#i really struggle with doing body head canons but i'm TRYING to get better at it

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Seventeen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 4,562

Themes; isekai, eventual smut, slowburn, canon divergence

Rating; 18+ for swearing and eventual mature themes

Notes; Only update for this week! I decided that it's better to drop my updates down from multiple to just one per week– just until I get a few buffer chapters in-between where my chapters are here and what I'm currently writing!

Also Tumblr on mobile seems to really hate anything over 4k so I'm not sure what to do when it comes to posting longer chapters– but if I do, I probably won't be able to add itallics and bold, but I'm sure no one would mind if I didn't go through and add those little details.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter! It's yet another memory one that will span over two chapters (including this one).

Prev || Next

Masterlist

“Y/n…Sweetie, wake up.” You hear a voice and a gentle hand shakes your shoulder. Your eyes slowly opened and your cheeks felt damp. Once your eyes are fully open, you wipe your face and rest a hand on your chest. It tightly grips the front of your dress as you struggle to breathe. Your gaze goes to Sylus with wide eyes and you look around, confused to see the interior of a car and not the beautiful lake you were just at. 

The only reminder of your dream laid In your hand…A gem, devoid of colour as if its power had been drained, was in your palm. Was this the aether core Xavier found? No…no way that would've followed you back.

“Where..?” You were still disoriented, trying to keep a grip on which reality was your own. Your hands were trembling.

“We’re back at the house, sweetie. Or did you forget where we were going?” Sylus's voice sounds soft. It sounds too kind, much sweeter than his usual tone with you. Were you somehow in a different kind of dream now? 

“No— I...” You hold your head in your shaking hands. “I had a dream...It..” You want to punch yourself in the chest– anything to try and fix the disorder nestled deep in your heart. 

“I know, you started crying so suddenly. I was almost scared.” Sylus seems rather calm as he speaks, not waiting for you to elaborate as he opens the car door, “I told you it would be happening more often. You just need to be prepared for it.” His hand reaches out for you as the cool breeze nips at your skin. 

“But I felt– Months passed, Sylus. Seasons changed and it’s only been an hour.” You stammer as you try to get out of the car, but your knees almost give out underneath you. 

Sylus lets out a sigh and picks you up bridal style. “Was it scary?’ He asks, softly, as he carries you inside. “No…just really sad,” You reply, resting your head on his chest, “And I feel even more tired than before…I felt like I haven’t slept at all…”

“It’s just the first of many,” He muses, not bothering to ask what it was about or explain how he knew so much as he enters your room, and lays you down on your bed. “I’m sorry there’s not much I can do for you,” He speaks in a low register as he takes your hair down from its up-do, running his fingers through the strands, before he gently removes your jewelry. “But I can sit right next to the bed if you want me to. You know I don’t sleep around this time.” 

You press your lips together in a thin line, before quickly nodding as you grab his hand, “Please?” 

Sylus doesn’t give you a response, but he keeps a tight hold on your hand while you slowly fall back asleep…

The next memory is more involved than the last. You’re not sure who this one is about just yet, but judging by the ghastly sight of bloated corpses and water steadily filling up a ship as a storm raged on, you can only assume it’s Rafayel’s.

From what you could see, it was a dark and stormy night on the high seas. Some of the ship’s crew were talking about a sacrifice that had gone missing and to let down the sails as the stormy sea was too strong from their ship. The large boat was rocking back and forth from the force of the waves, and you almost felt seasick.

You notice waterlogged bodies floating past you as you were hidden behind a wooden storage box. Then, suddenly, your arms are seized in a tight grip and you’re dragged to the edge of the deck. Your eyes widening as the sight of the dark, unforgiven see was all you could see below. “Now throw her overboard!”

What? You were the sacrifice!?

Amidst your surprise, you begin to hear a faint melody, a song sounding as if the sea itself were singing to you. Calling out to you, almost, and like an invisible hand, the melody calms down the raging whirls of the ocean and the winds die down.

“Fools…Any further and a storm would be the last thing on your minds.”

Rafayel?

Though you can’t ponder on your thoughts for too much longer as you’re tossed overboard. Your limbs spread out in a panic as you try to slow your descent into the depths. You can hear the emissaries cheering as you, their sacrifice who was raised for years just for this very reason, finally fulfilled your purpose.

A sinking sense of fear overwhelms your body and the salty ocean water drowns out your pleas and cries for help. Briny water engulfs your body and your eyes burn as you try to keep them open from under the crashing waves. You could’ve tried to hold your breath, but it was already too late. 

Your panic had caused you to take in gulps of water and you felt your vision fading. You could feel yourself slowly…and painfully suffocating. Before you lost consciousness, however, you felt something warm envelop you.

Whenever you resurfaced, you greedily gasped for air, coughing out salty water, and felt the cool rain hit your face. Then, you turn toward your savior but your pleasantries die on your lips as you meet his beautiful, otherworldly eyes. 

Those familiar, charming bluish-pink eyes.

“Were you abandoned?” He asks, holding an ornate flute as he seemingly stands on top of the now calm waves. The ethereal melody you heard earlier had since disappeared as he was no longer playing his flute.

“Save me…please.” Is all you can croak out and the purple haired man chuckles. He sits down on a piece of driftwood. 

Under the moonlit night sky, he looks at you, the scales on his neck emitting a faint glow. He’s lemurian?

“Did you ask for my assistance?” He asks, raising a brow as he rests his arm across his leg. Then, you take a moment to look at him, really look at him. 

He had paint-like markings on his face under his right eye, the paint marks were also along his shoulders and chest. Were they tribal markings? He was wearing gold jewelry, the bangles wrapped tightly around his biceps and wrists. A sheer, blue sash across his right shoulder seemed to be the only form of top he had on and his pants were more of a white and gold tunic.

He brings you back to the situation at hand by holding his hand out to you. That’s when you realize his nails were also painted black.

You reach out toward him but, when your hands touch, flames burst forth from his fingers. You let out a squeak of surprise and jerk your hand back, but he starts laughing, amused at his little joke. You, in turn, puff your cheeks out and grab his hand tightly.

Even if this was a memory from the past, it seems Rafayel still acts just the same. It almost makes you want to stay in this dream forever, having missed the man after not seeing him for some time.

The man makes a noise in the back of his throat as you squeeze his hand, “Release me.” The scales on his neck are raised ever so slightly like a cat’s bristling fur. “I said release me!” 

Another thought crosses your mind, an even older memory that a lemurian’s kiss can allow one to breathe underwater. This gives you an idea since you’re trapped in the ocean with no other way to survive, you decide to take your chances.

You suddenly reach forward to cup your hands on either side of his face, catching the man off guard, and kiss him. Your lips smash against his in a clumsy kiss, your teeth clinking together in your desperation for survival. 

The lemurian lets out a small gasp of surprise as you plead with him again to save you. Your vision becomes more blurry by the second, but you desperately try to hold his gaze.

After a long silence passes, his voice rings in your ears– low…soft…almost like he’s casting a spell to enthrall someone, “I will grant you deliverance and in exchange, offer yourself, your everything to me. Become my follower mortal.”

After this exchange, you assume you passed out. You hear children whispering about whether you’re alive or not. As the conversation turns toward the children wanting to use your possible dead body for dissections, you open your eyes. 

The first thing you notice is that you’re in a rather luxurious room. It’s completely covered in the colour blue. From the drapes across the windows to the bedsheets, to the walls. 

The children are, understandably, surprised that you woke up in the middle of their conversation. “Where am I?” You ask, slowly sitting up, “Am I below the waves?” You realize you’re probably asking too many questions and bring your hand up to rub your temples. “Keep your distance– she bites.”

You knew that sassy demeanor like the back of your hand. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed that he had to scare those poor children with nonsense. 

Rafayel stood by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and, as you took a moment to take him in during the daytime, you realized he was quite attractive. He was always attractive, but in his lemurian garb, he was all the more so.

Though, you do notice that his mouth is swollen and there seems to be a wound on his lips.

Oh, did you…

Once he meets your gaze, he glares at you. “Uhm...where am I?” You finally ask after a few moments of silence.

“A single glance would reveal that you’re in Lemuria. Treat her wounds and give her clean clothes. I’ll inform Elder Amund that we’ve found my devout follower.” He says and you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. “Uhm, you’re my savior right? I should express my gratitude—”

Though, he leaves before you can even finish your sentence. 

Maybe…You should go back to the real world after all. You miss Rafayel. 

A young girl with beautifully braided blue hair pops up from her hiding spot and excitedly sits on the edge of the bed, “Worry not! When Rafayel brought you back, it seemed you’d been vomiting bubbles with the crabs for a fortnight.”

Then she continued, “My name is Algie and he’s Konche. You’re the first live human we’ve met! Well...There are ones who swam along the currents, but none of them could talk like you.” 

The blue haired boy next to her scolds her, “You’re scaring her, sister. Look, her hands are shaking like a shrimp seeing a whale for the first time!” 

“My apologies, I didn’t mean it!” Algie quickly clasps her hands together apologetically. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it but…May I ask why you brought me here?” You ask, head slightly tilted to the side.

“You’ll know when you visit the temple.” Algie says, “It’s a very, veerrry long tale. I’ll tell you on the way!” 

She said that in the Deep Sea lies the forgotten kingdom of Lemuria and that the God of the Sea lives there. He protects whatever the briny sea touches and his followers include not just denizens of the ocean, but also humans. His most devout followers must gift him a heart so he has the strength to protect Lemuria and becomes the god recognized by the entire ocean.

Hmm…Rafayel did say ‘we found my devout follower’. Does that mean he wants your heart? And not in the romantic way??

It’s said that the Sea God of this generation was born in flames as dusk turned to dawn and only he can use fire.

Huh, Rafayel did use fire earlier…

In the Tome of the Sea god, it’s stated that in Whalefall City’s temple lies a great flame that has burned for thousands of years and that if this fire were to ever go out, then Lemuria shall fall into a deep slumber for centuries.

So…to keep the flame alive, the Sea God requires a certain human follower. It cannot be a lemurian, it must be a human because they are some of the most selfish, greediest creatures so when they offer their hearts, love, or even their lives, it’s considered the most precious form of worship. This Tome also confirms that Rafayel will be the last God of the Sea.

Once in the temple with Rafayel, you gaze upon the fire in the middle of the room. It almost resembles a sun about to go out.

“She’s most suited to be the one.” You hear Rafayel say and you really hope he doesn’t mean to toss you into the fire as a sacrifice. “Her?” You hear an older voice from across the room.

A man in a robe, holding a staff, questions, “She is the human your Quintessence has decided on?”

“‘Twas more of fate’s whimsy. I wandered about on the earth and became her cushion when she fell.” Rafayel speaks as if you were a stray animal that he had brought home out of the kindness of his heart. 

“For now, I shall forget that your Quintessence snuck out and burned the guard’s hair. I must ask again, is she truly to be the human your Quintessence is bound to?” 

“As long as the Sea God’s ceremony is assured, I’ll make her my follower.” Is all Rafayel says in response before he goes back to being the sassy Rafayel you truly know, “However, we should remove all of her teeth and nails. I worry she’d bite and scratch us if given the opportunity.”

“I-I don’t think that’s a good idea,” You finally manage to get a sentence out. Amund sighs, “Once a lemurian is bound to someone, it’s impossible to go against their wishes. She will have the power to command your Quintessence. When the two of you barely know each other, is that something worth giving?”

The light flickers on Rafayel’s face and he lowers his head to ruminate about his answer. Then, the Elder leaves so you and Rafayel are alone.

“So…if you’ve yet to decide, can I be set free? I promise I won’t speak of this to anyone.” Though you try your luck, Rafayel continues to stand there. “The day has dragged on long enough. I’m tired.” He sighs, finding a comfortable spot on the floor to sit down. 

“What’re you doing?” You question, still standing up. “Sleeping.” He answers simply. “Why??” You are appalled but Rafayel continues, “Wake me before nightfall.”

 “You—” 

He ignores you, leaning his back against a marble pillar as he closes his eyes. The temple is heavily guarded, so all you can do is sit in a corner and ponder how you were going to escape. Though your thoughts are regularly interrupted by Rafayel’s breathing and after an hour of it, you’re fed up by it. “Rafayel! Ra-fay-el!” You try to wake him up, hands on your hips. Though, he doesn’t react. 

A small blue fish suddenly appears and begins swimming around his shoulders.

“Oh– where did you come from? You’re so cute...” You muse, reaching a finger out to poke the fish with a small smile on your lips. “Do you know the way out, Oh little fish?” The fish swims in a circle and settles on your finger as you softly giggle at it. “Do you understand me?” You softly ask the fish, completely endeared with it, “Could you show me a way out?” 

Flicking its translucent tail, the fish swims to the stained-glass window behind the alcove...

“Half a day has disappeared like sea foam,” You sigh, walking through the beautiful hallway of the temple, “Why have we returned to these crossroads?” A pout dances across your lips, “Do you lack a sense of direction or do all fish have terrible memory?” 

Twirling its tail, the fish suddenly swims into a crowd and leaves you behind. “Where–” You sigh, shaking your head, “I can’t believe I’m trying to talk to a fish.” The fish finally leads you to a coral reef and goes into a small hole in the city’s walls.

“Do I have to swim through that?” You question and the fish spits bubbles at you, almost as if trying to communicate. “I’m coming. I'm coming.” You sigh, swimming through the narrow passageway until you’re on a beach alcove.

You dust the sand off of your knees in triumph. “I’ve definitely got to think of a way to express my gratitude to the fishies…I could possibly feed them during the Sea God’s ceremony,” You murmur to yourself.

“Was it fun to explore Lemuria?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of Rafayel’s voice. “Rafayel!?”

“There is no need to shout my name.” He says behind a silk curtain, before he steps out to face you. 

He lifts his finger and the little fish swims around it, then transforms into a blue scale that lands in his palm. The fish was his own creation!? 

“You planned this?” You groan. “‘Twas a test for you. Elder Amund was right. Human promises are nothing but meaningless words.” “Huh– When did I make a vow to you??” You were a bit exasperated.

“I told you to wake me before nightfall, didn’t I?” Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest and then yawns, seemingly not upset in the slightest. “Besides, when I saved you from the ocean’s clutches, we made an oath. Did you forget?”

“That��counted? Look, you’re the sea god, respectful and awe-inspiring. Can’t you consider my rescue an act of kindness and let me go?” You rub the back of your neck as you look away from the man.

“I am not a God who answers every whim. The ceremony is to take place in a month and, as you’re aware, ceremonies always need–” He rests his chin in his hand as he narrows his eyes, filling you with a sense of dread.

“...Followers right? There are plenty on land. You know? The ones who wear robes and pray to you every day. They’re more devout than me.” You quickly cut him off, not wanting to hear him say the word ‘sacrifices’.

“Alright…Then, return to me your life.” He says, one hand on his hip. His other hand reaches out toward you as if grabbing an invisible rope that’s tied tightly around your neck. Though you're unsure of what he’s doing, suddenly you can’t breathe. 

You place a hand over your chest, doubling over for a moment as you reach toward your throat and cough. Water enters your nose and throat. Did he…take away your ability to breathe underwater? “Wait, wait!” You panic, air bubbles escaping your mouth as you try to speak, “I’ll do anything you ask!” 

Suddenly, a grin spreads across Rafayel’s lips and he loosens his hold. You find yourself able to breathe again. “‘Tis not worship I desire. From the very depths of your soul, I seek only the purest devotion.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“The tides ebb and flow and with every setting sun is a moon rising. ‘Till time’s end, I should occupy your every thought. You must believe in me alone.” Rafayel says as he walks closer to you and your eyes widen a bit.

Okay, that’s hot—

“You mean I…” You trail off and the tips of your ear turn a pretty shade of pink. “Think of it from another perspective,” He pokes your chest, specifically where your heart lies. He acts as if he’s stating a truth, “Thou must find a means by which thy heart becomes smitten with me.”

‘Find someone who will kiss you, even if you do not give them the world. Love a soul that is like your own, that which compliments you. Love and death are the most important things in life. Death is a matter of time, so love with all your heart can muster.’

- Lemuria: Tome of the Sea God, Chapter 3  

The two of you ended up sneaking to the top of the temple’s spire to watch the sunset. After a few days, you had grown used to the Lemurian’s snarky demeanor. You had also learned a bit more about him, like how he doesn’t like people touching him but is fine with you gently holding his hand.

You recall Amund saying that once the Sea God is bound to a person, they’ll do anything they command so as Rafayel sits down in the shade to nap, you decide to bother him for a bit. His eyes are closed with his arms crossed over his chest, so you reach your hand out to grab his.

“Make some flames for me,” You ask. Rafayel lifts his fingers up before curling them back around yours, but doesn’t say a word.

“Hmm...I didn’t work at all,” You murmur with a pout. “Don’t waste your time.” He lazily opens his eyes. “One should practice silence when watching the sunset.” He drops your hand, resting his arm on his propped up knee. 

“Do you want to see the real sun, Rafayel?”

“I do not.” He simply says and the blue fish from earlier reappears. “You wanted to sneak onto the beach the day we met,” You say as the fish swirls around his palm.

“Your tongue barely moved when we first met. Back then you were rather…” He trails off, bringing his hand up to his mouth to tap his lips.

A crimson red blush appears on his ear tips before spreading across his cheeks. His eyes widen as he catches your gaze and he quickly looks away.

“This side of you is much more to my liking.” He finally finishes his sentence. 

You tap his shoulder, “Hey, so on the surface we have a Sea God ceremony too. We play wonderful songs on lyres and...”

“Were the surface world as lovely as you claimed, you’d be elsewhere,” He glances toward you before looking back up at the light in the distance. 

“There are evil people on the surface! Once they learnt you were Lemurian, your tears that turn into pearls would be harvested day after day endlessly.” You try to spook him, though deep down you knew there would actually be humans as evil as that. Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest as he shakes his head, “If you were to persuade me to bring you to the beach, you’ll run away.” 

Though after a few moments of silence, Rafayel leans back against the marble column behind him. “Is the surface world’s sunset different from the one in the ocean?”

“Honestly...my memory of it is hazy…” You trail off as he closes his eyes and you take your chance to sit closer to him.  Your head slowly drifts down to rest against the column as well– close to him but not touching him since you recall him saying he doesn’t like to be touched.

“You take me to see the sun and I’ll take you to see the festival...What do you think?” You ask as you look up at him, drinking every detail of his face. Though, as silence fills the room, you realize Rafayel had most likely fallen asleep. The tranquil nature of the situation also somehow makes you sleepy as well and your head leans against his shoulder, almost close enough to touch his head. 

Though, you’re hesitant to fully lean against his shoulder. Suddenly you feel a hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer and hear Rafayel tiredly go, “Mmhm.” almost as if saying you’re okay to lean on him. You lift your gaze to look up at his face, worried he was awake, but all you see is his closed eyes. His face way too close to yours, so you instead close your eyes and rest your head on his chest as you join him in sleep…

After a few days, Rafayel decides to go to the beach with you to watch his own celebration first hand. You tell him of how the emissaries on land had adopted you and raised you as a follower of the sea god, only to tell you that you were a sacrifice years later.

You talk of how you wouldn’t have been able to escape because of the island’s size. It was nice to be able to actually talk with someone about your situation for once.

Then, you both enter the festival with driftwood masks that Rafayel made and you overhear a storyteller.

“Unable to break his vow with the girl and his own burning passion, the God of the Sea left the ocean and lived happily ever after with his beloved...”

The children talk amongst themselves after the puppet show. “But Lemuria is centered around bonds. Without it, the Sea God won’t remember or obey her!” A little girl says, clearly upset over the ending.

“What are you talking about? The God of the Sea will find his beloved and live happily ever after,” The little boy next to her sighs, not understanding her. 

The young girl lets out a huff of annoyance before tugging at your sleeve as she looks up at you, “What do you think, Miss? Will the Sea God be with her because he loves her or because of their vow?” “Uh...” You glance over at Rafayel before clearing your throat, “All of those legends of Lemuria are just made-up nonsense…”

Though, you seem to have made the wrong choice as the children start crying. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t...” You panic, not used to being around children enough to deal with the situation.

“What about you, Sir? Does Lemuria exist? Would the Sea God gift his heart to a human?” The girl quickly turns to Rafayel for an answer.

The man in question, the Sea God himself, rests his chin on his hand before nodding, “He would. Lemuria is my homeland, so that is how I know.”

Should...he be saying that? You tried to cover his mouth with your hands, but he pushed you away.

“What are Lemurians like?” She asked, excitedly.

“Hmm…Their tears turn into glimmering pearls, and their voices bring dreams of wonder. Their blood can make one live forever or even resurrect the dead.” You really don’t think Rafayel should be saying this but the girl quickly sighs, “I already knew that.”

“Lemurians don’t fall in love with people they’re bound to. ‘Tis a human fantasy.” Rafayel says with a shrug and you can’t help but frown.

“What else?” The little girl jumps up and down.

“Are you that curious?” Rafayel teases with a smile ghosting across his lips. It seems like the Sea God adores children– how cute.

Though, you could only faintly hear the conversation from afar, having walked away after Rafayel said Lemurians don’t fall in love with the humans they’re bound to.

Hmph, you’d just drink your sorrows away with some pomegranate wine.

You take a sip of the wine, being distracted by all of the lights and stalls like an excited little puppy.

Suddenly, the girl walks up to you and tugs on your sleeve again. “Miss! Your friend said that if you don’t return soon, he won’t keep waiting.”

Also, woah! I did not expect my bad weather drabbles to blow up like they did! Does that mean yall want to see more drabbles in the future?

If yall have any ideas for some, I'd love to, at least, try them out! Because I really didn't expect so many people to actually like it. I kept checking my Tumblr and being like "woah 35 notifs???" And then I'd check again and "WAIT, there's 25 more???" So, I'd love to keep doing them. They'd be good to post in-between my ToF schedule!

Hope yall enjoyed this chapter! I'm hoping it still makes sense that the reader can't fully control their body during these memories...I'm not really sure how to convey that tbh.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

[mama-emeritus-i]

Hello! First time reader AND caller here, but could I possibly request some Primo headcannons? Smut appreciated, thank you! 🩷🌺

Hi! I’m so sorry, I haven’t had any motivation or time recently. 2 jobs and school has been taking all my time haha. But yes of course!

Primo HC Fluff and Smut

Fluff

I imagine y'all met when Primo was still in his prime(o), either right before he became Papa, or during his time as Papa.

Much like the platonic Primo head canons, things were taken SLOW. It started out as small "hello's" between sermons, and soon those increased to small talk and conversations.

Nihil teased him about how close y'all were getting, and was also pushing him to settle down and get ready for an heir.

In the relationship, y'all took your time. It was always soft touches, kind words, and late night conversations.

On your first date, he picked you up from your room with a small bouquet of the best flowers from his garden.

He knows all the chivalry rules, in your entire relationship, you have never touched a doorknob, he always walks you to your room, pulls out your chairs, and walks on the outside of the sidewalk.

He genuinely cares about you, and you will feel so incredibly loved when you're with him. He keeps a journal with small bits of information (I.e. your favorite color, favorite foods)

During mass, meetings, and dinners you are always within arms reach of him. While he HATES PDA, he's very insistent on holding hands anytime you're out.

He's not a jealous person, he knows you are his and that is that. Other people can look but no one can have what he has.

Smut below the cut

Smut

It took y'all a WHILE before you two started getting intimate. Not because he was celibate, but he was so concerned about scaring you off.

He was so gentle with you and I think still struggles with being rough, even if you asked.

Definitely sat you down and you both had a long discussion on boundaries and what you wanted to explore.

This man could be between your thighs for hours, like I'm not kidding. He wants you sat on his face til you physically can't cum anymore and his face is covered in you. (we've all seen that nose. Don't pretend like you haven't thought of it)

I don't think Primo is particularly kinky, he will do it if you ask, but he's perfectly happy just not.

His one major kink that he has always wanted to try, is some sacrilegious chapel sex, possibly in the confession booth...definitely in the confession booth.

LET ME EXPLAIN. Primo also really likes to see you get yourself off, so the idea of him on one side of the booth, and you on the other side hearing each other. This would make him feral, the idea of being able to hear you, but not being able to touch you. Only being able to hear you get off due to his words.

While he Is not per se loud, he does talk you through it, especially later on once you're used to each other.

THIS MAN KNOWS YOUR BODY BETTER THEN YOU DO AND I WILL STAND BY THAT

He didn't really get aftercare until you explained it to him and showed him what to do. Once he got it though, he quickly became the king of aftercare, tending to anything you need, making sure you have water and a snack. He also will draw you a shower or bath depending on just how long y'all went.

[yoinkschief]

What’s your general HCs for the fellas ? (Identity, race, sexuality etc)

Whooaagh, that's gonna be a long list, I have a ton of like small headcanons for them that mean like absolutely nothing, but I'll try to keep it to a simple list

Just quickly though:

I HC them all to be generally around 27/28 and in their late 30's/early 40's during WTFuture/in the future,, there was no real way to put that in a good list with them lol

And they're all best friends - just cause they're a group of people doesn't mean they only get to have one bestie yk, they're all super close

Also Ellsworld is canon alongside Eddsworld, they co-exist with each other

Tom - Mixed Race (Black/Irish from his mom, White/American-Hawaiian from his father - Trans Masc-Nonbinary (AMAB) He/They/(sometimes)It (It/Its depends on who it is) - Bisexual (massive masculine lean) (worst taste in men EVER) - Styles his hair to look like his fathers (otherwise his hair is usually textured around the 3's,,, like 3A/3B) - Very pear shaped like his father, and hairy too lol, the alcohol certainly doesn't help with that - Wears reading glasses (later this turns into him genuinely needing a prescription,, another thing he gets from his father - he looks very similar to his mother in terms of facial features and skin tone, but has a lot of his father's aspects) - Fear of eye contact (has gotten a lot better about it now that he's an adult, but still struggles with it with people he does not like/does not know) - Autistic - 5'5" (the shortest of the ensemble) - Works at a diner while part-timing music independently - "Monster" form is man made and extremely painful to turn into (there is no way he could control it,,, in some iterations of my headcanons like in different stories there are ways that he can have like a pact with it,,, like in my Mattsworld AU (WHICH I NEED TO POST ABOUT AUGH) he's "controlled" it a bit by making a deal with it,,, of what I haven't quite figured out yet oof) - Has quite a few tattoos on him,,, (Polynesian shark teeth on his left upper arm, cyan colored harpoon tattoos on his left side, a pinup mermaid girl on his right side, and the Nordic rune for "Wolf" on his right outer thigh) - Also he inherited his anger issues from his father as well, forgot to add that earlier with the list of things he's inherited from his old man lol - Momma's boy (/affectionately, not like he can't do anything without his mom, moreso like he really loves her a lot and obviously they're very close since they both lost Tom's father that day so for a while they were all the other had to remember him by) - Tamara is his cousin from his mother's side of the family - His first friend was Edd - His mother died when he was in highschool - father when he was in elementary, it really hit him hard (it was just before his senior year and had he not done so well the years prior he would've failed HS because of it) - Diesss ???? It's like the whole "OMG they killed Kenny" bit more than anything - like if I had to describe it, he has the Loony Toons death curse, where he dies on screen but in the next panel he's fine cause no one can actually die on a kid's show, yk ? - Tons of piercings,, mostly on his face but also in other places on his body too, though it's more like two other places other than his face area - Loves Ska music obviously, but also punk and rock, thinks artists like Destroy Boys, GRLWood,

Edd - British,,, and probably has some Italian in him somewhere, y'know like family rumors/talk of like "well I'm 1/4 Italian" or "your some odd greats grandma was Italian" that kinda thing,,, not quite sure, not curious enough to care to get some DNA test kit - Homophobic (/j) Gay, man kisser, masculine hug enjoyer, he holds hands with other boysss - On the AroAce spectrum, not really a hard no on either, just more of something he doesn't think about on a day to day basis nor really care about unless the thought is put in his head - Moles scattered across his body (not many, just one or two here and there - and none that are particularly bad or harmful) - Wears reading glasses (more specifically blue light glasses cause he's looking at a screen all day every day) - The only one of the gang that doesn't have any genuine mental disorder,,, he's got his problems sure but he's neurotypical through and through - His problems being main character and plot armor - More seriously though he has a raging hero/savior complex that gets him into a lot of trouble at times - 6' even, second tallest of the group - Very apple shaped,,, when I draw him I think very round thoughts if that makes sense - Had a major emo phase in highschool,,, he kinda snapped out of it during Senior year, or rather the summer leading up to it, but man it was wretched LOL - A child of divorce (they still made it work for him - it wasn't like they fought or it was a domestic abuse thing, they just fell out of love with each other and couldn't stand being in the same house anymore, but they love Edd so they made it work for him the best they could) - Works as an animator - professionally and freelancing ! Hard fucking order but he LOVES they process of creating art, seeing the end result is so gratifying to him and being able to see all the love and attention he put into it - Has a Youtube channel where sometimes he reviews animated movies/shows/shorts - he doesn't update it a lot, it's like a "if I feel like it" cause he only does Youtube as a hobby and as a place to hold his animation portfolio - His first friend was Matt, they've been friends since like diapers - REALLY really good friends with Tord - doesn't really know why but they are like bound by the hip - He's only got ear gauges - he doesn't try and stretch them a ton like Tom does, he's fine with just normal sized gauges that don't stretch his lobes all that much - Has a VERY BROAD music taste, anything from Lemon Demon to Oingo Boingo, to PinkPantheress, to Joey Valence & Brae, to Weird Al,,, anything under the rainbow of music genres he's probably heard one song from each - PowerEdd is canon still !! Not the superhero, but the powers he and Eduardo now suffer with lol,, but they're not really potent, his body chemistry is just kinda fucky now cause of it,,, bro glows in blacklight and sometimes just in general

Matt - British/French,,, basically he's incredibly white - Pansexual (he used to also be GenderFluid in my headcanons,,, but in the past year or so I've decided against it - he's more of just a guy who likes makeup and to wear dresses more than anything else) - Ginger with freckles, they cover his body in splotches mostly, but he's got a few individual ones here and there on his body as well (they've clustered around his face, hands, elbows, shoulders, hips, knees and like two separate patches on his back) - His hairstyle has changed so much with me over the years and it's my own damn fault lol, I don't draw him enough but that most comes with the "I don't wanna draw him wrong" thing but if I don't ever draw him how will I draw him right ?? It's a cycle is what it is - The only one with prescription glasses since middle school - he just wears contacts instead, he HATES how he looks in glasses - his parents had him get LASIK surgery to correct his vision,,, since then - His personal account where no one (except like the gang) knows it's him is very unhinged, he says some devious shit on there (it's a public Twitter account) - Also Autistic, but in a DRASTICALLY different way than Tom is, they're like opposite sides of the spectrum (Tom doesn't mask often, Matt masks like all day every day, Tom can't make eye contact, Matt makes intense eye contact, that kinda thing yk,,, even despite the fact they both have texture issues they have very different issues with textures - also Tom was very early diagnosed and Matt only got diagnosed after Tom kept pestering him to do so) - He's some kind of narcissist, just haven't been able to really pin point it down yet,, I need to do some more research on it - this could change in the future because of that so this is like a maybe canon - His father left him when he was very young like maybe 5-8 range, and his mother married his step father WAY too soon after, him and Matilda is his step sister (He HATED her at first, she tried to be very kind to him cause they're the same age and everything, and this is the first time she's had a sibling, but every time Matt looked at her all he could see was his father leaving him,,, it took until after college for them to actually grow closer as siblings and friends) -6'1" just an inch above Edd - Edd was his first friend - they've been through thick and thin together, they comforted each other when both their parents divorced, so obviously they've got a bit of a trauma bond through that, and are really the only ones who understand that kind of issue - at least in their eyes - Twink. Through and through. Despite being partially French he's got very back luck with growing hair on his body, and when he does it's thin and very lightly colored - Works as a model and "social media influencer",,, basically he's a walking propaganda poster - Has earrings, mostly wears a lot of gold - Doesn't like listening to music often,,, this hurts me to write as someone who can't NOT listen to music, but he just doesn't have a music taste,, I've mentioned before how he listens to some female rappers and other song artists like Mitski and Girl in Red, but that's only because he's listened to them on like the radio or had someone else recommend them to him, he doesn't actively listen/search for music - Still a vampire,,, er, really just half vampire ?? I'd like to think they lads did a séance of some sort on him and for the most part it worked but like Edd his chemistry is still a little fucked cause of it, y'know ? Like he's still got pointed ears and teeth, can't really do much about that, and a BIG craving for red meat and the like, but he can survive without a constant need for blood, and his skin was already sensitive to the sun anyway so there's nothing really new there

Tord - Just a Norwegian fool - Trans Masculine (AFAB) He/Him - Bisexual (with a MASSIVE fem lean,,, he IS the bad taste in men) - His hair ? Yeah that's natural - he's got some WICKED cowlicks,,, when he was younger his mom would try to brush them back to make him look more normal, but even when his hair was longer it didn't really do much for him - ADHD haver, VERY late diagnosis and still doesn't really believe it, but that's a whole lot to do with misinformation of negative dumb jargon shoved down his throat - Narcissistic Personality TRAITS, not the disorder, but TRAITS of the disorder (as in he doesn't actively have the mind set and intentions of people with NPD, but he does have the mannerisms and habits of one,, but that's because of how he was raised by two Narcissists - it's a damn miracle he doesn't have the disorder, but either way he's gotta go to therapy about it,,, and he will,,,,,, eventually,,,,,,,,, after you drag him there by his hair but I mean he'll be there) - Tattoos on him as well (Left shoulder to a half sleeve of a snake, tramp stamp of Ouroboros, and between his shoulder blades beneath the back of his neck is Jason Voorhees' mask) - Can not regulate or understand his emotions,,, the only way he really knows how to deal with intense emotions of any kind is through very physical and aggressive means,, it's why him and Tom get into so many spats, but mostly cause Tom doesn't put up with his bullshit as someone who is very good at reading and understanding his own and others' emotions - Bro's got a very broad chest,, he's like incredibly male passing, even before having gone on Testosterone - Redditor. Sorry I don't make the rules except I do and he's a Redditor. - Also has an Instagram account and it's all thirst traps,,, and I'm torn between how much interaction he'd get on them,,, like I wanna say he gets none because he's a damn loser weebcell dorklord, but I've also seen how EW fandom craves him and that makes me think that this would be no different, ykwim ?,, sigh,, realistically speaking he would get a lot of interaction with his posts and I hate that for him I hope something bad happens to him - Technically Tom was his first friend (??) in the sense that Tom was the first person he met in highschool and was the one he talked to the most during then,, at least when Tom's life was stable, it gets kinda iffy after Tom's mom died and that's where the first part of their rift really started - But him and Edd and SUPER close, despite Tom being his first friend, Edd and him just click REALLY well - Has a similar death thing like Tom, except his is more of like the anime death curse - if he dies off screen, no the fuck he did not, he is coming back as the villain - LOVES Twenty One Pilots, favorite band of all time, usually he's not a die hard for a lot of things, but TOP is one of them, he also likes poprock/poppunk, things like that, think like Imagine Dragons and Mindless Self Indulgence (YES THEY'RE TERRIBLE I KNOW, LOOK AT WHO'S LISTENING TO THEM AND GET BACK TO ME ABOUT IT) but he also listens to hyperpop like S3RL and Machine Girl, but that's just cause of all the base it usually has - that's like background music for him to work to

That's pretty much all I can think of off the top of my head of just general thoughts for them,,, I'm sure I could think of more specific ones but then we'd be here all day

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

apologies to all of my followers but i'm gonna continue being insane abt ff14. no end in sight. hope everyone bothered by that has blocked the tag by now

anyway anytime i say literally anything abt zenos' narrative position i feel the need to preface it with a VERY large "ymmv dependent on your wol" disclaimer bc even if it's got nothing to do with shana and is entirely canon based i know the degree of like. reciprocity there. varies wildly. anyway pretend i said that better the important thing is i'm yes-anding his bit. anyway

ANYWAY i think zenos and ardbert are really great narrative parallels.

like, to both of them, the wol is their only friend and equal. both of them share or believe they share a kind of experience and mentality with you that basically nobody else could understand. both of them show up after all of your other friends/allies have been completely stomped by an expansion's final boss, while you're the last one dragging yourself forward, to be the one who helps you to victory. they both, in some sense, give their life to you (ardbert gives his remaining aether to put your soul back together, zenos cuts his head off rather than live outside your fight and then rides to the end of reality for you later if you don't want to count that one). they both get their dead body possessed by elidibus, which is more of a "two nickels" thing than a total parallel but i think it's fun so i'm putting it here anyway. they both serve as both enemies and allies at different points in the story without changing their core mission statement much at all.

they are also diametric opposites. obviously.

i think to a degree they are expressions/mirrors of two semi-opposing sides of the wol. The Hero and The Hunter. ardbert is the other half of your soul, the warrior of light, and by his own admission his favorite part of the job was never the battle itself, it was the calm that came afterwards. the warmth and security of knowing they'd helped and protected people. he lives and dies by those bonds - he's got a whole party behind him, and they all choose to give their lives twice over to try and give norvrandt a tomorrow. his stand with you is him remembering that fact, reaffirming his desire to help them despite the struggles. he cares deeply abt the world, abt giving them hope. your fight against hades is a manifestation of that determination. you'll drag each other up no matter how much it hurts because goddammit this world is yours and you are not going to stand by and let it die.

zenos by contrast is nothing so lofty. he does not give a flying fuck about people's hopes, or pain, or any of their emotions, or the general concept of tomorrow. he is the part of the wol that is the hunter, the person they become in the heat of battle that scares the shit out of their enemies. the one who finds joy in their work not bc they know it's bringing hope and light to the world but purely bc of the thrill of it. you are an adventurer—you wouldn't do what you do if you didn't find some pleasure in it. his bond with you is completely inextricable from your capacity for violence. he throws off the endsinger's despair not bc he gives you hope but bc hope and despair are foreign objects to him. he reminds you that your friends, the star, the hopes and dreams of reality are all outside the room, and inside it is just you, and your enemy, and you are nothing before you are death to your enemies. so why the fuck is it not dead yet.

like, you could make the case that it's the Best and the Worst, but i think that's only circumstantially true bc again: the wol couldn't be the wol, couldn't keep fighting and winning the way they do, if that part of them wasn't there. but i DO think it is a very present duality, that they reflect matching and opposite parts of you—the part that fights for love of the world, and the part that does it for love of the game.

[the-nysh]

Yes hello, I would deary love to hear your thoughts on Vash grappling E. G. the Mine, please? 👀 I loved your thoughts on his shooting skills and other grappling skills.

Also, any thoughts on Wolfwood? That big cross is so ridiculously big and heavy, but the way he just swings it around is impressive. (Also hnnng, that scene where he uses the laser beam to cut the Grand Worm in half was so cool.)

Omg, mkay lemme try to hunt for a gif of that choke hold real quick...

Because what gets my attention is the way Vash repositions and flexes his arm even tighter, from securely holding him there in a warning, to oh O.O;;; that looks real and he means business. 👀

Because there are 2 basic ways to choke someone out--in a fight!! Or err, a grappling/wrestling situation. The obvious way most people think of is the air tract--the trachea, which is a little awkward and takes longer, so the much faster and efficient (but less obvious) way is a blood choke--where you restrict the neck's artery circulation to the brain, and the person can easily/cleanly lose coordination and black out within moments, regardless of how well they can still breathe.

To do that, you get someone's head in the crook of your arm like Vash here, and flex your bicep and forearm tight around the inner sides of their neck--pressing in where both their pulse points would be (not the air!) at the same time and...yeah. Struggling around makes it harder to get into position (compared to practicing on a consenting still partner, which you can safely try! just remember to either tap out the moment you start feeling light-headed with a headache and/or see black spots in your vision, or better yet, sit while holding both hands raised up and the choker partner should release you the moment your hands start to drop), but once you get it, it happens pretty quick, and beefier guys can easily achieve this type of choke by simply flexing their muscles around a neck--heck they can probably crush the trachea too while they're at it for both chokes at once!

In Vash's case though, he doesn't want to render the guy unconscious just yet cause he still needs information from him, but I'm just saying...from this choke hold position he's in, he can easily do all that (and more) by flexing his real arm strength if he wanted to! 👀👀

----

Now for Wolfwood, ahaha gosh--in contrast to Vash, his ginormous Punisher Cross is so ridiculous (I think it's like 200-300lbs of mercy or something, also the skull design for the grip area is pretty rad, once I recognized what the shape was in the manga I was like oh neat!) that it's basically full on fantasy territory over much realism. :'D In before Vash shows us his over the top fantasy 'guns' too. No like actual person could lug that thing around, let alone effortlessly spin it around with the flair he does. That it's also really funny when he just -bonk- swings it like a heavy battering ram too. He also doesn't really need to dodge or utilize many defensive techs/maneuvers (that I've seen from him yet), beyond using the whole weapon as a body shield sometimes, since he can heal himself.

What his character and fighting style actually remind me of is the Desperado movie (with Antonio Banderas) in fact, one of the manga chapters was named after that too. Where the gunslinging mc comes waltzing out with his buddies who all carry around large guitar cases...that are actually hidden machine guns and fucking rocket launchers. x'D It's as hilarious as it is awesome to see them all just go ham in a wild west shootout with literal guitar-guns. So when Stampede Wolfwood brings out his updated cross-gun to flex a fucking laser beam canon out of it, now that's just lmaoooooooo, going stupid crazy on the 'rule of cool' factor, ohoho. x3

[probssomethingorother]

Back & Forth: a the last of us fic

another one of my fics! cross posting here :)

post-episode 8 Silver Lake hurt/comfort

Ellie & Joel, both riding the struggle bus, canon compliant,

Rating: Mature for dark themes, nothing more than the show

It was Joel who stumbled first.

He had felt the strength seeping out of him with every step so viscerally it was like his body was a container with a slow leak. His gate would falter and his hand would slip further down her shoulder, power waning. He would cough in his throat and blink forcefully trying to reignite the spark of energy that had carried him to Ellie just hours ago, but it was all a losing battle. And eventually, he lost it.

It was Ellie who moved first after that.

Another post-episode 8 fic cause (say it with me) there is really never enough!!!

chp 1 | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4 | chp 5 | chp 6 | chp 7

~28k words and on going (although not going to lie, its slow moving folks)

Preview the fic with chapter 1 undercut, although I think chapter 2 is much much better ...so if you skip to that I'm not going to blame ya

AND AND if anyone has any ideas for chapter 8 PLEASE PLEASE hit me up. STRUGGLING with writers block over here. I've tried to write something sooooo many times and come up with trash.

Chapter 1 ---

It was Joel who stumbled first.

He had felt the strength seeping out of him with every step so viscerally it was like his body was a container with a slow leak. His gate would falter and his hand would slip further down her shoulder, power waning. He would cough in his throat and blink forcefully trying to reignite the spark of energy that had carried him to Ellie just hours ago, but it was all a losing battle. And eventually, he lost it.

His right knee buckled, and then his left, and then he was falling to the ground, vision going black, Ellie coming with him in his wake. They landed face-first, their bodies mirroring the position they had been walking in—tucked close, Joel's arm draped over Ellie's shoulders, Ellie's arm clutching a fistful of fabric on Joel's back.

It was Ellie who moved first after that.

Once the initial shock of the fall dissipated, she raised her head slowly, eyes coming to meet the horizon line of the ground before casting a glance to the side towards Joel. His face was turned away from her, leaving Ellie only able to see the back of his head, his brown hair streaked with silver and dotted with unmelted snowflakes.

The weight of his arm across her upper back felt almost crushing, a bit anxiety-inducing even. It hadn’t felt like that before as they walked, but now it was entirely too much. With a soft whimper, Ellie released her grasp on the back of Joel’s thin jacket, and flipped herself over, before shoving his limp arm off of her and scooting out from under it. Joe’s leather coat fell off her frame in the process, but she ignored it even when the cold air hit her body like a punch, and made her shiver.

“Joel?” It came out as a hoarse squeak, barely audible over the sounds of the wind. He didn’t move or make any sort of sound, frozen in the position as he had fallen. Ellie had become comfortably numb in their walk away from Silver Lake - physically and mentally- but the deafening sound of his silence was enough to snap her out of any lingering dissociation. Getting onto her hand and knees, Ellie padded over to his other side, her heart quickening with nerves.

His eyes were shut as she crossed in front of him, catching glimpses of his cloudy breath escaping from his barely parted lips, almost buried in the snow. He was breathing and alive, for now. Just out cold.

Ellie’s small red-stained hand came to his shoulder and gave him a jostle, trying to rouse him. “Joel?” Another shake. “Joel.” There was less of a questioning tone on the second utterance of his name; it came out maybe even a little apathetic.

When he didn’t respond, Ellie sat back on her knees, debating what to do this time. For better or worse, this wasn’t the first time she was left with an unconscious Joel, in the snow, fleeing a bad situation.

“Joel open your eyes. Open your eyes. Joel you gotta get up… I can’t fucking do this without you. I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m gonna do… Joel…. Please. Joel, please.”

This time though, there was no pleading or frantic begging. Ellie wasn’t exactly sure if that was because she was too tired to do so, or if the shock of seeing him in this state again was just less on the second go around. Whatever the reason was, she didn’t particularly care. She just knew she wasn’t going to put herself in that emotionally vulnerable spot again, especially not after today. 

With a sigh, she used a good amount of her diminished energy to push and roll him over onto his back. She had forgotten how fucking heavy he was as dead weight. Goddamn.

A small groan escaped from Joel when Ellie moved him, but it seemed to be a reflex more than anything. 

“Joel?” Still nothing, but she checked just in case. 

And then it was like the clock reset, and no time had passed at all. The day's events hadn't even happened, it felt more like she had just come back from hunting or giving Callus some snow to munch. It was automatic, practiced, and systematic the way Ellie went to work, checking his state as she did over and over and over again in the basement. There was no difference, everything was on her. 

Hand to forehead - cold. Good. They were out in the snow, he probably should be cold.

Finger under nose - a subtle breath. Fine. 

Ear to chest- solid thumps. His heart’s still beating.

All great signs.

Her cold fingers struggled with the next step, grasping the bottom of his shirt shakily and raising it up slowly to reveal his stab wound. She leaned in closer to get a better look at it, craning her neck to catch it in the right light. There was a fresh trail of blood leaking from its jagged edges, but from what Ellie could tell, all the stitches still seemed to be in place. Although, truthfully, she was having trouble recalling at the moment how many she had put in the first place.  

Regardless, it didn’t look like he was bleeding out again. He was probably just fucking exhausted, which wasn’t a big surprise considering he had pretty much been dead to the world just that morning. In fact, Ellie was still in disbelief that he had found her as she stumbled out of the steakhouse - it seemed like a pretty fucking miraculous feat that he was even in front of her if you asked her.

With the same care she had shown in uncovering the wound, Ellie carefully lowered his shirt back down, satisfied that he wasn't bleeding profusely. Biting her lip, she pondered her next move. She knew they had to keep going, keep getting away, and eventually find shelter of some sort. Her own stamina was almost non-existent and the harsh cold was making her feel dangerously numb. Last time, she had supplies and Callus; but this time, it was just her, Joel, their backpacks, and his rifle. Their sleeping bags were gone, and she got Callus shot, so repeating that method was absolutely not a possibility in the slightest.

A small tear streaked down Ellie’s blood-stained face as she remembered the horse, the memory striking a particular nerve, despite all of the other shitty things to happen to her to that day. Ellie brushed the tear away hastily, not that anyone was there to see it, but more as a force of habit if anything.

She sat back on her heels again, pulling her knees to her chest, and started to work out a plan. With a deep breath, she tried to still the shaking in her hands and the fluttering in her stomach. It was a quiet sort of apprehension, not so profound as the last time she found herself in this situation, but certainly noticeable nonetheless.

Think. Think. Her mind was working slowly, her brain reeling from repeated blows. 

Looking around, the area stretched out before them was littered with trees and uninviting to say the least. The path forward wasn’t clear at all, not like last time when she just followed the train tracks until she eventually came across that neighborhood. Despite having spent the last week or so in the area, she had no idea where she was or how far away that neighborhood was now. In fact, she wasn’t even sure Joel had been leading her back that way, back to those houses. She had practically switched her mind off after falling into his arms and really hadn’t been paying any attention til now.

With a long exhale, Ellie forced herself up, wobbling on unsteady legs, and brushed the snow off her clothes. It didn’t matter where, Ellie just knew they couldn’t stay here. If the men from Silver Lake didn’t come and find them and kill them, the cold certainly would. They couldn’t be “sitting ducks” as Joel would say. Ellie still didn’t quite understand that saying, but she knew that’s what they were right now, out in the open, practically begging for death to come their way. 

And as if on cue, a noise from the trees made her head snap up. Her ears and eyes were at attention immediately, her heart jumping into her throat. A rustling sound broke through the wind, although she couldn’t see exactly where it was coming from. Her hand immediately went for the knife at her side, which she usually kept in her pocket, but found nothing. It was probably still with David back in that fucking town. She was defenseless. Instinctively, she took a step in front of Joel, ready to protect him anyway.

The trees swayed ominously, shadows dancing at every corner of her vision. She stared at the brush, squinting at the shadows. The cold wind rushed past her, carrying with it an eerie silence like the forest was holding its breath. But as the wind died, no more sounds came, and she let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. It was probably just an animal or something- not men following after them. The realization should bring some comfort, but it doesn’t. It’s more of a reminder of what could have been, what could be, at any minute.

The tense moment gave her just enough of an adrenaline rush to push her into motion. Her body ached deeply, but she moved rather swiftly in her next actions. She grabbed Joel’s leather jacket off the cold ground and slipped on it properly, and then grabbed her backpack and did the same. Ellie then snatched Joel’s backpack from his side and slipped it onto her front, glad it was actually a little lighter than normal. Next, she untangled the rifle from Joel’s left arm and repositioned it to lay across his chest, moving both his arms across it to secure it in place.

The snow crunched under her boots as she left his side and went back towards his head. Her body protested as she bent down, crouching to grab the collar of his jacket from underneath his head. She pulled with all her might backward, and Joel’s limp body scratched across the snow, just a few inches. With a heave, she pulled him again, his body moving another inch. Her arms screamed in protest, especially one of her shoulders, and after a minute she barely managed to budge him from the spot where he had collapsed. 

“Come on!” She huffed out, extremely frustrated that he wasn’t just gliding along the ground. Ellie gave it one more go, throwing all her might into driving her feet back into the snow as she gave a forceful pull, but it just made things worse. Joel’s body stayed still, as her fingers slipped off his collar, and she stumbled back onto her butt with all the momentum, her loose hair from her disheveled ponytail whipping in her face as she fell.

“Fuck.”

A frustrated huff left her lips as she realized her attempt to drag him like this was going to be futile.

She sat back catching her breath, slipping off Joel’s pack from her front, as her mind raced for a new solution. Last time she had attached a rope to his sleeping bag which allowed Callus to drag him along. She didn’t really have anything like that now, the closest thing to a rope was maybe this strap of- 

Her gaze fell on Joel's rifle, now slipping off where she had laid it over his chest.

With a renewed sense of urgency, Ellie hastily changed her position and crawled over to Joel, grabbing the large rifle in her hands. It felt like a massive icicle as she rolled it in her grip, debating if her idea would actually work. Casting it to the side for a moment, Ellie tugged one of Joel’s jacket sleeves off his body, and then grabbed the gun. She glided the long gun across his back, forcefully threading in through his opposite sleeve, before slipping his arm and the other end of the rifle back into the sleeve she removed. 

The next part was a little more of a challenge- raising Joel just enough off the ground where she could snake her arms under his jacket and pull the strap free, looping it up around toward his shoulders. With a groan, she grasped the lapel of his jacket and tugged him up just enough for one of her arms to reach and grab the leather band, the other desperately trying to do its part but feeling like it was holding a sack of bricks. When she finally grabbed it, her grip on the front of his jacket gave way, and Joel plopped back, not so gently. Wiggling her hand under his body, she found the strap again and pulled it up towards his shoulders, his jacket tugging awkwardly around him with the action. 

The rifle didn’t quite match Joel’s wingspan, and it made his arms and neck rest at a weird angle sure to hurt him later, but for all intents and purposes, it looked like it would work.

A Joel handle.

Like he was a bag of some sort or maybe dangling off a hanger.

Ellie then unsteadily moved to her feet, a slight wave of dizziness hitting her as she did so. She carefully bent down to grab the strap of the riffle and gave it as much of a hefty pull as possible, testing the hold and general proof of concept. Joel's body lifted slightly and moved much easier than when she had been just yanking by his collar, and a wave of relief washed over her. She gently lowered him back to the ground.

“Okay, fuck yes, okay,” she muttered softly to herself as encouragement, with a little nod of her head in accompaniment. She let out a breath and stole a glance at Joel before turning to retrieve his backpack and slinging it back across her chest. Stacked with their belongings, and an albeit crucified-looking Joel, Ellie started off, hands tightly grasping the leather band.

“I’m getting us out of here. Okay, Joel?” She said, even though she knew he wouldn’t answer.

With a grunt, she started to pull, using the strap for much-needed leverage. Slowly, she managed to drag Joel's limp body across the snow, but it was a long and arduous process. She stopped every few feet, catching her breath and giving her screaming muscles a break. She would switch her hold often as well, sometimes walking forward with her hands behind her back, sometimes the opposite, back turned to what was next, walking blind. She knew the latter was not particularly safe, but pulling him that way was a bit more fluid. Joel probably would give her an earful about it, if he wasn’t dead to the world right now. 

No matter how many times she stopped for a quick break, she always started to up again, her determination stronger than the bone-deep cold and exhaustion that threatened to consume her. 

That was until, at one point, she tripped while walking backward, and suddenly everything was catching up to her again.  As she crashed back into the snow, a wave of anguish washed over her, shattering something deep within. She remained on the ground for what felt like an eternity, grappling with the overwhelming urge to unleash a guttural yell into the frigid, wintry air. 

So fucking tired of this.  

She didn't even move when her backpack poked uncomfortably into her ribs, as it seemed to just blend in with all the other aches that she couldn't do anything about, almost seeming insignificant amidst the myriad of other aches plaguing her body. The impact had made her head pound, her stomach scream, and her chest tighten. It wasn’t even a particularly hard fall, but after almost thirty minutes of dragging Joel, her body was spent. She felt stripped bare, raw, with no means of restraining the fierce wave of emotions crashing into her. 

She really wasn’t a crier, not like this, but that’s what her body was now doing; her chest spasming with soft sobs. Ellie stared up at the dreary clouds and watched as the snowflakes fell, the little bits of snow coming down and hitting her face and mixing in with her tears.

It could have been minutes or hours as she stayed like that, just watching the snow fall and fall as slowly her tears subsided. For a moment, she seriously considered letting herself rest, just for a bit. She was so tired and so cold, and the gentle snow falling around them almost made the world seem peaceful. Ellie found herself turning onto her side, tucking her knees into her chest, and curling in on herself. 

She desperately wanted to sleep. To fade away and make the day stop. Maybe if she closed her eyes for just a moment…wait, no. 

With a jolt, she pushed the dangerous thought aside, forcing herself up onto her hands and knees and then back up onto some shaky legs. Can't get comfortable in the snow, people die like that.

A little dazed, she stumbled closer to Joel, checking on his unconscious form. His face was pale and his lips were starting to go a little blue. Fuck. Ellie knew she needed to get them out of the open air soon.

Gritting her teeth, she reached down and grasped the rifle strap once again, her red fingers almost turning white with the effort. With a deep, steadying breath, she began to pull, and inch by painstaking inch, her feet slipping through the snowy ground, she and Joel were on the move again.

It was only a few minutes later when she spotted it- the silhouette of a house barely visible through the snowfall. Another few feet more, the distant outlines she was seeing became clearer, and Ellie knew they were back in that neighborhood from before. She didn’t realize how close Joel had gotten them to it before he had passed out til now. If he could have just held on and walked for another twenty minutes, he could probably have made it to the houses on his own two feet. That didn’t really matter now though.

She quickened her pace as much as she could, the image of the houses spurring her on. It took every ounce of her remaining strength to keep dragging him, but eventually, she hit the edge of the neighborhood and did a beeline for the closest house in the vicinity.

“Almost there Joel,” she muttered as she dragged him toward an old fenced-in backyard belonging to a fairly intact-looking small home. The yard was overgrown, with weeds poking through the snow, and there were a few dilapidated small children’s play structures scattered throughout. It was going to be hard to maneuver him through, but she was going to have to do it.

With lots of starting and stopping, and some forceful heaves she was sure Joel would feel in the morning, Ellie dragged him onto the snow-dusted concrete porch, cautiously releasing him down as she surveyed the sliding glass door. She gave the white handle a tug, but it was definitely locked. Feeling herself fading fast, she decided brute force was really the only option left. She needed to be inside like yesterday.

Crouching down, she carefully untethered the rifle from inside Joel’s jacket, pulling it not so gracefully to snake it out from across his shoulders. It dawned on her that it was sorta lucky he stayed unconscious during this all because she didn’t know how she ever would explain why she strung him up like that on his own rifle. It was really only once the large rifle was back inter hands, did she realize just how crazy of a contraption it had been. Surely there must have been a simpler way, she just never gave herself a chance to think of anything. Not that she probably would have been able to - her brain was feeling awfully jumbled after what David put her through. Grasping the rifle firmly, Ellie rose to her feet, and with a steadying breath, and tight hold, she slammed the butt of the rifle into the glass by the handle. Thankfully, as intended, the gun left a respectable hole in the brittle old glass, just enough for Ellie to slip her hand through and flick the lock over on the other side.

She dropped Joel’s gun almost immediately and unlocked the door, catching the side of her hand on the glass in her haste. She retracted it instinctively with a hiss and gave it a quick look, only to realize that she couldn’t really tell where she was cut because her hands were still red from all the other crimson substance stained there- all of David’s blood. Images of his eviscerated head flashed in her mind and made her feel nauseous. Ellie gulped as she shook away the thoughts, going back to sliding open the door. This wasn't the time.

With the sliding door wide open, she paused for a moment and listened, just in case there were some stray infected. She hadn’t seen any in quite a while, but you never know. Content after a minute of silence, and hoping that it was as abandoned as it seemed, Ellie wiggled off her and Joel's backpacks and through them haphazardly through the door, uncaring where they landed. 

Free of their encumbrance, Ellie bent down and slipped her arms beneath Joel's, lifting him up just barely with a large grunt. The action made her head swim and stars paint her vision. She swayed a little under both Joel's added weight and her diminishing strength. She let out a long shaky exhale, trying to steady herself.

Almost there. 

Ignoring her body’s warning to let up, Ellie quickly dragged Joel through the sliding back door, a wave of relief washing over her as they moved out of the freezing winter weather. She dragged him a few feet inside, into what appeared to be the living room, leaving him close to an old ratty couch before turning back to shut the door behind them.

The dizziness had only gotten worse by that point, and when she turned around to walk back to where she had left Joel, her vision was going dark. She stumbled, falling onto her knees, and then for a brief moment she tried to fight it before she was keeling over onto her side as exhaustion completely overtook her.

She was out.

[olderthannetfic]

Hi there! I hope you're having a nice day.

Little bit of a rant and a bid for advice, if you or your readers have any. I hope that's alright.

I'm currently writing a fic or maybe multiple fics (plot bunnies be running rampant in me brains) about a rarepair of two guys. I'm a bi woman and have basically zero social skills, so in order to properly understand other people's body language, I like to look up guides or articles about body language between two people, although I know those things are full of bullshit and don't mean anything, and it's hard to find articles for example about whether another woman's body language indicates interest in you if you're a woman yourself, but eh, they're still better than my brain which is usually like "eh, could mean this or that or this or that or this or that or- basically could be anything, I wouldn't know that lol, now I'm tired and will shut off, bye" aka useless as well.

The results I've found have been absolutely useless. I like writing characters in a slightly plausible-sounding way, so I like incorporating body language as in acting choices or subconscious body language (or whatever a proper term might be) in my writing to make it sound more in-character. So for stuff like this, I usually just think "ok what is that person's expression and if I do it, what would that indicate me to be feeling currently", and I don't know if other people do that or if that's just me being bad with social stuff and intuition about it again, and if I should really try to get re-evaluated for autism which I have been advised to think about doing multiple times in multiple direct and indirect implicative ways such as people being like "hey btw are you autistic? no? you sure?" or "I know you got a negative diagnosis as a kid, but maybe that was wrong and you might wanna do it again because of all your social struggles and sensory stuff etc.", heh. (Have been diagnosed with ADHD though, so that might also just be it.)

Sorry for the rambling. English isn't my first language, so if anything sounds strange, that's to blame.

My question or rather bid for advice is: I am wondering if you or your readers might have any advice on where to find resources for reading body language and romantic or sexual implications in body language between two parties, in this case between two guys.

(Hopefully this is not too nonsensical or insensitive or something like that because that's not my intention. I just really don't know how to human or if there actually is some difference on how different people of different genders flirt consciously or subconsciously or if that's some weird unnoticed transphobic bio-essentialism shit that I hadn't yet noticed and sorted out of my head because I don't want to be transphobic since that sucks.)

--

Weeell...

If people have links to guides, that's great, but I do think that in the context of fanfic, people often write flirting that they find sexy or they write whatever the canon style of interaction is and recontextualize it as how these particular guys flirt.

They're not usually thinking "What does flirting look like in general?" and then having the characters behave in a new way.

A lot of our interpretation of body language in written fiction has to do with information we get from the POV character about how they're feeling internally. For the non-POV character, we may have the POV character's thoughts on what the body language means, but we're generally interpreting it based on media cliches and based on knowing this is a ship fic.

So the other dude acts like he doesn't like our POV dude and the POV dude is like "Alas, my pining is unrequited!" and the audience goes "Ooooh, it's one of those fics!"

If the goal is writing certain types of fic, you may not need a guide to How People Really Act as much as one to How Fans Interpret Such and Such a Behavior from Canon as Subtext.

[pavutynko]

hi!! I've seen ur art since a time now, and I think it's amazing! do u have any tips or reference pics to do ur spiderverse oc ♡

Greetings! Since time i haven't checked the ask box so i really apologize for not answering in time.. and quite late, i suppose it have been half-year? Or few months idk

Anyway, spiderverse oc, tips or reference pics.. i suppose you're asking me how to make your own oc (if I'm wrong, please correct me, I'll reply on that too if still interested!)

So, let's just say, spideroc is a journey, you don't have to make perfect design from first try (believe me i tried). It's works for all oc's but yeah, keep in mind that you can change over time and so the oc's design

Spideroc's abilities and costume can be practical AND/OR can be absurd. C'mon, we know about hammerspace and Hobie's hair in mask. It depends on character i suppose but sometimes you can put logic aside and make it as their dimension's thing

Don't be afraid making their abilities unique, adding extra arms, webs. But don't forget about weaknesses, they're making character more believable. It can be physical, emotional, psychological or any other type, the main thing is to give them wings but don't let fly too close to the sun (that' makes sense in my head)

I didn't count so I'll say its 4 tip. I feel like every spiderperson you can draw as silliest as can and still they be recognisable. I think that's the best design choice. You could see which details are too much and change them

Don't forget the story of character, their suit or looks depend on their personality and lifestyle. Plus dimension style (WHICH I LOVE), you can add them uniqueness by drawing them in different style than others. (Imagine their introduction style, their comics, got it? Then create it!

Plus, lets say, the canon events are indeed important but not like you really have to make all of them, few? Yeah. Since we don't really know if that's the real thing i suppose those spiderppl who has canon events that aren't canon enough just don't get into spidersociety (just a theory). So you can play around it too. But if you want opposite, full spidersociety member then maybe make canon events more canonlike (actually fuck the rules, make it however you like, i won't tell Miguel)

Extra tips which i thing someone needs (like i needed too). Don't be afraid of making kid, adult, old spiderperson, there's a lot of field for creativity too, or make young spiderperson, that's also interesting, just remember better not set boundaries where THERE'S A WHOLE SPIDERVERSE OF SPIDERMAN VERSIONS and they can be really REALLY different (Just look at background characters from atsv and you'll get what i mean). Also body types or even creature variations, do an alien spideroc and that will be amazing

Bonus thing i saw lots of spideroc authors made is designed their villain AND GODDAYMN THAT'S SO AMAZING I REALLY WANT TO DO THAT TOO (even though Mayo's dimension doesn't play any role in main story i present BUT C'MON). Do that too if you can, if not, just keep in mind your villains can be unique and can be more to canon.

About partners of Spiderman.. play around! Ship with original character, with person from other dimensions, with spiderperson, with canon spiderperson. Just c'mon, DO IT, if it fuels you then DO IT SHARE IT AND WE'LL EAT IT. Enjoy your time being in spiderverse fandom (but keep it legal, okay? No proships, got it? I'm watching you)

And last and not least as i said, play around, fuck the boundaries and rules if needed, or if needed make them tough, give your oc struggles and desires, needs and mistakes. Just keep moving, just keep going! Have fun!

(you can use it for creating oc too but you see i concentrate more in spideroc)

[runwhileyoucan]

Crowley's head canons, part 2！

Here's part 1

Again big thanks for （@bright-omens ） who sparked the idea of nurodiversed Crowley.  When I wrote this, I looked around and my room was pitch black because it was night time already. Ahh shi―

Well this will be way more head canon stuff then part 1 but still loosely based on it. enjoy！

1）you know how he cant tell when to say thank you. It's like Gabriel no one really says it to him so he's like, “right... humans say it now... right?”

2）dosant mask.  Drink it in. Yep.

3）suppresis swearing arouned Aziraphel because Aziraphel dosant like it.

4）when ecited starts stuttering, docent really tries to stop it if it's not an emergency because he doesn't care what others think.

5）vocalises thoughs because he can think better when hes alone.（when hes alone in the aprtment, when hes in the bar after azis book shop burns down）

6）This demon gota have a big book of ducks next to the space.

7）Literally can't stand silense and keeps on talking when ever one else is silent.

8）likes enphsizing words because its FUN.（loud voice, rhytorical question stuff）

9）strugles with stuttering more when hes suppresised tired exited or nervous

10）Probably the type of person that jumps up and down before starts running

11）thinks if he uses a big voice people wold be scared of him haha god thanks for the trauma

12）likes doing call back to what others say（could be because its a cool thing for a tv show to do i like the idea that he likes going arouned qoting stuff）

13）When he's tired he will muddle up words more and won't correct himself. Because who cares.

14）if he dosant know how to say stuff with words, Literary will go full in body language（Ex： the nose sniffling thing when changing or moving a conversion forward, the KISS that makes me cry when i think about more then ten seconds）

15）when trying to remember something clicks his fingers

16）when upset or under presher words dont flow well.（Ex：“I, won't, even, think, about, you！”）

17）i noticeed this but dont know what it means. Like Crowley will say something and then smile at the end of it. Like why not smile and say it. He would have to have a straight face and say stuff and then give a big smile. It's cute.

18）bad at phone calls.（dosant pick up azis phone call antill half way though and nealy keeps it on voice message, dosant know when to talk, talking to azi“its me” no dear say your name. ）

（The way he looks unconfidun af when he's in the book shop answering the phone for azi makes me cry the way he says everything before the other can speake.. i sobed）

19）and missed social ques sometimes（not raising hand for the magic trick, the exact thing with azi. Again.

20）gets adrenaline from driveing his car super fast.

21）struggle making eye contact when talking about intimate topics（lookin at everwere but azi, sunglases）（it so sweet how he tryed to talk to him with out the sunglases the hell hit)

22）would rather moov stuff with his legs but azi looks at him with"the loon"（like opening doors he would kick evet door open if he got his way）

23）can't control the volume of their voice when I'm excited. （When he points at the book when azi asks about it and him pulling it out and shouting）

24）he's not good at spacialaly awer and the sunglases make it super difficult to walk. （Literary walks in to every thing）

25）His hypich voice that he uses to play arouned is a stim.（“HELLO”, “Celestial Harmony”, “EtirNity！

26）when nervous hands shiver so badly and drop stuff by mistake. Drops cups and shit. He normally fixes it with his miracles but it's still pretty annoying.

”I love Crowley so much. I won't talk about him every day from now on. Please someone let's talk about good omens for an unhealthy amount of time...

[yeenybeanies]

Smallest Cyber Specialist (pt. 10)

in which price sets pip down for a little chat & check in. poor gal's had one helluva week. now that alex is confirmed back & alive, i'm SCRAMBLING… (don't get me wrong i'm delighted to see my beloved yankee again but) i was already struggling to work his disappearance into the timeline & now it's all just an even bigger mess --w-- oh well. we don't need to pay attention to canon timelines! this is fanfiction! so what i say in my story goes. first • previous • next call of duty | john mactavish/soap, john price, & pip lagomorph/lag (oc) 4,392 words strong language warning thanks for reading!! patreon ✨ ko-fi ✨ ao3

The sound of approaching boots woke Pip from her nap. Her body stiffened, stock still under the cover of her newly finished pelt. It wasn’t perfect—not near as lifelike as she would have made if she’d had access to proper hideling tools—but it would still serve its purpose when needed.

As the boots drew closer, Pip realized that she knew those footsteps. That gait. The hideling sat up abruptly, the pelt draped over her head and shoulders like a hooded cloak. “Soap?”

“The one and only,” the sergeant said. Pip pulled the hare head—her hood—down and shook her head, her hair a little unruly from her nap. Soap came to stand in front of the table, hands on his hips. “Feeling any better?” 

Pip’s face went sour. “Not particularly,” she said flatly. She ran her fingers through her hair to smooth the errant strands. It didn’t help much. “Sorry if I woke you up last night.” 

“You didn’t,” Soap said. He rested his hands on the table and bent down to be closer to her level. “Matter of fact, of all the people I’ve shared a bunk with, you’re the least disruptive.” 

Wonder why. “So then why did you wake up?” she asked. 

Soap reached for her—no, her pelt. He pinched one of the tiny paws between his thumb and forefinger, and gently rubbed the fur. Pip surprised herself with the realization that she barely tensed up at the action. 

“Not sure,” he answered. For a moment, he looked thoughtful. But then his goofy smirk appeared. “Maybe I sensed you were upset through our handler’s bond.” 

That smirk had been a warning. A precursor. Before the words even left his mouth, Pip braced herself, fully expecting him to say something ridiculous. And there it was. She stared at him, face blank, for a long moment. His smirk bloomed into a full-blown grin. 

There was one good thing about humans having multiple names. Pip could pull a lesser-used name for greater emphasis on what she had to say: “MacTavish, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“Y’know, our bond!” Soap explained. He dropped the paw he held and nudged Pip’s shoulder with a gentle knuckle. “Like—like the bond between man and dog!” 

Pip grimaced and pushed back against his knuckle. “I hate dogs.”

“Ach—I suppose you would. I don’t like ‘em much either.” Surprising. That there was something they had in common. “Let me try again: like the bond between a horse and its rider.” 

Really, what the fuck was this man going on about? Pip gave Soap a look-over, her brows furrowed. “Are you… are you the horse in this analogy…?” 

“No, but—” Soap started to protest, but he stopped short. There was something about how he pursed his lips in a little pout when he thought… Ugh, none of that, Pip. “Actually, I guess I would be. Me and the rest of your handlers. Considerin’ we carry you around everywhere.” 

“Not by my choice,” Pip grumbled to herself. 

Soap laid his hand down next to her, palm up. “C’mon, Lag. Your mighty steed wants some breakfast, and he’s guessin’ you do too.” 

Why was he like this? “Why are you like this? Talking about yourself in third person, referring to yourself as a ‘steed.’” She wasn’t laughing, but a part of her—a part that she was mentally beating back with a stick—did find it kinda funny. Just a little bit. She wasn’t about to tell Soap that, though. 

Nevertheless, Pip quickly gathered her belongings, donned her backpack under her pelt, and crawled onto Soap’s hand. They were already in the mess hall, so it wasn’t like they had far to go. She gestured vaguely. “Onward then, steed.” 

Much of the morning went by in a relative blur. Pip shared breakfast with Soap, who didn’t seem to take any offense when she fell into relative silence as he rambled on. She did feel a bit bad about it, but she just didn’t have it in her to engage in much banter right now. He'd spent all of her banter points right in the beginning. Gaz came as a saving grace, giving Soap another outlet for his chatty nature so Pip could… could wallow. 

That was the best description she could give herself for what she was doing. She was wallowing in grief. 

Hard fucking week.  

As the sergeants conversed, and more people gradually filed in and out of the mess hall, Pip found herself lost in thought with eyes unfocused. 

She and Bash, at one point, had been nearly joined at the hip. They’d grown codependent of each other early on. She huffed to herself, remembering how one of their instructors had forced them to work separately. It had sucked at the time, of course, but Pip knew that it was better for them in the long run. It was better for her. Gave her room to grow into her role. How would she have been able to do her job had they been allowed to stay together? She likely never would have met Alex, nor Looker…

Fuck.  

Pip sighed, scrubbing a hand through her hair. Her eyes wandered down to the cast on her leg, and the dark signatures scribbled across it. 

She never would have ended up here, with the 141. 

Whether that was a good or a bad thing, she hadn’t yet decided. The situation she found herself in currently was awful, of course, but these four men… they weren’t so bad. 

Gods, though, she missed Bash. She missed Alex. Missed Looker. Her heart ached…

“Oi, Earth to Lag. You in there, lass?” A poke to her shoulder made the hideling flinch, suddenly back in the mess hall. She blinked, looking a little lost. 

“Huh? Wha…?” Looming over her was Captain Price. When had he gotten here? She hadn’t heard his approach. He regarded her with one brow raised, inquisitive. “Captain,” she greeted, nodding her head. “Sorry, sir, did you say something?” 

“I did,” he said. “Asked if you’ve finished with any of that data you nabbed.” 

“Oh.” Pip pulled her backpack closer and set it in her lap. “For the most part, yes, sir. There are a few more files I want to comb through, but I think I’ve gotten just about everything useful that I can from—”

Price held up his hand, silencing her. “We’ll talk in my office. C’mon.” He set that hand down behind her, silently asking to pick her up. Or, more likely, he was letting her know that he was going to pick her up. She hesitated, the inside of her cheek drawn between her teeth, then nodded. Thick fingers slipped around her middle, scooping her, her pelt, and her pack up in one fell swoop. He cupped his other hand under her to support her, and straightened to address the sergeants. “Gentlemen,” he said with a nod, then strode on out of the mess hall with Pip in hand. 

Why did he want to talk in his office? Why couldn’t they go over her findings in the mess hall, with Gaz and Soap? Wouldn’t it have been easier with them present? They were likely going to need to know this stuff later anyway—

“Relax,” Price said, once again yanking Pip from her thoughts. She looked up to see him staring straight ahead, though she suspected he was watching her through his peripherals. “Either you’re shaking more than normal, or that’s your heart I feel buzzing in your chest.” His fingers shifted, his thumb pushing under her pelt to rest against her back.

Sure enough, her heart was pounding. It slammed back against her ribs, against the pad of his thumb. She was letting herself get worked up. “I’m fine, Captain.” 

“You’re a shit liar in person.” 

She pulled a sour face. Price was the second person to tell her that lately. She’d heard it before from Alex and Looker, too. 

Upon entering Price’s office, the captain closed the door behind him, and set Pip down on his desk. He rounded it to take his seat, and opened up his laptop. Pip dug her own laptop from her bag and set it down on her lap, pulling up the important documents she’d compiled in her analysis. 

“So,” she started, “I’ll send you what I’ve found—” 

“Hold off on that,” Price said, cutting her off. He leaned forward, hands folding on the desk. Pip felt a sense of alarm rising in her chest. Her heart quickened again. “Laswell called me this morning.” 

More alarm. It rushed through her like a jolt of electricity. Pip swallowed thickly, but said nothing. Price continued. 

“Calm down, Pip. She was just askin’ about you, how you’re holding up after… well, everything.” 

Pip took a breath, trying to ease her anxiety. “What… did you tell her?” 

“Told her you’re doing fine,” he said. “But I know that’s not quite true. So I want you to tell me how you’re doing.” 

He wanted her to talk to him? About her problems? Her personal woes? Pip found herself immediately resistant to that idea. She scrunched her nose and breathed out sharply. “Captain, I’m f—” 

“Don’t…” Price held up a finger, his eyes narrowing, “...tell me you’re ‘fine.’ Don’t lie to me, Pip.” 

He was using her name. Not her callsign. Not the stupid nickname he’d given her. He was using her name. A shiver crawled down Pip’s spine. He was turning that human-multiple-names thing against her.

“This isn’t necessary, Captain,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “You’re right—I’m not fine. But my problems are my own.” 

“I lead this task force,” he said. “My people’s problems are my problems.” 

Pip wanted to retort that she wasn’t his people. She opened her mouth, intent on saying just that, but she stopped herself and took a breath. Slow in, slow out. Calm down. 

The fact that he did think of her as his people… well, she didn’t want to examine how that made her feel right now. 

“Price, with all due respect… I would prefer it if you didn’t pry into my personal matters. This… turmoil I find myself in won’t affect my work. I promise you that.” 

Price leaned back in his seat, one hand swiping thoughtfully over his mustache and chin. “I’m sure you think that,” he said. Pip felt a spark of indignation rising in her. That sounded awfully patronizing. The man continued, “And I do believe you. To an extent. I’m not worried about your work, though, Pip. Far as I’m concerned, you do damn good work. The shit you did yesterday?” He sucked his teeth and shook his head. “Impressive stuff. I told you as much.”

Hearing the compliments again made her fidget uncomfortably. This conversation was giving her a lot of mixed signals. “So… if you’re not worried about my work suffering, then why are we talking about this? I have intel that you need to see. That’s more important.” 

Price stared at her for a long moment, long enough to make her squirm. That indignation was getting hotter, kindling inside her. “We’re talking about this,” he said finally, “because I’m worried about you. Not your work, but your well-being.” 

What…?

Pip jerked her head back, reacting almost as if she’d been struck. “Wha—you’re— what?” 

The captain rolled his eyes. “Shocking, I know, to learn that the captain cares about his people.” Pip opened her mouth again, ready to refute that statement now, but Price cut her off once more, “And don’t you give me any shit about you ‘not working for me.’ I can see you tossing that argument around in that little head of yours.” 

Pip made an offended noise. Price reached for her, gently pinching her jaw between his thumb and forefinger to make her look at him. 

“Like it or not, while you’re out here, with us, you’re one of mine,” he said. There was a low growl in his voice that stirred something in her core.

It was so easy to feel powerless around humans. Pip swallowed, almost sure that Price could feel the bob in her throat. She didn’t like feeling powerless. So, voice low, she said “Take your hand off of me.” It was an effort to maintain some control of herself and her surroundings. 

And Price did as requested. As he was told. Pip found that a little surprising, if she was being honest with herself, but nevertheless her relief was immediate. She rubbed at her jaw, where his skin had met hers. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, a bit softer. 

“No,” she said quickly. That wasn’t a lie. 

“Good. So here’s how this is gonna go, Pip.” Price retreated from her immediate space and folded his hands again. “You and I are gonna chat about what’s bothering you. Then you can tell me all about that intel, yeah?” He met her scowl with a raised brow. She had a feeling that she was not being given much choice here. So much for having control. 

Even still, she felt compelled to ask: “And if I refuse?” 

The skin and muscle wrinkled around his eyes, a tight, mirthless smile spreading under his mustache. “Then I’m sending you back to Laswell.” 

“What —?” Her jaw dropped. She grabbed her crutch and moved to stand, but Price held up a hand. He didn’t touch her. He didn’t have to. It was warning enough to stay seated. Pip eased back down, lip curled just so. “Sir. You said so yourself: I’m helping. Why would you send me away?”

“I know this might seem unfair—”

“Do not patronize me,” she hissed. She was getting sick of repeating this. “Speak to me like an adult.” 

Price flexed his jaw to the side, none-too-appreciative of her tone. “What I mean to say is: I’m not singling you out. I do this with the others, too. Gaz, Soap, everyone.” 

“Ghost?” 

Ah, shit. She regretted her question as soon as it left her mouth.

Price breathed out a wry chuckle. “Especially Simon. That man needs it more than anyone.” 

Pip looked away, chewing the inside of her lip. Guilt was creeping onto the edge of her conscience. Price seemed to notice. 

“Oh… you’ve gone digging where you shouldn’t, huh?” He didn’t sound surprised or angry so much as disappointed. Remorseful. Pip didn’t need to answer. “Do us all a favor and keep it to yourself.” 

Yeah. Yeah, she would. After finishing most of her work last night, she'd gotten a little too curious for her own good, and poked through some of the "non-existent" documents she'd found under Ghost's file. She’d learned the hard way why those files had been so tightly sealed.

And now she was just going to have to carry on like she didn't know. Great. She wasn't looking forward to seeing him again any time soon.

“Enough about them,” Price continued. “Go on then. Tell me what’s bothering you.” 

“John, I—” woah. Hearing his first name on her tongue seemed to surprise the both of them. Pip shook her head and tried again. “Price, I really… really don’t want to do this.” 

His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Then don’t. I’ll let Laswell know, and have you on a plane by day’s end.” 

Bastard. She didn’t want that either! She wasn't a quitter! She wouldn't leave this hellhole mission until it was done! The hideling ducked her head and scrubbed her fingers through her hair with a frustrated groan. 

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck—

“Rot in the fucking sun, you—” she grumbled in hidespeak, then steeled herself and switched back to English. “Fine. Laswell told me yesterday that my best friend—a hideling I grew up with and went through training with—went missing weeks ago. His handler was found dead, and he’s presumed dead as well, though his body and belongings were not recovered. I find this distressing for a number of reasons.” 

Price watched her carefully, saying nothing. 

She continued, “His name is—was? fuck—his name is Bash. And he’s the closest thing to family that I had.” Her voice shook. Pip cleared her throat and forced her words around the lump rising there. “So I’m not… taking it well.”

“Understandable,” Price said with a nod. 

“And then—and then I’m still reeling from Looker dying. He—he was my handler, my partner, for four years , Price. And he’s just… he's just gone .” Pip stared down at her hands, watching them shake in her lap. “I didn’t even get to see him before you guys sent his body back…”

“We didn’t know that—” Price started, but it was Pip’s turn to interrupt him with a raised hand. 

“Not your fault. I know. It’s just… Ugh. And then his ex-wife was making a fuss, trying to contact me, and I…” 

“His ex-wife…? Bloody hell, Pip…” That disappointment was back. It stung a little. “Don’t tell me you called her…”

“It was stupid. I know. I didn’t tell her anything about me, or what we’re doing—obviously—but…” Her shoulders shook with a heavy sigh. “I don’t even know why I called her. She’s a jealous, spiteful woman, and the conversation just made me feel worse.” 

“I could’ve told you that would happen,” Price said. 

“Wish you had.” 

“Would have, had you said something.” 

Pip huffed. Yeah. Any of her handlers probably would have done the same. She should have just let Ghost talk her out of it last night. 

“Didn’t know Looker well,” Price said. “When Laswell sent him over, I only had a couple quick conversations with him before he…” He trailed off, and Pip was thankful for it. “He seemed like a decent enough bloke, though. I am sorry we lost him.”

“Yeah… Yeah, he was…” She sniffled, but swallowed down any other threats of crying. Price did not get to see her cry. "Anyway,” she continued, “all of this has just… well, Bash is the third person close to me that I've lost recently. And it’s just… a lot. On top of the stress of being forcibly revealed to all of you.” 

Price reached for her again, but stopped short of touching her. His hand stilled behind her, not yet making contact. “Is this okay?” he asked. After a moment of contemplation, she nodded. His fingers curled around her back, draping over her shoulders. She sighed under the weight and hung her head, eyes closed. Price’s warmth seeped into her through her pelt and jumpsuit.

“You said Bash was the third. Guessing Looker was the second. Who was first?” 

Pip reached up to pull her pelt tighter around herself, but instead found the pad of Price’s index finger. It twitched under her touch, but neither of them pulled away. She sighed, and continued, “Found out about two months ago that my first handler went missing in Urzikstan.” She laughed dryly, her hand idly running over the whorls of Price’s fingerprint. “Took that one hard too, because I thought I’d lost him once before when he got blown up a few years back.” 

The fingers behind her went tense. Pip glanced back at them, then up to Price’s face, brows furrowed. He gave her a similar look. “Alex ? Alex Keller?” Hearing his name, the hideling straightened, her heart in her throat. “Alex was your handler?” 

“Y–yes…? Wait, you knew him?” 

Price sighed and rubbed at his forehead with his free hand, his eyes going distant. “He and I worked together in Urzikstan back in 2019. I led the team with him, Gaz, and Farah. I was there when that factory went up. We all thought he’d died then too. But then the bastard turned up a month later with a shiny new leg.” 

Pip couldn’t help another sniffle. She was starting to choke up again, but she was determined not to cry. Not here. “When he got assigned to take on Al-Quatala, I was forced to part ways with him,” she said. “At the time, our council didn’t allow us to go overseas much—certainly not to active war zones.” 

“And here you are now…” His thumb brushed her arm, offering a small comfort. 

“Yeah,” she said flatly. “Here I am now. Half blown up myself, being forced to talk about my personal problems to one of my four new handlers.” 

Despite it being forced, though, Pip did feel a little bit better, having aired all of her woes out. She’d sooner die than tell Price that, but it was true regardless. 

The hand curled around her, gently lifting her off of the desk and cupping beneath her to bring her closer to Price’s level. “Hey,” he said, feigning offense, “We’re not all that bad. I can see you’re getting used to us. Even coming around to liking us.” 

Pip scoffed and rolled her eyes. The humor was a sudden, but not unwelcome change of pace. Maybe she did still have a few banter points left after all. “Gaz is okay. I guess.” 

Price gave her a knowing, infuriatingly smug look. “So you’ve expressed a liking for Soap, Ghost, and now Gaz. No love for your captain, ey?” 

Her captain? Hah! 

Pip turned her eyes up in thought, counting on her fingers, “Mendoza, Jacobs, and Reed got me this hare, so I guess they’re okay too…” 

That got a balk from Price. He nudged her shoulder with his thumb, much less comforting this time. “That right? You called me John a few minutes ago, and now you say you like rookies more than me?” He almost sounded offended, but the smile under his mustache and the amusement in his eyes betrayed him. 

Pointedly not meeting Price’s eyes, Pip instead peered over his hands, to his desk and the floor below. “Hm. Bet I could make that jump, even with this cast…” 

As was the expected reaction, the captain’s hands cupped around her more, walling her between them. “Don’t. I’ve had Nik set your next vet appointment for next week already; don’t need you limping around on two broken legs until then.” 

Her expression fell to a scow immediately. “Fucking vet,” she spat. “Unbelievable. I’m still mad about that.” 

Price shrugged. “Vets specialize in binding tiny limbs. It’s the best place to patch you up.” 

Yeah, yeah, she understood the reasoning, but she didn’t have to like it. “And after putting me through that humiliation, you still don’t give me anything to drink for the pain.” 

“Bloody hell.” Price tipped his head back in exasperation. He shifted to hold Pip in one hand so he could gesticulate with his other. “You were just in my hidden stash last night.” 

Pip’s blood ran cold. “Uh…” She found herself suddenly tongue-tied, her cheeks heating in embarrassment. “I don’t, uh—”

“And I know Simon’s the one that takes you.” 

Shit. How'd he find out? Not just about last night, but the time before, too! She wasn’t about to rat Ghost out, though. Pip shook her head adamantly. “No. I found it myself.” 

Price chuckled. “Not gettin’ any better at this lying thing, Lag. Your whole body goes tense, and you look like a deer in headlights. Never mind that your story is bullshit. You can barely walk.” He tapped the knee of her cast for emphasis. “Let alone lift a floor panel and unscrew a bottle.” 

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” she retorted. “With or without this cast. Isn’t it a human saying, ‘if there’s a will, there’s a way’?” 

His smile spread into a grin, thoroughly amused. “Part of me hates that you’re lying right to my face, but a bigger part of me loves that you’re trying to protect Simon. Wholly unnecessary, by the way. But I’m sure he’d appreciate it too.” 

The hideling refused to meet his eyes, her cheeks and ears burning. “Are we done now?” She was pretty eager for another topic change. This conversation had already gone on far longer and taken more turns than she wanted. 

Price lowered his hand back down to the desk and let her off next to her laptop. “Sure. Just one last thing. Look at me, Lag.” Reluctantly, she did. “I’m sorry for your losses. Truly I am. We’re holding out that Alex might still be alive, but you know how this goes.” 

Pip nodded. “Yeah. I do,” she said softly. When he said nothing more, she took that as her cue to start her briefing. 

Finally.  

They’d wasted enough time and energy on her emotional bullshit. 

As she was pulling up and sending over documents, she heard Price shuffling around in one of his desk drawers. She didn't bother looking up until she heard the unmistakable sound of a lighter sparking to life. Her head snapped up, immediately finding a cigar between the captain’s fingers. He rotated it slowly, expertly, to give it a proper light. Just before putting it between his lips, though, he caught Pip staring, and winced. 

“Ah, bollocks—probably shouldn’t smoke around you. Sorry—” 

Before he could snub it out, Pip waved her hands. “Don’t! No, it’s—it’s fine. Go ahead. Don’t mind me.” 

He regarded her curiously, lips pressed together in a frown. “You sure? ‘Cos I can wait until we’re done—”

“Don’t,” she insisted. “I, uh… I like the smell…” Already, she could detect the sweet, almost chocolatey notes of the cigar, and he hadn’t even taken a puff yet. It made her mouth water. 

Hesitantly, but without breaking eye contact, Price placed the cigar between his lips, and drew in a mouthful of smoke. Pip forced herself to look away, not wanting to ogle any more than she already had. When he expelled the smoke into the air between them, Pip felt a shiver race up her spine and across her skin. She breathed in deep as the white wisps curled around her, her lips parted slightly to take in the full flavor. 

It tasted rich, sweet, and very much like John Price. 

Keep it together, Pip, fuck’s sake!  

She cleared her throat, tried to clear her head, and sent the last file over to Price’s computer. “Okay, so—if you’ll check what I sent you, the first packet is all the highlights of what I’ve found. The second one is the specifics I’ve compiled—stuff you’ve asked me to look for, and stuff I thought seemed relevant or helpful…” 

Gods help her. She was a fucking mess.

[fangirleaconmigo]

You’ve probably gotten tons of asks about it already but are you going to make posts talking about the new season now or wait till part 2 comes out?

Hello dear! I tend to think and mull for a long time because my brain is slow.

If anyone wants my preliminary thoughts that are subject to change after seeing the rest of the season, here’s a few things:

SEASON THREE SPOILERS

Canon bi/pan bard is fantastic so far. It feels very natural, the emotions, the chemistry is there, very special and particular connections, etc.

Joey said he had a lot of input and it shows, because it does feel personal. I love it. Anyone who listened to my Whiskey with Witcher podcast interview knows that I’m a big fan of that development.

He also talked up Hugh Skinner and I was like well we shall see. People always talk up their scene partners because they know them and care about them which is GREAT but that doesn’t always actually translate to the screen for the viewer.

But Hugh WAS amazing. Joey was not exaggerating his expressiveness, passion, and chemistry in the role.

Hm. Let’s see what else.

I really appreciate that they haven’t ‘dropped’ the centrality of the Yen and Tissaia relationship. I’m not a fan of the Vilgefortz Tissaia romance addition. But at least they haven’t minimized how important her other relationships are.

Tissaia and Yen is the relationship that hooked me into the witcher to begin with. It had complications and dramatic tension and I was intrigued by how it changed the two women. It is so central to me, and I'm glad it still is for the show.

Ciri: It’s a whole new Ciri. Very different from the books. It’s not worse, it’s just different. In the books she just wanted to be left in peace and wanted nothing to do with being royalty or the motherhood and reproduction that this entails.

She has like a rage moment of almost riding into Nilfgaard at one point but she comes to her senses.

But the show cast her much older and this is just a different story. It’s about leadership. She wants to be a queen. Like I said. Very very different Ciri.

I have always believed you can change things you're adapting, in fact you have to. The test is, what you change it to has to be compelling enough in its own right that people aren't sitting there bitter about what they are missing out on. And I think her internal struggle and arc has potential. We'll see how it plays out the rest of the season.

The stuff about experimenting on the girls and messing with their heads and mushing their body parts into one is obviously brand new as well. I don’t really get it so far, but we’ll see how it plays out.

I believe it's ideas adapted from Season of Storms but I've only read that book one time, so I'll have to go look again.

The plot line has potential. Again, the story in the books was about bodily autonomy and the villains were all trying to basically turn girls and women into breeding machines. The lab was discovered and was horrific in a different way.

So what they’ve done is a bit more “fantasy” and I think it is potentially a much better choice for the kind of show they’re doing. I don't think I would want to see TWN put in a bunch of extreme and graphic reproductive and sexual violence and torture. I think you have to know the kind of show you're making and have a consistent tone. So I'm open to something else, for sure. But I’ll reserve judgment until I see how they wrap it up.

I loved all of the Ciri and Yen stuff. Their conversation and scenes are great. I know for a lot of people it's sort of hollow after S2. Since I made the decision not to quit the show, I have to let that go or I'll be miserable. So, I'm blocking out and denying a lot of season two.

Season three I'm enjoying. Yes, it's camp and silly in a lot of ways. Of course it's a flatter more simplistic version of the story. But we are on season three folks. If that is offensive to people, they should have quit already. Hatewatching is bad for the soul and constant hate and hostility is bad for the fandom. If ya can't have fun with it, time to move on.

For me, I had a great time watching it. I'm actually re-watching it already. I didn't rewatch season two at all (except for the first ep) so that's a good sigh already.

How I judge the season's writing as a whole will have to happen after the second part. And I'll let you know then if you send me another ask.

What I'm looking forward to the rest of the season:

The lodge. I think Cassie Clare is a fabulous Philippa but I want to see her come into her own self. I hope that's coming.

Keira Metz's brass knuckles.

FRINGILLA. We've seen so little of her so far, but what is there has intrigued me. Where are they going with her? I hope she's a bigger part of the last three eps.

MERIHART I want Philippa x Triss so badly ghhhhhh.

Milva. I can't wait to meet Milva.

Jaskier x Radovid I hope is a satisfying arc, and I believe it will be.

Geralt and Jaskier in Brokilon oh I hope they do it justice.

WILL WE SEE THE UNICORN??

Thanks for dropping into the ol ask box hun!

[joyandeggs]

OK I REALLY HOPE THAT YOUR WRITING REQUESTS ARE OPENN

i saw ur writing with knuckle and shoot, and im fan girling so hard right now 😭😭

(tw!!) been going through a tough patch recently. if you could maybe write head canons on how they’d react if their significant other attempted suicide, i’d be forever in your debt 😔

TW: Talking about sad stuff, suic*de, intrusive and depressing thoughts

Hey! I saw this the other day, and...can I just say how thankful I am? For you checking out my writing, and for wanting to message me. Seriously, thank you so much.

I am so sorry you have been going through a tough patch lately. To be completely honest, so have I. A lot has happened to me the past year or so, and it hasn't been that great. I get too deep into my own head, overthinking everything and letting awful intrusive thoughts take me over. Depression tries to get the best of me, especially when I genuinely feel like the world would be better if I was not here. That I have no purpose in life, that my loved ones really do not love me like I do them, that nobody would ever even care about me. All of that is not true. It is not true for you, and it is not true for anyone reading this who needs to hear reassurance right now. Absolutely not. I have been doing much better than what I was for a long time now, despite the new year personally getting to me. Life for me right now is just...unfullfilling, conflicting, and stressful. Hopefully, I will get through my own rough patch. It just takes time. In the meantime, I have been sticking to making my own happiness, taking it one day at a time, and trying to stay positive. It is what it is.

I will keep you in my thoughts. ❤️‍🩹

You Are Not Alone

Knuckle

Knuckle has had his fair share of his own awful thoughts. With his unspoken past, what all he has been through growing up and making his way to become a highly ranked Beast Hunter, he has come a long way to get to where he is now.

Seeing you attempt anything leaves him wide eyed, panicking over your safety. Heartbroken, shaky, holding onto for dear life. At first, he doesn't know what to do or say, other than think of how could you possibly want to do something like that to yourself?! You are too good, too special and too important to him and to others-- But of course, he doesn't say that. He knows you, but he doesn't know what all you're going through. The best thing that he can do for you right now is, if you are comfortable with it, hold you to his chest and quietly reassure you with calming words that he can manage at the time.

"_____... Please know that I am always here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, someone to sit with when your thoughts get to be too much, tell me. I don't care if it's the middle of the night or I'm in the middle of a mission, I will answer the phone if you call! ...You probably want me to shut up, huh? Heh, I can do that. I just want you to know how much you mean to me. How much I love you. Alright?"

Shoot

Shoot knows of these feelings well, and it breaks his heart to hear and/or see someone else going through the same. He has been through so much throughout his life, the struggles of becoming a Hunter, losing his arm, becoming stronger physically and mentally...

The moment he sees them attempt something life threatening makes him act fast. Don't. One word, and he is holding onto you, your hand, your face, or hugging you to his body. At first, he is going to awkwardly stand there and hesitate what to do, but that's just because he wants to know what he can do for you. He doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything by doing something you wouldn't want (if you prefer a bit of distance compared to actual touch and closeness.) Shoot just wants what's best for you. That being said, he will softly talk to you in order to distract you from any further bad thoughts.

"I am so sorry you're going through all of this. I know how hard it is. Trust me. I...I struggle with the same thoughts. You're not alone, _____. We'll get through this together. If you ever need anything, I will always...always be here for you."

[adhdo5]

1, 2, 3, 6 for both of them?

1. if one of their friends was jumping on a bed and asked your character to join them, would they?

Both of them hard yes. Aktare Loves situations and would love to show off the new backflip meta she's invented. Rosencrantz hard "why not". He would probably eat shit immediately but he'd be fine so

2. would your character carry around a tiny bath and body works hand sanitizer? if yes, would it have a specific scent?

Rosencrantz would adore hand sanitizer for anything but he'd carry around a normal sized bottle I think and it would be unscented because he unironically likes it. His incense smells like licorice and disinfectant canonically so if you gave him actual hand sanitizer he would appreciate it. They put alcohol in a gel huh? That's crazy

Aktare however is definitely the target market for this but xe hates how hand sanitizer makes xer hands feel so while she would enthusiastically steal hand sanitizers with funny scents by the handful she wouldn't end up carrying any around

3. does your character paint their nails? do they wait for them to dry fully afterwards?

Aktare does when she gets xer hands on the material to! Xer nails grow quickly so when she's staying somewhere with access to nail polish xe can do it a lot. She is awful at waiting for them to dry though

Rosen doesn't do it on his own steam but Aktare wanted to prove xer skills so she painted his nails abt it because if anyone can sit there not using its hands for 5 hours it's Rosencrantz. It was a good day

6. what parts of your character’s voice/manner of speaking are distinct, if any?

Aktare I've actually not played at a table in a long while, and her voice I'm still kind of wrangling, but where I'm at with xer, I think the most notable thing is the range. In one man band fashion xer vocal range is quite wide (I think lower than mine– she can get down to at least a countertenor and up to a nice mezzosoprano), and while xer speaking vc is very bright and brassy, her singing or storytelling voice is much darker and fuller – it's very much a fundamentally different register like she's just making the sound differently bc xe learned that as a particular tradition. She gestures in a way that Looks very flamboyant and expressive but is also generally intentional/presentational (one of the big Gestures is lashing her tail against the floor or smth else, to get attention or punctuate a point); most of xer gestures are On Purpose as opposed to smth that just happens. She still does them when more relaxed (she finds it fun and it's not like unnatural just intentional + it helps xer get her point across) but also rocks/sways back and forth more and tenses/untenses up (actual stims). She also speaks w/ a cadence with Specific Emphases, so you can Follow her better, like a PSA with keywords bolded; this is both smth she uses/learned for storytelling and song and smth xe just uses in conversation.

Rosencrantz was always more emotionally subdued + had some degree of blunted affect, which became more pronounced after he died; it's mixed in with a dose of emotional blunting and of intentional apathy/detachment but even most of what breaks thru those gets blunted to varying degrees – this is most evident in body language (he's generally very still, gesturing very little and fidgeting not at all; all of his movements Look intentional and heavy/stiff. One of the only gestures he does for emphasis is Looking Over At You; again it's got a noticeable weight and clunk to it, almost rolling eyes or head over at you. Otherwise he tends to stare off into space, his drink, the floor, the opposite wall, etc) but also in tone. On the whole it just gives like he doesn't want to move unless he has a reason to, and he processes this as mostly "not caring enough" to vary his tone/pitch of speech, but were he to try to do so, he'd struggle with it

His speech cadence is also monotone w/ him not really pausing In sentences (at commas etc); this would make him hard to listen to/droning, but his sentences tend to be pretty short/to the point. Introduction script of "I'm Rosencrantz. I'm a cleric." is so iconic to him in particular I'd b remiss not to mention it; in general though he tends to drop words, especially subjects, except for emphasis

[roleplayfinder]

✨Good Timezone friends!✨

I’m Zephyr, I’m 18, and I’ve been having the urge to rp my Fire emblem 3 houses oc! Please be 18+!

I’m looking for characters, obviously (canon or oc, it doesn’t really matter to me!)

✍️ Content! ✍️

While you're here, I will let you know that I'm open for Doubles! I do quite a few canons and am always willing to try something new. Just ask if you have someone in mind!

I have an idea that I’ve wanted to try for a long time that i'd try to throw here.

Arranged marriage is so common these days.

*Especially* if you're from a struggling family.

Ambriels father is getting significantly more worried as the days go on about the poachers approaching their territory. Of course, the only way he could think to fix this is to marry his child off to one of the many noble families of Fodlan in exchange for protection.

Now, there were many problems with this. one was that Ambriel was incredibly independent and *despised* the idea of having decisions about their life made for them. So obviously they were *pissed* when they heard about what their father had done.

They were set to travel to their betrotheds territory within the next week... But that was fine, whatever.

The worst part was...

**They had no clue who they would be marrying**

(**TLDR**: This one looks into the idea of marrying for protection and how that could possibly effect both parties view of the other through their time with eachother)

👾**Character info!**👾

This character has two versions to them! One (the shifter one and the one id prefer to use for this for story purposes) is a little canon-bending but incredibly fun if this is your thing! If you’d prefer them to be human, I can offer that too! Just ask in the dms :))

Ambriel (they/them) is the child of the leader in a shifter pack that lives quite far into the Faerghus mountains.

They're a generally good spirited and fun person to be around. Bubbly but a little dense on some topics, they’re a must if you need a good tank and an even better friend.

They’re stubborn to a fault and jumpy at most things. They will not ask for help by any circumstances, they’d rather fail a class than ask for someone to help them.

They’re notoriously clumsy and a surprisingly picky eater. They thoroughly enjoy soft fabrics and colourful flowers. If there’s something they’re interested in, Ambriel will sink all their time into it if they can.

They have waist-length ginger hair that's shaved along the sides and back and kept long on the top. Their eyes are a bright, lively green and they can be either masc or fem presenting based on the day.

They have Bear ears sticking out of the side of their head and a tail sitting above the base of their spine, along with their shifter markings covering their body.

Reach out to me on discord! Zephyr!!#6459

[kuwdora]

fic writer questions: 7, 10

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

oh gosh, I have SO MANY worldbuilding things proud of. Let me try to pick out a few favorites from things I've actually posted this year...

Leshen Eskel in my season 2 AU: The Warden Along the Path

Eskel's body mutated enough to become so tree-like and when he drank large quantities of witcher alcohol, he got violently ill and some of his branches fell off. Because you can't really feed a tree booze, that's not the nutrients he needs! (His body chemistry will eventually adapt but it was really startling, okay!) I did so much thinking about fantasy botany that could reasonably vibe with the witcher setting. This is just the beginning. 🌳

Eskel can now see and feel magic in a new way, including things and memories from other worlds because the Leshy Queen's connection to the monolith got passed down to Eskel in his mutation.

post-canon Redania - stories we tell, memories we share, and the words we hold dear aka the story where Geralt is naked and writes poetry for Jaskier. The story includes way too much history and a lot of silly puns but I have a worldbuilding nugget that I really love:

I made a reference to an event called the Three Day Incursion where Nilfgaardian forces crossed the Redanian border (for--you guessed it--three days). Dijkstra is such a strategic thinker and looks for every opportunity to help preserve his country and his power for the long term. Even if that involves a little pain in the process. Dijkstra encouraged or incited Nilfgaard enough to cross the Redanian border so he could use the anxiety and fear of the people to his benefit. That way he could step in and be the strong, steady hand for Redania and fight back with a plan. It helped inspire confidence in the new leadership and solidified Dijkstra's power.

10. How do you decide what to write?

oh my god. A better question is "how do you decide what stories to finish?" like many writers I suffer from Too Many WIPs and not enough focus. Also I'm having a lot of anxiety problems this year so it's doubly hard to see things through. I am a theme-driven writer and I tend to gravitate towards ideas and characters where I can really chew on for awhile. The stories I start are things that I will write out 10 million thoughts and unnecessary details and spend 16 years trying to whittle things down into coherency. It helps when I have someone to help prune my ideas (even though I still struggle with keeping things digestible).

Because my writing is dense and introspective in a lot of ways, this means I gravitate towards writing character studies and relationship pieces in lieu of action plotty things and tropey one-shots. I'm trying to flex my writing muscles in the plotty and tropey ways but oh, those muscles have atrophied over the years!

Even as I type this out this all feels like a non-answer, ahaha. God, a lot of things I decide to write I because an idea makes me laugh or it makes me cry and ache, or because I'm really interested in ways I can subvert canon and fanon characterizations and tropes and still satisfy myself in some fun way or interesting way.

But yeah... it's really hard deciding where to put my energy because I am so excited about so many ideas and my current WIPs... I just love all the witcher characters so much. Also puns. I love including too many puns and wordplay. So anytime I get an idea where I can be silly about it... I'mma write it. Will I finish it? Publish it? That's... remains to be seen.

I really need to get better about sharing snippets and making sure some of it exists outside my head and google doc and not just hide in my friends' discord DMs.

Fanfic writer meme

[t00thpunch]

So I need to talk about this. It's been a whole year and I have not completed a single project. I've ended up only just getting more ideas instead and it's just been so frustrating I cannot put it into words. Gonna leave a read more to recount just how messy my brain is.

Let me recount my journey of last year.

December 2022 I found MD and I became obsessed with it. I then became inspired to try out B.lender and 3D modeling into early 2023 to hopefully help me get my creative ideas to get along faster since I've struggled with 2D art my entire life. So there I was taking baby steps by doing simple tutorials.

March arrives and suddenly I have a full time job again after being unemployed for the entire time of 2022. My brain crashed mega hard during this time and my creativeness took a massive hit that I suddenly tapered off on trying to do B.lender.

Summer comes and in July? I suddenly get this eureka moment where I realize I can write a MD fic based on my irl experiences and write a robot dissection fic that has a lot of cool science in it. And things were going so well for like 2 months UNTIL I realized that I would need to learn about robotics more lmao. This lead into me realizing that I would need to speculatively map out MDs bodies for this fic to work.

BACK TO B.LENDER AGAIN

And so I spent such a long time into fall 2023 trying to figure out DD heads. Yes just the head was taking me this long because B.lender was frustrating me with its weird mesh problems. That really burnt me out.

Somewhere along the way I was thinking to take a break from MD and just try and see if sculpting random things in B.lender would help me learn better. I make one body sculpt then I got sick for a few weeks and I couldn't concentrate on it.

In my sickness fog I got the idea for making a PMV/AMV hybrid because I thought a specific song really fit. I opened up i.Movie for the first time and learned how to code on the terminal to download the episodes. Hell I even was trying out for the first time my new tablet I bought and I was really got into testing out digital art for the PMV segments. I was practicing to draw the DD canonically then really fell into that. Unfortunately my brain is really revolting at the canon designs and wants to do its own redesigns lmao. So TLDR the PMV aspect of the project was frustrating me. But funnily enough I've solved my initial problem all the way back in early 2023 where I really wasn't feeling it for doing any digital art.

So yeah my brain keeps bouncing around too much and I'm thinking on what to do now moving forward :(