long time, he was glad you'd found comfort in others when he wasn't there to provide it. Even if you had changed, deep down you still kept the same quirks from when you were young, though of course more muted.

He exhales the smoke from his lungs along with a deep sigh. He wanted to get closer to you, but it felt like an impossible prospect. He didn't understand how Johnny made it look so easy, he could be at the ends of the earth, and he'd still make friends wherever that would be.

His attention is lured back to the door at the sound of the little bell ringing above it.

He watches as you come stumbling out of the little bar, almost tripping over your own feet as you take the three steps up. He raises a brow at your form, you definitely hadn't looked that drunk when he was in there. What the hell did you drink.

"You alright there, Spider?"

You garble out some nonsense before coming to stand beside him, leaning all of your weight back on the wall behind you. "Yeah...M'fine..." you said in the most unconvincing voice he's ever heard. He keeps his eyes on you, surveying your expressions. He wasn't about to let you barf all over him.

"You know... I wish I'd found you a bit earlier...you're all so nice..." you let out a little huff as if you'd been running for a while. You let out a quiet giggle, something he truly doesn't think he's ever heard you do, at least not like that.

"Yeah... It's good to have you back, Spider..." he almost allows himself to spout out how much he's missed you. It hangs in the back of his throat, right along with his emotions. It's not the time. He doubts you'll even remember this conversation in the morning. But maybe that was all the more reason to do it.

"Why did you even join up, spider?"

You don't answer at first, and he thinks that maybe you've already clocked out mentally for the night. Your head turns to look at him, something unreadable in your expression. "You never came back..." you sound sad, small in your voice.

His brows furrow, his mouth slightly open before he snaps back to reality and takes another puff of his cigarette. He realizes this is probably the first time you've seen this much of his face without the mask. He'd been lucky enough that it was late and not many around to stare at his ugly mug...but you.

He feels out of place under your gaze, an odd need to crawl away and hide in the darkest corner he can find. It's a foreign feeling with you.

"Figured I needed to do something with my life, and it's not like I had many other opportunities waiting for me back home," you turn your head away once again. For a moment, you sound completely sober, the conversation doing more for you than any amount of cold air ever could.

Then again, the more you seem to stand there, the more your grimace widens. In a swift motion, you push yourself away from the wall, putting your weight back onto your unsteady feet. You push past him, to the edge of the building, the little alley gap in-between.

"Hey where are you going!" he shouts out confused. You turn the corner of the building, disappearing into the darkness. His brows furrowed as he took another puff of his cigarette, hoping you'd emerge shortly after. Maybe you just needed to walk it off?

When he hears the horrid sound of your retching, he knew he was wrong.

"Oh, bloody hell," he throws his cigarette to the ground, crushing it against the pavement before hurrying over to turn the same corner. Surely enough, there you are. Bucked over and barfing up your insides, which seems to be more stomach acid and alcohol than any food.

His movements are as gentle as he can make them, not keen on having you flinch away from help when you're like this. He places his hand on your back, the other supporting your shoulder so you don't fall over. You don't seem to react at all.

"Steaming Jesus, ah was wondering where ye ran off to."

Simon turns his head, seeing Johnny come closer to the two of them. "How much did they drink..." Simon grumbles in a worried tone. When you seem finish puking, he helps you back up, steadier on your feet this time. With a groan, you lean back against the wall behind you.

"Ffffuck..."

"Didn't think ye drank that much...don't hold ye alcohol too well," Johnny gives you a cheeky grin.

You tip your head forward, losing your balance like a newborn foal. Simon is quick to act, gently cupping your cheek to hold up your head, so you don't hurt yourself. "You need to get back to the house and sleep this off..." he didn't think your tolerance would be this shit, but he doesn't recall you ever having much of a tolerance to begin with.

"Help me with them, will ya" Simon moves your arm, helping you use him as support. Johnny takes your other side, helping you lean on them both before they embark on the way back. They help you stumble back out of the alley, where they're met with the questioning stare of Kyle.

He lets out a low chuckle at the sight, "time to go, then?"

�� 

He'd found it amusing then, more frustrating now. "Spider- no- do not-" he puts a firm hand on your waist so you don't trip over your own legs down out of the car. You lean all your weight on him, and he has to do a mental double take to not keel over right along with you.

Getting you inside is a struggle and a half. Simon isn't sure where your little spouts of energy are coming from, but they surge through you at a random pace. You're almost worse than when you had just gotten freshly drunk in the bar itself.

"No, no... we need to.... ffgh-" you try to tell him something, but he doesn't have half a mind to listen when he needs to get you inside as quickly as possible. You refused to wear a jacket, and he will not have you freezing out here without you even realizing it.

Johnny comes up next to him, helps walk you inside, despite your little protests and seeming urgency to be somewhere else. "C'mon, let's get ye inside" he hooks an arm around yours and together the two of them manage to get you in.

The way to the bedroom is just as annoying and long as it was to get you to the car and back home in the first place. And then as the three of you reach the door, Price calls Johnny away intending on talking to him about something important, leaving Simon to bring you in and into your bed.

"There we go," Simon huffs as he gets you to lean on him again so he can close the door with a click. He tries to walk you in the right direction, but fails to steer you towards your own bed, charting a course for the one he and Johnny shared instead.

It didn't matter too much for one night, the three of you could switch if needed.

"C'mon love onto...the...bed," he manages to walk you backwards until the back of your knees meet with the bed and makes you fall down on to it with a huff. You mumble something incoherent again, writhing a little bit until you seem to deflate on the mattress.

Simon lets out a deep huff, standing back up to look at your dishevelled form. He'd dealt with Johnny drunk enough times by now, but at least he wasn't trying to run in ten different directions as if you were either late to something or running for your life.

Seeing as you'd clearly be incapable of taking care of yourself before you fell asleep, he might as well get to it. "Okay Spider...let's get you ready for bed," he mumbles and crouches down to take off your shoes, one and then the other.

"Mh...no..." you writhe a little bit.

"It's alright...you can sleep in a minute," Simon assures you, but he's not entirely sure if you even hear him. He walks over to your closet, rummaging through for something else to wear. He's stunned by how little you have, it's barely a hunt for it, it's right there within eye height.

He brings the other set of clothes over to your bed, not paying too much attention to your mumbling. He leans back again, running a hand over his face. How exactly was he supposed to do this. He doubted that you would change clothes if he asked you.

"M'sorry love but...well...you gotta," he lets his words trail out realizing you were definitely not listening to any words of assurance he was trying to give you.

Just gotta get it over with, and quick, you were starting to rile up again, and he wasn't about to go chasing after you again if you got another sprout of energy.

He leans over you and unbuttons your pants, but he hesitates as he pulls down your zip. Something in him feels awkward, and he switches his course of direction to your shirt instead. His hands gently reach for the edge of the white fabric.

"No-....m'not......can't....ready...."

His hands take a hold of it and with just as gentle movements he starts to pull it up your torso.

"No- NO! Father, please! Not again-"

He lets go like he's been burned. His eyes wide as he takes a firm step away from you in pure shock. His own heart pounds, his mind reeling to understand what just happened. You clutch your shirt around your abdomen, your body shaking like a leaf in the wind. Your body scrambles to lay further away from him on the bed.

His own hands shake, the worst-case scenarios running wild in his mind of all the possible ways he could've just hurt you.

And still, he doesn't understand your reaction.

"Spider..." he says quietly, carefully. You don't respond to it, so he calls your name even softer.

Your breathing is too rabid for his liking, but he doesn't want to risk touching you again. He doubts you'd react positively to it, and he knows that feeling.

At first, he's at a loss at what to do, how to make you calm down, but he realizes it's really so painfully simple. There's nothing much he can do, but he can do what he had wished someone had done for him way back.

Careful to not collide with your shaking form, he lays down beside you. You instinctively roll onto your side and curl up even further, but you don't turn away, so he takes it as a good sign. Your eyes are shut tight, and your body still trembling just as bad as before.

"I'm here..." he whispers quietly, without knowing if you can even hear him. He extends his hand between the two of you, he doesn't touch you, but it's there whenever you're ready. He doesn't know how long the two of you stay like that, and whatever Price needed Johnny for, he's glad it's taken longer than expected.

He doesn't move, almost doesn't dare breathe any more than necessary as he keeps his eyes on your form. His little praises and words of encouragement doesn't seem to do much, but his heart feels desperate.

Simon takes notice of every little movement, of every twitch and hitch in your breath when you slowly open your eyes to meet his. They're glassy, tears threatening to spill over, but they never fully come.

His hand grabs unto the sheets beneath to not reach out and touch your cheek, to be ready to wipe away any tears that may fall.

"M'sorry..." your apology is quiet and raspy, and for a moment it feels like you're still just the scared kids from back home, trying to survive in a world that's not built for them.

"It's just I-"

"You don't have to explain yourself..." he cuts you off sharply. He doesn't know if it was the right call from the deflated look on your face. You nod, biting your lip softly.

"Simon..." your voice is soft and searching. Your shaking hand bumps into his, and he takes it in his, feeling the coldness of your skin.

"It's okay..."

"Please don't go."

"I won't."

His answer is firm, it's the truth, and he would swear it to you if you asked. He's not going to leave. Not again. Never again. He's here to stay whether you push him away or not, he's here by your side, watching. Always.

He makes a decision on a whim without forethought. Simon's arm hooking around your waist and pulling you closer until he can envelop his arms around you and keep you close to his chest. You tense at first, before you relax in his hold, resign your drunken state to him in favour of falling asleep in the arms of the only person who's ever truly made you feel safe.

"M'not going anywhere, Spider..."

Simon doesn't dare move as you lay your head to his chest, and feel his heartbeat beneath his skin. He doesn't dare move when he hears your breathing even out. He especially doesn't dare move when he can feel your body go lax, and sleep take over you.

The door to the room opens with a quiet creak, and Johnny's footsteps comes closer to the bed. "Mh ah see ye got a head start then..." Johnny's smirk is too wide on his lip, and Simon could easily wipe it off if he wasn't holding something more important at that moment.

"Should ah be offended? Jealous even?" Johnny is merely teasing, but it still elicits a groan from Simon.

"Get in here, dumbass."

Johnny lets out a quiet chuckle, looking down at him with a fond smile. "Let me just...scoot in here..." he crawls unto the bed, struggling to make room for himself, but with a bit of adjusting to your sleeping form, Simon manages to make space for him.

"Are you done wiggling around trying to wake them?" Simon mumbles with a thick layer of sarcasm.

"Ah am not trying to-"

"Ssh!"

Johnny settles in, unashamedly cuddling up to your sleeping form and peeking at Simon over your head. "Goodnight, grump" Johnny whispers quietly, reaching over you to squeeze his arm. He lets out a quiet sigh, letting his own body relax down into the mattress.

"Goodnight, Johnny" Simon murmurs, watching Johnny ever so slowly join you in the realm of dreams.

As he lay there with two of arguably the most impactful people he's ever met, he can't help but feel a sense of warmth within him. Not a physical warmth, but a warmth that blooms in his heart. It's unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. The thoughts that occur with them are dangerous, unsure, things he'll undoubtedly have to entertain when the sun rises again.

But for now, he's content with holding his unknowing world in his arms, and let the warmth lull him into a peaceful sleep.

Likes, Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, love ya! <3

Taglist: @unlikelyaperson @ghostlythots @kaoyamamegami @lilynotdilly @chickennn-soupp @spicyspicyliving @ellabellabunny123 @woodlandgirl22-blog-blog @haipasa

[plushee-cant-draw]

Quotes, dialogue, and text for the new dst hallowed nights 2024 update.

Below a cut. due to the fact, that, like usual, it is very long. There's also spoilers for what's in the update.

Before I put all the quotes and stuff here, a note and a few questions:

From now on, if I miss quotes and notice it (or, for betas, when new items/quotes are added for hotfixes,) I'll reblog the post and put those quotes under a cut. In the past I usually wouldn't update these when I found new quotes or new quotes came out TwT

Usually I separate different characters and sections with 3 blank spaces, but for the future, would something else be better/easier to read/easier to navigate? maybe 3 spaces still but a few symbols like ~~~~~ or ^^^^^ on the second line?

would anyone maybe be interested on a video tutorial sometime in the future on how to open and navigate the character speech files + the string files (which contain npc dialogue and other things)? I considered making one before but didn't because I assumed there were probably already a decent amount of guides out there, but there doesn't seem to actually be that many.

ANYWAYS ONTO THE QUOTES. any notes from me will be in () from here on

PLAYER_HOSTED = "Inthralled Corpse", PLAYER_HOSTED_ME = "Deadelgänger", MASK_SAGEHAT = "Sage's Masque", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Halfwit's Masque", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Toady's Masque", PUMPKINCARVER1 = "Pumpkin Scooper", PUMPKINCARVER2 = "Pumpkin Knife", PUMPKINCARVER3 = "Pumpkin Saw", }, (Characters seem to only have 1 quote for all 3 of these.)

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Hallowed Night",

SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Void Masque", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE_ALLEGIANCE = "Herald of Tenebrau",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "The Enchanted Doll\nA Stage Play", (I believe the doll playbill has been in the game since the "a little drama" update, but I think some character's have new quotes for it? so character quotes for it will be included with the veil playbill even if its old. Also, while I haven't checked yet, my guess is that once you get the veil playbill you can swap it out with the doll one at the stage.) PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "The Pall\nA Stage Play",

(There also seems to be a quote for when trying to carve a pumpkin that is burning.)

(Also, at the bottom, below the character quotes, is the full script for the new play + the quotes of the void masques, which I think they say when possessing a mob, and possibly a player? There's also a scrapbook entry.)

Wilson:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "They're occupied.", ME = "I'm beside myself.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Looking sharp.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Seems a bit dull.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Should I just play along?", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "It makes my brain itch.", PUMPKINCARVER = "Who's up for a gourd time?", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Spooktacular!",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "This pumpkin is cooked.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "\"Authored by C.W.\"", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "\"Brought to you by the Heralds of Tenebrau.\"",

Willow:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Let's get you cremated.", ME = "Definitely cremation.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Creepy.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Looks dopey.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Not my thing.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Feed it to the flames!", PUMPKINCARVER = "Who's the lucky pumpkin?", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "This track makes me feel... mischievous.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "It's perfect.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "What a weird story.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "There's so much talking in this one.",

Wolfgang:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Hello? Do you remember Wolfgang?", ME = "Poor Wolfgang!", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Not Wolfgang style.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Silly face!", MASK_TOADYHAT = "It will hide handsome face of Wolfgang.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Just stay away from Wolfgang, okay?", PUMPKINCARVER = "Wolfgang is best pumpkin carver. Best.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "We listen together, yes?",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "No! Wolfgang's pumpkin!",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "Is very hard to remember so many words.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Wolfgang not afraid watch, just don't feel like it.",

Wendy: PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "A souless existence.", ME = "I don't need another dead twin.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "I already mask my emotions.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "I already mask my emotions.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "I already mask my emotions.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Parasite.", PUMPKINCARVER = "I love a pumpkin gutting contest.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Love it.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Oh well.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "What a strange little story.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Fun!",

WX-78:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "FILTY ORGANICS CAN'T EVEN STAY DEAD", ME = "NO, YOU ARE THE COPY!", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "ANNOYING", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "STUPID", MASK_TOADYHAT = "RIDICULOUS", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "NO ATTACHMENTS!",

PUMPKINCARVER = "STAB EVERY PUMPKIN", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "SLIGHT TOE-TAPPING DETECTED",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "SYSTEM MELTDOWN, JOB ABORTED",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "RUNSCRIPT \"THE ENCHANTED DOLL\"", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "RUNSCRIPT \"THE PALL\"",

Wickerbottom:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "An unsubtle reminder of one's own mortality.", ME = "How undignified.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "There are times one must take the helm.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "There are no small parts.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "We all have our role to play.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "A sort of parasite hailing from another realm.", PUMPKINCARVER = "I have carved many pumpkins in my day, and I was quite skilled.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Tsk. This type of music inspires all manner of mischief.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "A hot mess indeed.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "I suspect there's a deeper meaning to its storyline.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Rather on-the-nose, if you ask me.",

Woodie:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "You're not yourself lately.", ME = "That is throwin' me for a loop, Luce.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Think you're clever?", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Nice face.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "I dunno about this.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "It makes me uncomfortable.", PUMPKINCARVER = "Sure you can carve a pumpkin better, Luce. Sure.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "You can really... swing an axe to this.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Aw. That was my best one yet.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "The theater ain't really my sorta thing.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "I might sleep through it.",

Wes:

Maxwell:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "You've changed.", ME = "Jack? Wait, no.", (From what I can tell this is the only time Jack is mentioned by name in game and the second time Maxwell mentions him at all in his quotes. I AM a veryyy normal person about Jack and I feel a normal amount of feelings and emotions about this <- lying) }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "I'd prefer not to put that on my face.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "I'd prefer not to put that on my face.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "I'd prefer not to put that on my face.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "An unwelcome guest.", PUMPKINCARVER = "Delightful.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Ugh, no more.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "That's what I get for engaging in foolery.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "I think she's enjoying this a bit too much.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "It's a unique take, I'll admit.",

Wigfrid:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "I shall take no pleasure in destroying you, friend.", ME = "'Tis an abomination!", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Only a craven hides their face.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Only a craven hides their face.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Only a craven hides their face.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Keep away thy cursed embrace.", PUMPKINCARVER = "A child's toy.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "A serenade for the ghosts and ghouls.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Curses! I was not done with that!",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "I am not familiar with the playwright.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Hmm. 'Tis avant-garde.",

Webber: PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Remember me?", ME = "Gonna be our own best friend!", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Ooooh, they'll never guess it's us!", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Hehe, what a funny face.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "We wanna try this one.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Maybe it just wants a friend to play with.", PUMPKINCARVER = "Fun fun fun fun fun.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "We want candy.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Haha! Again!",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "What a funny play!", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "It's not scary. We won't cover our eyes.",

Winona:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Ain't nothin' right about that.", ME = "No, thank you.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Like wearin' a sculpture on your face.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Kinda idiotic.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "One size fits all!", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Looks like a real headache.", PUMPKINCARVER = "A pumpkin carver is only as good as their tools.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Gives me the heebie jeebies.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "You're supposed to light it after it's been carved.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "Somehow I think there's more to the story.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Who the heck is Herald?",

Warly:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Rest in peace... please!", ME = "My mind is scrambled!", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Fancy. What is the occasion?", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Bouffon.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "It has a strange expression.", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "It is one bad customer.", PUMPKINCARVER = "Ah yes. I can use this.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "It really sets the mood.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "You were too beautiful for this world.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "I wonder who will play the lead?", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Seems a little dark, no?",

Wortox:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Can't you see, you're dead to me?", ME = "As such, I've seen too much. Hyuyu...", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Hard to despise this disguise!", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Who's down to clown?", MASK_TOADYHAT = "A mask fit for the task!", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "That thingy looks clingy.", PUMPKINCARVER = "My turn to carve the lantern!", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Thrilling and chilling!",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "I weren't done, this burnt one!",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "A curious tale of friendship and betrayal.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "More of a controversial commercial.",

Wormwood: PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Dead friend", ME = "Dead me!", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Smarty face", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Cute face", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Friend face?", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "What Grabby Face want? Face?", PUMPKINCARVER = "Make pumpkin friend face", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Spooky spooky",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Naughty fire!",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "Sad story", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Scare show",

Wurt:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Weird game.", ME = "Look familiar.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Nice horns. Me wear.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Haha, silly.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "For play pretend?", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Aww. Just wants a hug. Florp!", PUMPKINCARVER = "Florp! Pumpkin poker.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Like this one.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Haha! Burning.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "Too many words to remember, florp.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Dunno. Ask Wicker-lady.",

Walter:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "Don't you recognize me?", ME = "Dead me walking! Ha... ha?", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "It's pointy.", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Heh, what a goofy face.", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Should I try it on, Woby?", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "I think it just wants a friend.", PUMPKINCARVER = "Safety first, Woby!", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "Instant classic!",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "Do I still get the badge?",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "It's like a radio play you can watch!", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Oooh, this looks spooky.",

Wanda:

PLAYER_HOSTED = { GENERIC = "A horrid way to go.", ME = "Better luck this time.", }, MASK_SAGEHAT = "Who has time for masquerading?", MASK_HALFWITHAT = "Who has time for masquerading?", MASK_TOADYHAT = "Who has time for masquerading?", SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE = "Wondered when you'd be showing up.", PUMPKINCARVER = "No time for fun... Well, maybe this once.", },

RECORD_HALLOWEDNIGHTS = "This takes me back.",

ANNOUNCE_NOPUMPKINCARVINGONFIRE = "What a waste of time.",

PLAYBILL_THE_DOLL = "What an odd little play.", PLAYBILL_THE_VEIL = "Rather disturbing if you ask me.",

Wonkey:

(Now, for the new play, and the soliloquies from the new characters. I. don't know how to access this in game, but this is the script for it I found in the code.)

SAGE_SOLILOQUY = { -- SAGE "Ye haven’t a clue what’s coming", "Something special, no doubt!", "Shall I spoil it for ye?", "I mustn’t!", "Ye’ll have to wait ‘til we’re complete!", "Patience, friends!", "PATIENCE.", }, TOADY_SOLILOQUY = { -- TOADY "Why did the playwright dim the lights in the first act?", "Foreshadowing!", }, HALFWIT_SOLILOQUY = { -- HALFWIT "Hath ye seen me chums?", "We came as three.", "Now ‘tis just me.", "Hath ye seen me chums?", }, THEVEIL = { BIRD1_1 = "Our next guests need no introduction!", BIRD2_2 = "Then why are we here?", BIRD1_3 = "Good point.", LINE1_SAGE = "Salutations, friends!", LINE2_SAGE = "We three be heralds of our tenebrous provider.", LINE3_TOADY = "Ooooh… tenebrous!", LINE4_SAGE = "Dark!", LINE5_TOADY = "Sooo dark, yes!", LINE6_HALFWIT = "Deadly!", LINE7_SAGE = "Not deadly.", LINE8_TOADY = "Benevolent!", LINE9_HALFWIT = "So benevolent!", LINE10_SAGE = "Ye hath queries.", LINE11_TOADY = "Ye art intrigued!", LINE12_HALFWIT = "Terrified!", -- LINE13_SAGE_TOADY = "…", LINE14_SAGE = "There is nothing to fear…", LINE15_TOADY = "From the dark, at least.", LINE16_SAGE = "Of what should ye be afraid?", LINE17_HALFWIT = "The dark!", --LINE18_SAGE_TOADY = "…", LINE19_SAGE = "No.", LINE20_SAGE = "Why, the accursed gleam of lumin, of course!", LINE21_HALFWIT = "Of course!", LINE22_TOADY = "From that blasted celestial orb!", LINE23_HALFWIT = "Ugh! Orb!", LINE24_SAGE = "Yes. \"Ugh,\" indeed!", LINE25_SAGE = "We too hail from our own realms.", LINE26_SAGE = "Menaced by horrible gods.", LINE27_TOADY = "That is until the sweet pall was laid upon us.", LINE28_SAGE = "And now, we three be free!", LINE29_HALFWIT = "Freeeeee!", LINE30_SAGE = "Ye too can be liberated!", LINE31_HALFWIT = "Wheeeee!", LINE32_SAGE = "Join us \'neath the protective pall", LINE33_SAGE = "ye shall never fear the dark again!", LINE34_TOADY = "Never build another fire!", LINE35_HALFWIT = "Or chop wood!", LINE36_TOADY = "Or sleep!", LINE37_SAGE = "Or eat!", LINE38_HALFWIT = "Or blink!", LINE39_TOADY = "Ye can still blink.", LINE40_HALFWIT = "Still blink!", LINE41_SAGE = "Ye will be one with the ever night!", LINE42_TOADY = "Forever in the sweet, dim embrace!", LINE43_SAGE = "Forever…", LINE44_SAGE = "in…", LINE45_HALFWIT = "Darkness.", },

(Dialogue for the void masques:)

SHADOWTHRALL_PARASITE_CHANT = { "Tenebrau", "Tenebrous", "salutations", "friends", "dark", "benevolent", "no fear", "Cursed light", "Sweet pall", "Be free", "liberate", "Ever night", "Dim embrace", "love", "Friends", "Joyous", "Welcome", "Resist not", "Surrender", "No pain", "No feel", "Forever we", "Many worlds", "One we", "In peace", "Protect ye", "Under the veil", },

(And lastly, 1 scrapbook entry.)

PUMPKINCARVER = "Can be used to carve specific shapes on Giant Pumpkins.", },

(And that's all I can find for now. btw, if anyone has been able to see how the void masques work in game, could you tell me? I could spawn them, but they never possessed anything so I might've been doing something wrong :/)

[axelsagewrites]

Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[karlachismylife]

OK 🆗 this isn't a ask I just wanted to say

We all love you and we are amazed and proud of you every day for doing what you do I love your work and believe you are as a person too and I know I probably won't ever meet you in irl but I want you to know that we are here for you as much as you are here for us <3 Love you pumpkin🎃 stay bright! Were her if you fall.

That's such a sweet thing to receive, love, thank you! I'm holding this message right to my heart and feel it calming down. I'm really not proud of myself in general, but as long as I can make people smile and want them to tell other people kind words, I think that's my mission successful.

Since you gave me this pretty pumpkin and we're approaching Halloween, here are some headcanons about task force 141 carving pumpkins.

CW: gn!reader, mild injury mentioned in Gaz's part.

Used the cutest dividers by @saradika-graphics

Soap is the Halloween kid. This might be his favourite holiday of the year (maybe second after Christmas), and the older he got, the more elaborate his celebration became. So you shouldn't have been surprised when one day he grabbed you and dragged along to a proper farmer's market. You just followed him, as he circled around stalls filled with rich harvest, wagging his metaphorical tail, and loaded a little trolley with pumpkins - you surely weren't naive enough to expect him to just choose one, but when he struggled to balance five on top of each other, you had to pat him on his shoulder and caefully suggest that maybe five was more than enough.

You can't really tell how he managed to convince you to help him carry two more, while all thee gaps too small for pumpkins in the trolley got filled with turnips.

At home, you took one look at his sparkling blue eyes, bright asa deep loch on a cool autumn morning, and started covering the whole kitchen in newspapers and oilcloths. And judjing by the whole arsenal of tools Soap whipped out, you made the right call - you only solidified in your decision to cover the floor and windowsills when he grabbed a powerdrill. "Tae scoop all the shite from th' inside," he explained, checking the circular blade and whatever that constructional whisk was.

"Johny, love, are you sure we can't empty them the normal way-"

"Aye we can, tha's nae fun tho, right, bonnie? C'mere, Ah'll show ye."

Yeah, you certainly didn't overprepare with the covers. Everything got covered in pumpkin guts, Johnny's palms were two shades oranger and you had to tug him down to get a few strings stuck in his mohawk,

"Mm, sweet. We can make soup from the scraps," you licked the juice from your thumb, smiling a little to broadly to pretend that going ham on pumpkins with powertools wasn't fun. Johnny, wiping sweat off his forehead and panting after he took on the biggest one - a real monster - solo, grinned like an idiot in return and kissed the sweet taste off your lips.

"Aye. Or cookies. Ah'll clean up, bonnie, and ye collect the seeds, aye? Gonnae fry them too."

After you cleaned the kitchen together from the main carniage, Soap pulled a chair out for you and finally reached for some more traditional tools for the job - although you had to cower a few times when he drilled starter holes to get some work space for the blade.

Johnny was extremely protective over his designs, hiding his work from you and turning his pumpkins away, only showing you the end results with the proudest chest puff ever. They were quite detailed and drastically different from one another, but all scowly, sharp pumpkin fangs and triangle eyes - very, very spooky. When you showed him yours, with round silly eyes, he looked at it for a few moments, tilting his head to one shoulder and then the other, and finally gave his verdict.

"Very cute. Wanntae drill 'im a mouth?"

You spent the whole evening carving all the pumpkins - and the turnips had to wait for a whole another weekend before you managed to go through the giant veggie pile together. There were enough cut scraps for soup and cookies both. Your drill had an orange hue that couldn't be washed off easily.

But the look on Johnny's face, when you lit up all the candles inside them and fixed some fake cobweb he pulled out along all the other decorations, was so worth it all.

As soon as you told Gaz that you wanted to carve pumpkins together, he planted a kiss on your knuckles and grabbed his cap off the shelf to go to the store. Sure, you would've loved to choose them together, but you trusted he would bring back some nice ones - which is why you were surprised to see him with two completely different pumpkins, a small pale one and a much bigger, bright orange.

"Don't look at them like that, angel, I have an idea," you must've looked really upset with the unfair pumpkin difference, because Kyle laughed softly and pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead and temples. "How about we make a pumpkinburster? You know, the little one clawing its way out from the big one, like in Alien? Pretty creepy, innit?"

That was damn clever, you couldn't lie. Together, you sat down with your respective pumpkins next to you, and sketched for a bit, coming to an agreement over one of the designs - Kyle promised he'll make sure the combined construction would hold together, and you chose the vibe and the way your little pumpkinburster would creep out of the deseased bigger gourd.

Kyle made sure to stock up on snacks and drinks, and put yet another movie from your horror marathon - every day since October 1st, several rounds on days off - on, preparing for your carving session. He took the big boy on himself, leaving you to work on the little guy with all the time for details you could ask for. You sat there, the tip of your tongue stuck between your teeth, going with a tiny scalpeel blade on the little scary teeth of your pumpkinburster, when suddenly the knife slipped on the juice slick covering the place you were diging into, and with a surprised gasp you cut the pad of your thumb.

"Ouch, love, wait, let me see, shush, stay still-" Kyle dropped his knife faster than you even fully realized what happened. Carefully, he grabbed your hand, wiping off pumpkin waste and quickly gathering blood, and inspected the cut with a concentrated look on his face. "Hm. I'm no medic, but I suppose your survival rates are quite high."

Earning a chuckle, he kissed your hurting thumb and then you, before getting up to fetch some better, sterile wipes and a bandaid - after some rummaging, he returned and presented you Halloween-themed bandaids.

"Saw them at the store the other day, couldn't resist, lovie. Wanna have a pumpkin one to remember what battle gave you that scar?" - "No, thank you, I'll take the one with skeletons."

Needless to say, Kyle hovered over you for the rest of the evening, making sure to watch you with all the sharp blades. Somehow, he managed to finish his "chestbursted" pumpkin too, and under your supervision he carefully combined the two, creating your gore galore.

"Do you think we can put a candle in there too?" You asked, leaning your head on his shoulder to admire your work. Chuckling in response, Gaz kissed the crown of your head and sighed dreamily.

"Of course, angel. Whatever you want."

Price took your suggestion to decorate your shared home with a carved pumpkin very seriously. You saw him going through the next few days, stopping at random times and staring into the void - and each time he responded to your concerned questions that he just got another idea for a nice pumpkin design.

Once he had enough of brainsstroming, he took you to go pumpkin shopping; grumbling all the way about how there aren't any "proper" pumpkins left, he, however, trusted your choice completely, agreeing with each and every one you pointed one to him. "Yes, love, that one would be perfect. Oh, you're right, this is even better, look at 'er, so bright... ya wanted another shape? Sure, darling, whatever ya say."

When you brought your prize home, though, everything completely changed: without as much as allowing you to cut the gourd open and take the insides out, John stole it and dragged to his woodwoking table, muttering something under his nose. You were baffled: never would you take him for a greedy pumpkin hoarder, but the truth was right there, all the creative control concentrated in his capable hands.

You waited for hours for him to come out so that you could give him a piece of your mind for cutting you off from the fun, but eventually all the outrage subsided, leaving you to worry about John - he didn't even show his nose when you called for lunch, and all you heard from his workshop area was constant tool buzzing and muffled curses.

Finally, you decided no pumpkin was worth starving himself, so you took a plate with his lunch and carefully entered the working area, immediately inhaling rich pumpkin smell.

"Love, I brought you something to eat... maybe take a little break?" Not wanting to startle him while he was working with a woodcarver, you stopped a few feet shy from his table and reached your neck to sneak a peek at his work.

The rough shape of the face his pumpkin had was terrifying. The ugliest mug you could imagine, something between a scowling smile and... and a Monster INC monster. Even half-done, it looked incredibly detailed, and judging by the amount of tools covered in orangy waste laid out, John used almost everything from his arsenal to carve it.

"Sorry, love, you said something?" Finally noticing you, he put the tool down and turned to you, blinking in confusion when you burst into laughter - how could you not, though, with his beard having te perfect orange shade, thoroughly moisturized with pumpkin juice too.

"I see you've had your lunch break already, but maybe eat something a bit more filling? The pumpkin's not gonna run away. Although it looks capable of anything. Did you have to make it that creepy?"

You leaned down to kiss John, his cheeks clearly blushing from your praise of his ablities to create the ugliest pumpkin critter possible - or from realization how he must look, since you took a napkin and tried wiping his beard clean.

"'Course, darling. How else are we going to scare all the kids away from eating our sweets?"

You were cozying up with Ghost with The Nightmare Before Christmas on - part of your attempts to convince him to wear a Jack Skellington costume - when you hummed at some of the movie background beauty and muttered: "Gotta make sure to go shopping before they buy all the nice pumpkins... wanna come with me? Choose yourself which one you want to do?"

The silence that followed was deafening enough for you to shake the mild sleepiness off and toss in Simon's lap, turning over like a sausage on a stick, tangling in the oversized hoodie (also Simon's, obviously) until you finally managed to push the hood that was obstricting your view off your face and stare at the man himself. Did you even ask out loud or did you even think the question?

"Which one I want to what?" Finally asked Simon, looking at you a little too seriously - his blond eyebrows furrowed as if you asked him a rather complicated mathematical equation, not if he wants to choose his own Halloween entertainment.

"Which one you want to carve? Like, make a Jack-o'-lantern? I thought we could just have each our own pumpkin, make them matching or something. You don't want to?" It was your turn to look confused, but you let your head fall back into his lap and looked at him with a smile. "Don't worry, I won't force you. I can just do a little one for myself."

"No." Simon finally managed a word out and found your thigh to squeeze - for moral support. He looked like he was processing the whole concept of sitting down as a family and carving Halloween decorations together, and you scanned his face, trying to guess what exactly he was thinking. "Let's do each one. But you choose 'em, lovie, I don't know shit 'bout 'em pumpkins."

You wondered if that would be his first time doing this at all or just in a really long time - so you picked up a nice, beginner-friendly, almost cartoon-perfect pumpkin for him and a slighly more lumpy for yourself. "It's got character!" defended you it when Simon looked at your yellowish monster and said it looked "more interbred than the royal family tree".

All that smugness vanished, though, once you sat him down at the kitchen table with a Halloween playlist in the background and dove head first into carving, your enthusiasm making up for the lack of technique.

Simon barely moved, constantly peeking at you and your stabbed interbred gourd. He just managed to start cutting out the circle cap in its head by the time you had already been scraping the inner walls with a spoon - you've never seen him less confident with a knife. Usually it was you who had to be extra attentive with all kinds of blades, while Simon cut anything and everything with a few efficient swipes.

Right now he looked no more capable than a toddler with a plastic knife.

"Need some help, baby?" You asked carefully, and after thirty seconds of inner turmoil, Simon responded with a defeated grunt. Chuckling, you got up, kissed the corner of his scarred lips and snuck behind him, intending to guide his hands Ghost style. Pottery might be more suited, but it still felt heartwarming to show him how to finish that top hole, leaving more or less curvy lines instead of the sharp corners he made with his cuts. "Ooh, look how bright the pulp is! Must be yummy."

You cut yourself a little piece of that bright orange sweetness - as a tax for helping him - and laughed, kissing Simon right after to share it. Then you gave him a sharpie and advised to draw his design on first. It might've been the sightly dimmed lighting in the kitchen, where you already put a few candles for the vibes, or the light reflecting off your bright pumpkins, but his ears definitely seemed quite glowy.

"Hey, no peeking! You have to make up your own face!" You covered your pumpkin from him, but Simon leaned to grumble into your ear, kissing and nibbling on it ticklishly, and seized the moment to grab your creation and turn it around.

There was a pause.

"The fock is tha', lovie." Looking at his dumbfounded face, you snorted and reached to peck him on his nose bump. You knew he'd looove seeing his skull mask recreated in a pumpkin with your less than finesse artistic additions.

"That's my Ghostunkin. You like him? You should, he's your twin!"

"Oi, c'mere ya little shit!"

[sister-hawk]

HEY LOOK AT WHAT I MADE!!! I whittled this elephant out of a block of basswood, and then painted it by hand, as a gift for my lovely girlfriend, @potsiefaerie 😘♥️💖🩵 When we were still getting to know each other, she mentioned that she collects white elephant figures with her mother (after they found one at a white elephant sale), and I was like, "Wait, I've done a bit of whittling before. Surely I could make one, right???" And then it became my mission all through the spring, summer, and fall. And after a bit of a mad dash to the end, I was finally able to give it to her the first time we met in person 🥰

While it was in no way easy, crafting this elephant was an absolute joy, and it really (re)awakened in me a love for the art of whittling. I had only done some very basic whittling before, close to a decade and a half ago. So with very little experience, none of which was recent, I really impressed myself with how well this thing turned out. And while I'm no stranger to painting, I've never done detail like this before. That is just natural talent babey. I have definitely found my calling in this craft.

It's roughly 2 and 3/4 inches tall, and probably around 4 and 1/2 inches long. I have absolutely no idea how many hours it took start-to-finish. But it was a lot lol.

Process:

The first step was to find reference images of elephants online, from various angles. I used those to create basic drawings of an elephant mid-stride from 5 different angles (left, right, top, front, and back). I printed and cut those out of paper to create a simple stencil to trace the shape onto the block of wood (that's what you see in the first image.

The second step was to actually cut the rough shape of it out of the wood with a coping saw. Then I divided the bottom (where the legs are) in half, and used the drawing as a guide for removing the halves of the legs that weren't needed (since it is not symmetrical in its stance.) That gave me an extremely rough and blocky elephant shape.

Next came the whittling, and that was by far the majority of the work. Months were spent slowly shaving away little bits of wood, occasionally glancing at my reference images, until finally the final shape was achieved. Then it was sanded down so as to smooth out the facets created by the carving process, and to refine the shape a little more.

I also must mention that I did drop it at one point on a cement porch and snap one of the legs off at the knee. But! A bit of wood glue and a rubber band fixed that fairly easily.

Then came the painting process. First I used a glaze to help seal the wood. Wood is a very absorbent material. I knew that, in order to ensure that this piece would last as long as possible, it needed to be sealed so that the wood did not absorb moisture from the air, which could eventually lead to cracking as it expanded and shrank. But paint itself also poses some risk in this way, and the wood really wants to soak it up. So the glaze ensured that that wouldn't happen.

Then I put down three coats of white paint (with another touch-up coat), and then sealed that with another coat of the glaze. This was to protect the white underneath when I started painting with the blue, so that if I messed it up, I would have the chance to remove the blue without totally stripping the white.

Next was the detail work with the blue paint. The designs were first drawn on using a 4h graphite in a mechanical pencil (4h is pretty hard, so it wouldn't leave much behind. That made it easier to erase mistakes and cover with the paint). I did reference a couple mandalas that I found online for the ones on the forehead and back, but all of it was painted by hand with an extremely tiny brush and an enormous amount of patience. It requires very steady hands.

And the final step was two part. First, another coat of glaze to protect the blue paint so that it would not get smeared (not after I did all that hard work!!!). And finally, four coats of varnish to completely seal everything off. My hope is this thing will still be sitting on someone's shelf at least a few generations from now, so I did everything I could to protect it as much as possible.

Materials and tools:

3x3x6in block of basswood, from some website idk lol.

Coping saw from Lowe's.

Whittling tools from Beaver Craft.

120, 220, and 400 grit sandpaper from Lowe's.

Glaze, paints, and varnish from Jo Sonja's.

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

Hi Pam!

Hope you're doing well, and thank you for your ‘on the path that led me to you’! 🫂This story is really engaging and interesting to follow, to see your input into canon events, that perfectly fits into the lore and fills a lot of "missing" scenes.

As you've expressed that you would love to have some fluff aside stories Post-canon... Oh well, you know, I'm absolutely weak against AruAni domestic fluff. feat Ambassadors Family.

And I was thinking, if I may ask you to have some small continuation of your other wonderful oneshot, "to save what we have"? Take all the creative freedom you have, just something related to this particular story and some aftermath.

Thank you in advance, take care and wish you all the best :3

Anna!! Thanks so much for the prompt- sorry it took a while to respond! I was very much looking forwarding to writing this, just needed to think of a scenario to put them in. I definitely tried to lean into the ‘domestic’ and ‘family’ aspects of it.

I am grateful you requested this, because I have been finding myself wanting to return to this story/era so much lately 🥰

The story is posted under the cut- I will get around to posting to AO3 soon hopefully.

Update- you can still read below but this is also now published on AO3 as Part 2 of ‘to save what we have’ —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/59811097

“Stop squirming- hold still…” Annie said, glancing up and eyeing Armin where his arm was extended towards her across the table. She pressed the sterile cotton ball with tweezers into the wound across her husband’s forearm. The bullet had carved a clear trail through the flesh right above his wrist- and despite his grumbling she was determined to be diligent about cleaning and redressing it every day.

Armin peered over at her from where he was reading the newspaper. She eyed him carefully, pressing the alcohol soaked cotton back into the deepest section of his wound. He hissed a little through his teeth.

“I know you’re making faces behind that newspaper.” She murmured, leaning closer to inspect her handiwork.

“No I’m not…” Armin muttered back, shaking the paper straight where it had started to droop at the top.

“Yes he is.” Pieck chimed in with her sing-song voice. She was mixing flour into dough at the kitchen counter next to the table. Reiner chuckled with laughter, the bacon in the pan he was flipping over sizzling.

Annie found she appreciated the smell of the cooking meat- she had always enjoyed sweet things for breakfast, which Pieck was obliging with her cinnamon roll recipe- but lately she had been craving salty and savory foods.

Maybe their baby would prefer those kinds of foods, she thought absently as she smiled to herself, passing her free hand over the swell of her stomach.

They had been in the safe house for a week- giving the authorities time to search for the extremists’ base of operations. They were being incredibly thorough at Armin’s insistence. The captain of the guard had ensured them that his men wouldn’t rest until the rot had been cut out.

She knew there was likely to be political fallout from this- the night of the gala was important for a lot of reasons and it represented the results of years of work for the ambassadors and other world leaders allied with their cause. For the event to be cut short so violently would have consequences and potentially undo some of their hard-won progress.

But she couldn’t be concerned about the world right now. She could only be concerned about her world. And right now that was Armin, the child growing inside her, and the four other ambassadors she had come to think of as allies, then friends, and more recently as family.

And all was relatively right with her world at the moment. Armin, despite his grimacing, would heal from his injury with nothing more than a scar. Her friends were resting and enjoying their private time together after so many weeks in the public eye.

And for herself… she was coming to terms with her pregnancy all over again now that everyone knew about it.

She wasn’t feeling as sick as she had a few weeks ago. And despite the more visible changes to her body that had alarmed her at first, two weeks ago was the first time she had felt her child move and it had been so quietly thrilling that it was all she could do not to reveal their secret right in the droll policy meeting they were sitting in.

Armin had spent that night petting and doting on her, transfixed by the growing bump and talking to their baby. She had been a little embarrassed of the extra attention at first, but to see the hopeful smile that lit up his eyes… it made her remember why she had agreed to do this with him in the first place.

She wanted to give him something special- something to make up for all of the things he had lost. Even if it was scary, even if the symptoms weren’t easy. She had taken so much from the world… lives and hopes and futures. But now she could create it herself just by loving him. It didn’t seem real. It didn’t seem possible. Her? After everything?

At the same time, though, thanks to Armin she had learned to accept all sorts of things she didn’t think she deserved.

She finished cleaning the wound and tying off the gauze, smoothing her thumb across the cotton as she delicately held his wrist. Armin placed the newspaper to the side, smiling knowingly at her with the upturned corner of his lips, before sliding his arm from her soft grip and rising out of the chair to come and stand behind her.

She had been bent over the table, and she hadn’t realized how slumped and poor her posture had been until she sat back, feeling Armin begin to massage her shoulders. She leaned her head back for him to press a kiss on her forehead, and she closed her eyes, smiling as she stretched her feet out in front of her beneath the table. She found herself resting her hands atop her protruding stomach. She hummed contentedly as her husband continued kneading the tense muscles around her neck.

She opened one eye at the sound of Reiner chuckling. He waved his tongs over at her, and she raised a brow at him. “Never thought I’d see the day when Annie was pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen.” She frowned a bit, and Armin scoffed good-naturedly behind her.

She closed her eyes again, pressing her hand on her lower belly where her child was moving and kicking. “I’m not the one frying bacon in a frilly apron.” She said back nonchalantly, and she heard Pieck’s snicker as she continued to whisk her batter.

“I’m not about to have grease splatter on my shirt…” He defended glumly, turning back towards the stove top.

Armin leaned in to give her another kiss on the cheek before he knelt down next to her chair, placing his hands delicately next to hers where their child was moving. “How is our squish this morning?”

Annie snorted a bit at his newest nickname for their child. ‘Squish’ had caught on last week, replacing ‘little bean’ in the rotation of terms of endearment. She grabbed his hand, pressing it on her side right below her ribs.

“Active.” She said with a sigh, but the contentment in her voice bled through anyway.

“That’s good… maybe they’ll decide it’s better to be active in the morning than at night.” He added, his eyes lighting up with that infectious enthusiasm.

“How would the baby know what time it is anyway?” Pieck wondered aloud.

Armin straightened a bit to look at her, and Annie could sense from his expression that he was mentally flipping through a catalogue of books he’d read about prenatal development. He read them aloud to her at night sometimes, while she curled into his chest and tried her best not to nod off.

“At a certain stage, they can hear voices and respond to light… I imagine the baby knows when it’s dark and quiet it may be nighttime. Not the concept of night, of course, that’s absurd but… the sensation of it maybe?” He posited and Annie bit her lip to keep from smiling at the inquisitive look on his face that she knew so well.

“Voices, huh? Think the baby might recognize my voice?” Reiner asks.

“That’s not an invitation to talk more.” Annie teased with a glare.

“When are you going to start acting kind and motherly?” Reiner teased back with a shake of his head.

“I could stand to be a lot nicer to you if you would hurry up with that bacon.” She said adjusting in the chair as she crossed her arms.

“Since when did you start wanting meat for breakfast?” Pieck said, starting to roll out the dough with a rolling pin. She turned to Annie with a little pout, and Annie rolled her eyes.

She glanced over at Armin, a teasing grin on her face. “It’s what our squish wants, I guess.”

Armin smiled back at her, pressing a quick kiss to her middle before standing. He crossed over to help Pieck roll the dough into spirals and coat them with cinnamon sugar.

Annie busied herself with packing up the first aid kit for a moment, before all four of their heads turned at the sound of the door opening from the back of the house and heavy footsteps coming towards them.

She furrowed her brows when Jean and Connie practically tripped over themselves entering the kitchen, piling armloads of shopping bags on the table.

“What’s all this? I thought you were just meeting with the dignitaries in our place this morning.” Armin asked, swiveling around to face them and fix them with his own puzzled expression.

“We did- but then we passed by a marketplace on our way back and-“ Jean started.

“And we found the greatest stuff for Baby Arlert!” Connie spurted out, diving into one of the bags and pulling out a tiny quilted blanket.

Armin laughed, rubbing at his temples with one hand as she shook his head at him. Connie only continued to dig out more items from the bag as Jean jostled it back and forth between them- arguing that he wasn’t giving anyone enough time to appreciate the purchases.

Annie bit her lip, reaching out with one hand to touch a small stuffed rabbit. It had silken ears and a frilly ribbon tied around it’s neck. It’s button eyes and nose glistened under the light. She rubbed one of it’s floppy ears between her fingers.

She wasn’t really paying attention to the teasing and good-natured griping around her, as Pieck and Reiner continued to pester Jean for his out of control shopping habits, and Jean continued to pester Connie for trying to take credit for the gifts.

Instead, she ran her fingertips across a tiny smocked sleeping frock that was laid out on the table, before holding it up by the sleeves.

It was so small. Her baby was going to be so small. She tried to imagine a minuscule little person, with blonde hair and blue eyes filling out the little garment.

She felt tears brimming in her eyes, and before she knew it she was sniffling. Had her father ever dressed her in something precious like this? Had she ever been treated like a soft small child who was wanted and loved?

But their baby would have that. Their baby would have Armin as a father. Their baby would have so many people who cared for them.

“Annie? Are you alright?” Jean’s voice cut through her thoughts, and she realized that a tear had slipped down onto her cheek.

She startled a bit, looking over at Armin’s concerned face. She bit her lip, blushing a bit as she smoothed the frock out carefully with her palms on the table in front of her. “It’s just… so small.” She said finally.

“Of course it is, it’s for you and Armin’s baby.” Connie joked and Jean elbowed him lightly.

She felt Armin tucking her hair behind her ear lightly, standing behind her as she continued to trace the delicate embroidery on the hem with her fingertip, blinking back tears and sniffling.

When she finally looked up at him, she found herself standing up to tuck herself into his arms as he pet soothing circles into her back. She laid her head on his shoulder and clutched his sweater in her hands as he laughed a little in his chest.

“Yes, Annie. Our baby will be small and soft and little.” He said, his voice low.

She sighed, slackening a bit. She knew there were a million other words said to her in that simple phrase. About how their baby would be grow up in a world where it was safe to be small and soft and little. About how they were all working to make the world a better place for them to grow up in- but no one was working harder than Armin himself.

She turned to face Jean and Connie again, Armin’s arm still wrapped around her shoulder, and gave them both a small appreciative smile.

“Small and soft and spoiled more like- how much did you spend on all of this, Jean?” Pieck teased, dusting her hands off on her skirt as she finished slipping the cinnamon rolls into the oven.

“It doesn’t matter how much I spent.” He said crossing his arms petulantly.

“Are you trying to win some sort of contest for the favorite uncle before the kid’s even born?” Reiner asked, placing the bacon he’d finished preparing on a plate as he turned off the burner.

“There’s no such contest- but if there were I wouldn’t be worried about competition from you or Connie.” Jean said.

Reiner harrumphed a bit to himself, but sidled on the other side of the table to place the plate of bacon down in front of Annie’s chair.

She let out a relieved sigh, sinking heavily back into the chair as Armin let out a laugh. She was already shoving a strip of bacon into her mouth before she even sat down. It smelled so good, after all, and she had waited so long to eat it.

Reiner crossed his arms at Jean, giving him a self-satisfied smirk. “See, I’m giving the baby what it really wants.”

“This is very sweet of you all, but please don’t turn this into some kind of twisted made up pecking order.” Armin said, his voice already sounding disappointed and tired, his hands hanging at his sides.

Annie smiled to herself as she continued helping herself to the food, each of her friends around her pulling out a chair to sit down and continuing to discuss the baby, and the gifts, and their petty grievances laced with love and familiarity.

She slipped her hand into Armin’s when he settled into the chair next to the left of hers. She traced her thumb lightly over the gauze again as she glanced down at his hand before looking up to his face. His eyes were wrinkled with laughter as Connie held up the frock underneath his chin and Pieck plopped a tiny bonnet on his head.

It warmed her heart to know how easy it was for him to smile. A week ago they had almost lost everything. She had lost sleep over it a couple nights, remembering... dreaming of a different outcome. But all she had to do was reach for him in her sleep, his hand finding the slope of her stomach as he pulled her towards his chest to hold her close. To hold them close.

All was well… in her world. And despite how hard it was to imagine being any happier than this, she knew it could only get better from here.

[pegasusdrawnchariots]

1, 2, 3, 19, 20, 21 and 30 please my beloved! 💌

u always rise to & above the occasion 💙💖💜 MWAH

~

1. what are 3 things you’d say shaped you into who you are?

Codes & puzzles & puzzle games. I'm counting them as one thing. I've never met a puzzle I didn't like!

Fiction! Reading generally but fiction specifically. My earliest memories involve me reading storybooks. Fiction has always been there for me as a source of joy, to sate my curiosity, to spark my wonder, or to simply escape into. & even when it's not physically available, all it takes is a little imagination to conjure it! Truly the best example of ephemeralisation — that is, the ability to do more & more with less & less until u can do everything with nothing

Delight! An almost virile lust for life! One of my friends once said of me that I have the most joie de vivre of anyone she knows <3 I've gone, as has everyone, through some truly depressing shit of a morning & caught myself smiling at clouds by the afternoon. & this quotation from Much Ado About Nothing:

There's little of the melancholy element in her, my lord: she is never sad but when she sleeps, and not ever sad then; for I have heard my daughter say, she hath often dreamed of unhappiness and waked herself with laughing. (II.1)

~

2. show us a picture of your handwriting

Have one of my favourite moments from Cyrano de Bergerac, cut down somewhat to fit on one page — the scene w the orange girl! 🍊🧡 (click to remove blur)

~

3. 3 films you could watch for the rest of your life and not get bored of

Indiana Jones!*!*!*! Frankly the whole series but if I HAVE to choose just one, I guess I'd go with Raiders of the Lost Ark bc Marion <3 I am down at all times to watch this film. I can quote far too much of it. I can pick it out from another room by 2 notes of anywhere in the soundtrack. I'm flirting w my future partner while they're injured by yelling "Well, god damn it, where doesn't it hurt?!" & when I inevitably shrug off this mortal coil, I want "everyone's sorry for something" carved into my headstone. When people ask me what my favourite film is, all 2:30 minutes of The Raiders March plays through my head at Mach 1 before I re-enter the physical world & answer with something vaguely intellectual & probably false bc I am, at my core, fuelled by the 2 irrefutable truths that period adventure films kick ass & that Harrison Ford is hot. That's it. That's the analysis.

Porco Rosso! The only film that's ever understood my thing w the sky & flying & the colour blue 💙🩵🤍 & weird-looking middle-aged men who think they're unworthy of love & refuse to cut themselves a break & spend the whole story engaging w the world via an interface

Knives Out~! Some of the tightest funnest filmmaking I've ever seen ❤️ Plus it's a detective story! With a working-class female protagonist! & Daniel Craig doing an accent! Win after win

~

19. favourite thing about the day

Not to be basic but like...the electromagnetic spectrum my beloved 😭💘 Seeing! Getting to see things! The way flowers look in the sunlight. Clouds reflected in a puddle so still it looks like u could fall right through it. Feeling the warmth of the Sun on my back & pulling my top tighter to me to feel it all the more. Rainbows. Golden hour. &, of course, the many faces of the sky :)

~

20. favourite things about the night

It's quiet & relaxing ^_^ No-one expects me to do stuff, so ironically that's when I do the most stuff I like. On rarer occasions, getting to use my telescope to catch celestial events! 🌕🔭 & also the fact that that's when ur online, ma mie!! 💜

~

21. are you a spiritual person?

Not especially! I'm far too scientific & in love w evidence & fact to be rlly spiritual. I do like hearing stories of supernatural phenomena, regardless of whether or not I believe. I find astrology fun too, more so as a tool for archetypal analysis than as a personality test or a form of divination. & I often make mention to feeling possessed or past lives or similar bc damn it sometimes that's just precisely how it feels, even if it's not the fact of the thing! But I usually just tell people I have the head of an artist & the heart of a scientist & leave it at that. I'm much more interested in observable phenomena! I save my "what if"s for spec fic ^_^

~

Thank u, Nina!*!*!*!*! Sorry this got so long, & if u managed to read to the end, congratulations!! Sharing my macaron with u~ {||}

[basu-shokikita]

kiss prompt plz: 22 buttman

pleas basu senpai <3<3<3<3 ik youre into twinks rn but pls consider a bald guy and a fat fuck orz

What if I wrote Pickleface instead-

Okay, fine, anon. But only cause I love you.

22. (Kiss) in a rush of adrenaline

"Run, Butters, run!" Cartman barely glanced from his shoulder.

"Oh, hamburgers!" Butters shouted in panic, narrowly avoiding the gunfire.

Shots from emerging from every possible direction, the duo bolted in the search for an escape. Rushing through street hallways and dead ends, they eventually hid behind a car and waited for the swarm of enraged criminals to run past them.

Cartman peaked from the driver seat window. "I think we made it."

"I'm gonna get grounded..." Butters covered his face in shame.

"Butters, you're 17. You can't get grounded anymore."

"I can't?"

"Pssht, no?" Cartman rolled his eyes. "Just kick their asses. You're old enough."

"But that will get me more-"

"Shh!" Cartman covered Butters' mouth with his hand. Nearby, there was a couple of voices talking.

"How much did they get away with?"

"About a million..."

"Oh, shit, the boss is gonna kill them!"

"Yeah, they're fucked!"

Butters barely registered the rest of the conversation, his body shutting down from fear. What had they done? They just about enraged the biggest mafia in town. There was no way they'd get out alive from this one.

They had really gone too far this time.

"Butters, Jesus, you're trembling." Cartman said once the guys were out of earshot.

"W-We're gonna die, Eric..." Butters said, looking down in despair.

"What? No, we're not." Cartman opened the money bag, as if to check the contents were still inside.

"Y-Yeah, they're going to kidnap us and torture our families-a-and then they're going to kill them in front of us...and then we're-"

"Butters, I have a plan, okay!" Cartman seemed almost bored with Butters' vivid fantasy.

"You do?"

"Yeah, so shut the fuck up and help me get this money out of here!" Cartman stood up then crouched again behind the car. "We gotta go while it's safe!"

"B-But it's not really-"

"Butters, I swear on my life I won't let anything happen to you, okay?" Cartman cut him off. "I already send an anonymous tip to the police, they should be here in about 5 minutes, so we need to go now. There's a tunnel I carved myself about a block away from here. It's gonna take us right to the school gym and we'll hide the money in the lockers until Monday. And, yeah, we'll climb over the school fences, I already put the stool aside from art class for it. It was to easy to convince Ms. Richard that I was going to do an art installation in my house this weekend." He snorted with disdain. "Stupid bitch."

Butters' eyes went wide, the admiration dawning on him like the sunset in the sky. "Eric..." He said, standing up as well. "You really did think of everything..."

His friend raised an eyebrow at him. "You think I was gonna rob a bunch of gang members without a strategy?"

"No, but..." Butters twiddled his thumbs smiling. "You're amazing..."

The fear inside him had suddenly turned into some kind of thrill, an elation that he couldn't explain. Whereas seconds before he was worried he might die, he was now he was excited, euphoric to be here.

With him.

Impulsively, Butters gave Cartman a peck. It had only been a millisecond though, when he realized what was doing. He pulled away with a stutter. "I..."

"What the hell, Butters?" Cartman looked positively dumbfounded.

"S-Sorry..." Butters wiped his mouth, feeling his face heat up regardless.

"Don't get gay on me." Cartman said, though he didn't sound really angry about it. There was a whistle in the distance. "That's our cue! Don't forget the money!" He said before bolting away.

With certain effort, Butters lifted the bag and started running behind him. A part of him wondered why he did that, why he suddenly felt like kissing Cartman.

But, well, maybe that was a worry for another day.

[direwombat]

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton, @aceghosts, and @g0dspeeed on this fine WIP wednesday (thank you my friends <3 <3 <3) behold, a bit of the werewolf au, ft jacob being an obsessed little freak and interacting with syb for the first time after turning her into a werewolf <3 all of this is super rough and what i was able to hammer out in like 30 minutes so everything is subject to change but hooray! words! it feels good to string them together again!

It’s simple enough to stage a run-in. 

The Deputy needs to leave her house eventually, and while he overheard the phone call where Eli kept offering to pick up her groceries for her while he lurked just beyond her property line at the outskirts of Falls End, she’d been adamant that she could run her own errands. "I'm a big girl, Eli, I can take care of myself," she'd bristled. The rejection of Huntsman’s offerings had been enough to make him salivate. 

He can’t provide for you. Not like I can. 

He’d been careful to follow from a distance. Didn’t want her sniffing him out and bolting before he could trap her in societal norms. A day will come where that won’t be necessary -- where she’ll embrace the wild parts of herself just as he has -- but for now she’s too human. 

She won’t want to cause a scene. 

When he pulls his truck into the lot of the butcher’s shop, her’s is the only other vehicle parked. It’ll just be the butcher and the two of them. 

Perfect. 

The bell jingles merrily as he pushes the door open, and he inhales deeply at the mixture of scents that immediately flood his senses. Blood, thick and sweet, still flowing a vibrant red as the freshly slaughtered carcasses in the back drip onto the floor. Freshly carved cuts are put on display behind glass in a refrigerated case, waiting to be wrapped. But even sweeter is her. 

He barely registers the stench of stale nicotine, the keen olfactory senses of his Wolf instead honing in on that warm, cinnamon and woodspice with a kick of smokiness that burns the back of his throat like he’s knocked back a shot of whiskey. That burning sharpens, intensifying as he steps through the door and he watches as her spine and shoulders go stiff, raising her hackles. 

She makes no move to look at him even when the butcher glances up and lifts a finger. “Be with you in a sec,” he says before disappearing into the back. 

Jacob sidles up beside her, standing a little closer than he would to a normal stranger. 

Her shoulders hunch and she casts him a wary side eye. Her basket carries a handful of small parcels wrapped with butcher's paper and twine. She gingerly swaps which arm is carrying it, moving it away from his reach. Adorably, her lip twitches and she flashes him a small snarl -- Mine. But just as quickly as it crosses her face, she composes herself. 

Pretending he didn’t notice, he rocks back on his heels and stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets. Utterly relaxed -- unthreatened -- he gives a small sniff and a nod in greeting. “Deputy.” 

“Mister Seed,” she responds curtly, and she folds her arms over her chest. She’s silent for a long moment, her jaw clenched. When he makes no move to continue the conversation, and when she realizes the butcher is taking longer than she’d like  in preparing her order, she speaks again. “You ever find that wolf?”

He grins, lips stretching to reveal more teeth than mirth. “Hm?”

She angles her head to look at him. “The wolf,” she scowls. “The one that killed your man. Weren’t no one there when I showed up that night. Thought y’all must’ve gone home.” The curl of her lip returns and suspicion glimmers in those forest green eyes.

“You insinuating something, Deputy?” he asks. 

“Just makin’ sure ain’t no one else got hurt.”

taglist:

@marivenah, @florbelles, @statichvm, @fourlittleseedlings, @wrathfulrook,

@harmonyowl, @ivymarquis, @carlosoliveiraa, @cassietrn, @confidentandgood,

@strafethesesinners, @trench-rot, @miyabilicious, @simplegenius042,

@inafieldofdaisies, @josephslittledeputy, @adelaidedrubman, @finding-comfort-in-rain, @voidika,

@strangefable, and anyone else wanting to share a wip they've been working on! (taglist opt in/out)

[janeacular]

Why Mother Gothel Should've Been Dark Blonde - an essay, a rant, an obsessive think piece (Part 3)

Part 3 - Deprogramming your biases, de-centering traditional beauty, symbolism and the message behind Rapunzel's happy ending. -------------------------- Keeping in mind the possibility of gothel using her dark blonde hair to reinforce her related-ness to rapunzel, while also putting emphasis on the brightness of it being beautiful and worthy of preservation just as much as it's magic. Both youth and blonde-ness rubbing off on gothel when she uses the healing incantation. Suddenly, her hair becomes a symbol of her connection to mother gothel and her time in the tower. And it makes it that much more obvious that cutting it is the only way to free her. Once she's freed, and her hair turns brown, and it's short, I could see how she may still have the remnants of conditioning in the back of her mind. She may have even felt ugly secretly. But then imagine how it all changes as she sees queen arianna come into view. and she's brunette.

Suddenly every insecurity over her own dark hair, every snide comment from gothel about brunette being unfavorable and ugly. It becomes not just about rapunzel, but about her beautiful mother. her father. Her boyfriend. Beauty stops becoming something to strive for and protect, and starts becoming the symbols of her loved ones.

Then the lock of brown hair in the back of her head retroactively becomes a piece of her true loving parents that stayed with her through everything. not something to hide and be ashamed of.

And now gothel can't villainize what rapunzel looks like naturally. or make her feel embarrassed for it. Traditional gothel-ideas of beauty don't matter anymore. Brunette is beautiful because her real parents are brunette. Short is beautiful because her boyfriend used his dying breath to cut it so that she can be free if nothing else.

Although myself and a lot of others already see this in the original movie, no blonde gothel required, I still think it would've made the point more obvious (Among other reasons the blonde could've been better). And I think that it's important that it is as obvious as humanly possible.

The long blonde hair-worship is riddled throughout society so heavily, that even fans of tangled feel brave enough to prioritize her hair over what is best for her. Reflect for just a moment, if you reacted to the hair cut scene the same way gothel did, you may have some unpacking to do.

And maybe instead of that message flying over some people's heads, blonde gothel would've been an extra nudge in that direction. With the bonus of not being antsemetic. Literally what more could you ask for!

Thank you for reading what I've carved into the walls of my enclosure btw, I know this was a lot and it got a lil less formal by the end. I got passionate ! I love this movie more than anything and I couldn't stop thinking about how perfect blonde gothel would've been

[alpaca-clouds]

For those of us who've not touched bg3 but are a fan of sexy vampires...Could you give a quick rundown on Astarion? Or is his lore too extensive?

Sure enough.

I will put this under a cut, though, for those who do not want to be spoiled. (Now I? I totally spoiled myself for the part of the plot I have not reached because with work my plaing has gotten slow.)

So, Astarion is one of your main companions in the game. The very, very short of the game set up (in terms non-DnD-players can understand): You got kidnapped by tentacle monsters who put a tadpole into your brain that is gonna turn you into a tentacle monster as well. Through circumstances you escape the tentacle monsters though before you can be turned and now try to get the tadpole out of your brain before you can grow said tentacles.

Now, your main companions all have the same issue. So does Astarion. You meet him soon after escaping the tentacle monsters. He appears to be an elf, some of your companions note he is a bit pale, but at least my very stupid bard was like: "He looks perfectly fine to me."

But of course you are gonna find him nibbling on your neck sooner or later. And from there on you find out a bit about him.

Now, this sad, sad vampire has been stabbed 200 years ago on the streets of Baldur's Gate, upon which he was found by a vampire. Cazador. Cazador was like: "You can die or you can allow me to turn you into a vampire." And Astarion wanted to live. So he allowed himself to be turned.

But Cazador only turned him into a vampire spawn. (Explanation: In DnD it is a weird mix. Vampires can turn you by just biting you, but until you drink their blood you are only vampire spawn, giving your vampire sire a lot of control over you.)

Cazador is the most horrible, shittiest asshole to ever have walked under this sky. He proceeded to take this poor vampire man who was now under his control and tortured him, raped him, prostituted him, abused him, and at times even used mind control to make Astarion torture himself. According to Astarion Cazador liked his screams so much.

Boy, I am looking forward to killing Cazador. (Or rather letting Astarion do the deed.)

Now, Astarion's character quest mostly involves the fact that Cazador carved something into his back. You will find out, that it is basically a spell that is meant to sacrifice Astarion and his vampire spawn siblings in a ritual so that Cazador can through that gain powers no other vampire has ever had before.

And boy, Astarion is so sad and traumatized and I just wanna hug him and tell him everything is gonna be alright, okay?

The game really managed to gut punch me, before I got spoiled.

See, if you do the romances, it is very dependend on the character how quick you get to a sexy time scene. In the case of Astarion the romance quest starts with him offering you sex. So me, horny as I am, was like: "Yay, let's fuck the sexy vampire." Only to then later learn of his tragic backstory and figure out that the reason he offers you sex that early is, that he never had anyone look out for him before and had thought it was conditional on him offering sex. And I was like: "Oh. Oh baby. Oh baby. I am sorry. Q-Q"

But he is really well written.

Not to spoil too much here, but for the first two acts he is like a very abrasive asshole. Because he is in full survival mode and he does not understand what is going on and all that. And all he ever knew was cruelty and violence. So he thinks that it is the only way to act. But if you are playing a good, heroic character he is slowly gonna come around to you. And he slowly is gonna start to believe that indeed you are being good because you are good and not because you have some greater goal. And then in Act 3 the sweetest thing happens, when you are nice and he suddenly... is also acting nice. It is just so sweet.

But yeah, I wanna hug him and hold him and kiss him and make everything alright. And I will probably spend a good while writing healing fics for him.

[frowningfox]

For the artist ask: 3, 13, 19

3. your favorite piece(s)?

THIS ONE. It's my all time favorite and a redraw of an older all time favorite. Looking at him and his small crooked toothy smile just makes me so happy I instantly smile. I'm pretty happy with the technical skills I pulled off with it too but the character and the emotion is really what makes this a happy piece for me.

And these two pieces! I am growing quite fond of my linework lately and I really feel that with both the Line version and the Color version I really brought out the different aspects and emotions I wanted to with each version. And I pushed myself and for the color version tried working with colors in the background/lighting that I don't often use.

13. talk about a wip you like!

REALLY OLD EXAMPLE. I have LONG since finished this piece but I loved the WIP more than the finished version so I kept it. I think I've even deleted the finished piece off my social medias, but I just love the in between stage so much that I am still holding onto it years later. uuuuh I could probably talk more about it but I'm gonna add a more recent WIP that is actually unfinished and talk a bit about it.

And yes. I still draw rough muscle diagrams as my first sketch layer.

Now this one I sketched out on my birthday, it's just a little stickynote sketch, so a thumbnail sketch, but I really really want to finish it I just havent had TIME. I have big plans for it, it's a companion piece to another drawing, the flip side of the monster, and I want to re-compose that one to more closely match this one, and THEN, stickers and prints of course but I want... I have two crappy side tables with square wooden plank tops. I want to figure out how to stencil the two pieces' line art onto them and woodburn them onto them... maybe paint idk. I've not painted in forever.

19. where do you find inspiration?

While first off as you can probably tell from the first WIP, muscle diagrams and greco-roman statues.

But in many places, mostly in traditional 3d forms of art or have an element of 3d in their process. My biggest inspirations are statuary and carousels, and for 2d, woodblock print art from old fairy tale books!

I also take quite a bit of inspiration from various religions' artwork. Painted/carved Reliefs, stained glass, etc.

Lots of artwork that's meant to capture a moment and freeze it under a layer of heavy iconography and symbolism. A lot of times when I draw my characters, it's on purpose not exactly how they look, but using in-lore stylizations to convey certain things and to keep their appearance somewhat the same despite some of the important things on their person constantly changing over the course of their story (for example the small braids on Asim/Yunuen typically being portrayed as pinned up in two loops with a set amount of beads and rings. it's an iconographic choice denoting their connection to the House of Fate, as well as maintaining that they cherish the tradition of the braid despite not having one anymore after having it forceably cut off/just recently starting one and only having one or two beads on it)

That big aside aside, I also find so much inspiration from so many artists I stumble across on tumblr! Usually just tiny little things, like how they draw certain hair types, or how they do certain cloth folds.

And uh. Like two years ago I binge watched HunterxHunter and it permanently changed how I approach drawing lips and hands.