#i think someone with better editing skills should make something better

[adhd-merlin]

Tell me you wouldn't do the same for the woman you love. (x)

[spider-stark]

SWORN RIVALS

Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!Reader

Summary - Taking up sparring with your sworn rival is likely never a good idea.

Warnings - barely edited, blood, implied fighting, suggestive language but no real smut, likely ooc given that the episode hasn't even aired yet lmao

Word Count - 1.1k

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

Pain splinters throughout your hand as your knuckles collide with his jaw. He stumbles backwards—just barely managing to keep himself from falling right onto his ass. 

“You fight like a girl,” you jeer, purposefully antagonizing him. “Though I suppose that’s to be expected of a Blackwood.” 

A raspy laugh rumbles through Benjicot Blackwood’s chest—a bitter, deep sound that sets your toes curling. 

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you.” Forcing his chin high, he flashes his crimson-stained teeth in a wry grin, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He muses, “But perhaps we should put it to better use, don’t you think?” 

You cut your eyes at the bawdy implication. “You’re disgusting, Ben.” 

Another chuckle as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, inadvertently smearing blood along his bottom lip. The sight is entrancing—in a morbid sort of way. It glistens like pomegranate juice and, for a mere breath, you wonder if it would taste half as sweet. 

“C’mon!” Ben’s teasing tone slices through your thoughts, forcing some sense back into you. “Don’t act like you’ve never thought of it before,” he says, waving a hand between you both, “the two of us–” 

You don’t let him finish his sentence, cutting him off with a sharp glare. “I haven’t,” you practically snarl, taking a half-step towards him. “And you shouldn’t either,” you add, “I’d much prefer to be left out of your…" you blow out an exasperated breath, "depraved fantasies!” 

“Oh, but you are my depraved fantasies, sweetheart.” Ben’s grin widens as you groan, shaking your head at him. “You're also a liar, Bracken,” he adds, “and a shitty one, at that!” 

“You can believe whatever you want, Blackwood—but that won't make it true.” 

“Just admit it,” he continues. Swinging one foot forward, he takes a lazy step towards you—then another. “That’s why you train with me, isn’t it? ‘Cause you’re so desperate for someone to put you in your place—and none of those pansies along the Red Fork are fit for the task, are they?” 

You grit your teeth, knowing that his words aren’t entirely false. 

Training with Ben hadn’t necessarily been a purposeful decision. It was something that just sort of happened. Yet, in spite of the rivalry between your families, you’re willing to admit that you do prefer training with him over the Tully or Roote boys. 

He fought you like a true opponent—unlike the others, who felt the need to pull their punches or slow their own strikes, forever treating you like a helpless maiden rather than an equal. 

In many ways, you found Ben to be more tolerable than any other boy in the Riverlands, anyway. He was fierce and tough and undeniably skilled with both blade and fists, making him your ideal sparring partner. 

You still despise him, though—if only because that is what’s expected of you by your father, the Head of House Bracken. 

“Big talk from the boy who hasn’t gotten a single hit in today,” you smugly remind him. “Perhaps if you spent as much time training as you do thinking with your cock, you might actually stand a chance at victory, Benji.” 

Less than a foot-or-so of space separates the two of you when he finally stops, his grin souring like rotted fruit. 

“Don’t call me that,” he chides, his bottom lip jutting slightly. Your brow furrows, trying to discern if he’s pouting or if it’s simply swelling from when you hit him. “Besides,” Ben continues, “have you ever considered that maybe I’m just going easy on you?” 

You don’t buy his weak attempt at goading you—though you do entertain it, asking, “And why would you do that?” 

His shoulder lifts into a languid shrug. “Maybe I like it when you push me around,” he drawls, teasing. 

Another step and he’s towering over you, his chest mere inches from yours. His scent—a blend of leather and rich sandalwood—floods your nostrils, stirring your senses and leaving you dizzy. 

“Although,” Ben’s smirk returns, laden with his usual mischief, “I think I’d like you even more if you were on your knees-” 

A scoff rips from your throat, cutting him off with a rough swat to his chest. “Oh, go fuck yourself, Blackwood!” 

“Only if you’ll watch, Bracken,” he croons, mocking you. 

Every inch of your body is suddenly humming to life, an unrelenting blaze of rage—or was it desire?—setting your nerves alight. Before you can muster a response, a comeback, his fingers have closed around one of your wrists. 

“Go on,” Ben murmurs, his voice tantalizingly low. Your breath hitches as he presses your hand to his chest, feeling his pulse beat beneath your palm. “Hit me,” he dares, louder now. “Push me.” 

You don’t speak—don’t move, as those storm-cloud eyes dip once again. “Fucking do it—” 

You cut him off, fingers curling around the scarlet fabric of his tunic—you should kill him for being so crude, for acting so utterly lascivious! 

And yet, despite all logic and reason, you tug him closer. Pulling him down to your level in one swift motion, crashing your lips together in a kiss that is anything but soft. 

On instinct, your other hand slips to the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in soft, brown hair. You feel his heartbeat stutter beneath your fist, still gripping his tunic. For no more than a breath, you worry you’ve fucked this whole thing up. 

This is wrong! You scream at yourself. Wrong wrong wrong! 

But then he moves—hooking an arm around your waist, his nails sinking into your hip in an effort to bring you closer—and you loathe just how right this feels. 

Your legs tremble as his tongue slides along your lower lip, a soft moan spilling into his mouth. You feel him grin against you—can taste the blood on his lips, the bitter sweetness dancing on your tongue as he utters, “Eager, are we?” 

Tightening your grip on his hair, he hiss slips from his teeth. “Shut up.” 

He obliges—his mouth drifting from your lips to your jaw, leaving a bloody trail of kisses in his wake. You try not to think as he finally reaches your neck, earning a soft whine as he nips at your flesh. You try to forget who he is—that you’re supposed to hate him—as he shoves his leg between yours, offering you the very friction you so desperately desired. 

“This changes nothing, Benji,” you pant. 

He bristles at the nickname, letting his teeth sink deeper into your flesh, a deep bruise already blooming along your neck. “Sure." His own breathing is frantic and uneven as he rasps, “Whatever you say..” 

Your hand falls from his chest to his breeches, fingers already fumbling with the laces when you choke out, “I still think you’re disgusting, Blackwood.”

His own touch disappears beneath your tunic, fingertips trailing along every inch of your skin until his palms finally skim along your bare breasts. He gives one a rough squeeze before flashing that stupid, bloody grin of his. 

“And you’re still a liar, Bracken.”

a/n - writing fan fic for a character that hasn't even appeared on screen yet is wild. (hbo, this better be bloody ben or else I'll riot because this is perfect casting). anyway, I don't wanna be held accountable for how terrible, short, and rushed this is (I was bored and didn't feel like putting more effort into this than necessary rn) OR how wildly ooc this will likely prove to be come Sunday.

also---turns out that writing without actually knowing the character is hard! who'd have thunk, am I right?

[pepstarvanmoon]

Someone please get El out of there

Is it not obvious what this is? Do you really not know what you should be doing? SAY THE DAMN WORDS.

Why do you think she’s doubting you? Can you really not tell?

Mike, sweetheart, your relationship balancing skills are a terror to your friends, family, and romantic partners.

This is why people found Midleven cuter in S1/2, because the day you made it official marked the beginning of El’s doubts in your feelings for her.

You cannot seem to grasp that El is your friend AND your girlfriend, and somehow treating El like a girlfriend equates to treating her like shit.

You cannot make this up. El needs WORDS because Mike’s ACTIONS actively make her feel unloved. She does not feel it, so she wants some kind of verbal/written affirmation because of how emotionally distant Mike feels.

(someone talented please edit Elmike to Hamilton’s Burn or send an existing edit my way, thank you ♡)

His actions do not align to her expectations of love, not that it’s a good idea to let TV define romance for you, but you’re allowed to want/expect certain things in a relationship, and El isn’t getting that.

And let’s not act like Mike isn’t good at making people feel loved/cared for. Will is in love with him for a reason. El loves him for a reason.

(It was difficult to pick scenes for this because I’ve read arguments for how these aren’t really romantic at all, but from 12/13-year old, “fresh out the lab” Eleven, it’s as romantic as romance gets imo)

El has been trying to convince herself that their relationship is better than it is, because once she admits to herself that it’s not working, what does she do?

Her day-to-day life isn’t that great. Sure, she has her new family in the Byers, but her dad recently passed away and she’s being bullied at school. She has no friends outside of Will, and while I’m sure their relationship is great (wasn’t explored that much tbh), he can’t keep her from feeling isolated, and his own trauma with bullying keeps him from standing up for her.

One good, unchanging thing she has is her relationship with Mike. He’s the one who took her in and housed her, he taught her what it meant to be a friend, and… I’m having a bit of trouble here lol. I was going to say:

Never used her for her powers (not true lol)

When she was burnt out, he never expected more from her (not true LOL)

Never treated her differently for her powers (for this one, he found her awesome in an awestruck way rather than a Brenner “I’m gonna exploit this” way, but when he thought she lied about Will/hurt Lucas he was on her ass lmao)

My girl has those ‘first love’ blinders on. I keep having to ask myself what she sees in him besides ‘first person to accept me + we kissed’ like besides the latter, Dustin was right there. A lot of the parts of Mike I enjoy don’t reveal themselves around El outside S1 (barely S2). He’s shown as caring and protective, but he’s like that for all of his friends?? Especially when they’re in danger so idk what’s different. I’d have to peruse the milkvan tag to get a hint, but I’ll probably get a better idea watching Sleeping Beauty.

I’m a firm believer that Mike kept it ambiguous because he didn’t want to admit what the real problem was to Will.

“I couldn’t tell El that I love her.” - simple as that. Must be something about Will that has him holding his tongue because after S3 I doubt he’d have that much trouble telling Lucas.

Are you embarrassed? If you thought it wasn’t that serious you wouldn’t have told Will that it was something you “can’t come back from”. Is love serious to you, Mike? Because you can’t love El in the way she wants, do you think you’re incapable of it? Do you feel wrong? Do you not want Will to know?

Hit a little too close to home, huh.

(and let’s not get into the "team, friends, best friends" scene they had together like what was the point in having them make contact a SECOND time.

They already established a connection between them. Mike could’ve asked to be a team after the "guess it's gonna be up to us again," and Will could’ve taken the painting offscreen (the focus shot of Will grabbing the painting gets me so bad like WHY), but instead they wanted them to blush and giggle over each other AGAIN before they got to the van.

Make it make non-Byler sense I'm begging.)

You’d think that’d be good enough, but Mike still feels conflicted and has to make it Will’s problem (actually, Will kinda made it his problem. The way they shot the triple take makes it seem like Will dragged Mike away for another talk because of how spacey he was being. Who knows.)

Tf do you mean you didn’t know what to say? “Maybe if I said that thing” so you DO know? It’s painfully cut and dry if you take emotions out of it. El wants Mike to say that he loves her, so to fix this, to come back from that fight, Mike has to say he loves her.

Why is it such an internal battle for him? If I were to take it at face value, I’d chalk it up to what he said in the van scene.

So your solution is to push your relationship to a point that has El crying and throwing all the loveless letters you sent to the floor? To tell her that she’s incredible and a superhero and that she should know how you feel about her because, despite the tears streaming down her face and her DIRECTLY asking you if you still love her, she must know how amazing she is too?

NEWSFLASH, Queerler! She’s learning just how much she doesn’t need you right now, so I guess it’s time to face your fears!

This isn’t what I meant, but go off ig (don’t, actually, this is awful for everyone involved).

No way you expect El to buy this. You’ve expressed this fear of "losing El" to Will, I’ll give you that, but nothing you’ve done IN FRONT OF EL has conveyed this. Your letters weren’t helping, and you being there in person only made it worse.

Eagerly awaiting the day Michael Wheeler stops lying.

Well, I guess he doesn’t lie ALL the time.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

Hey, so I remembered in one of your earlier post you said something along the lines of souls women only really falling into the helpless victim or serious sword lady trop. And how Ema was a great subversion of it, I was wondering if you had any thoughts on

I’m making a souls-like and trying to avoid the pitfalls where I can

Btw, I love your art so much I would love to support you but I am broke

sorry i let this reply marinate in the docs for months (along with a lot of other replies like im having a catalogue of Fromsoft replies that read like thesis at this point *crying* my job is not letting me sit down and edit them) but here it is.

firstly, thank you for your message, kind encouragement already means a lot to me, so don’t worry about not being able to support me or anything ! After all I’m not putting out any new books or fan merch haha.

Here is a whole rant about Ema but somehow my grievances with how they handle Malenia's story in comparison to Messmer also pops up.

Regarding your question about Ema, I love her because of how complete her story feels and how her personal motivation and personality are written as coherently as the male characters.

She’s a war orphan who did her best to survive, learned the sword from the best swordman but with the only purpose is to kill demons. Ema saw firsthand how violence and meaningless killing did to people, so her aim can be seen as trying to offer those lost souls a mercy death, so they don’t have to suffer as a mindless demon for eternity (as in shura ending).

Yet, she's actually more interested in being a doctor & saving life and it’s not something expected of her because she’s a woman or whatnot, she chose that.

(+ she's skilled enough with the blade that it shows in her mannerism to the point Wolf, who had never seen her hold a sword, knows that she's good with one).

she was ready to kill Scuptor - someone akin to a parental figure to her, should he succumb to grief and hatred. because she loved him. not to mention she saw Tomoe - someone in a way is also her mentor, tried to take her own life, while her childhood friend Gennichiro slowly went apeshit. like that girl witnessed so many insane stuffs & they spur her to be strong & steadfast in her ideal to protect her loved ones, even when it means to lay them to rest by her own hands.

her dialogue in Shura ending "maybe i should have killed you long ago" feels like being punched in the guts to me, because she knew Wolf turning out that way meant that somewhere along the way, all of them had failed him, had ignored the signs that all the killings he was tasked to carry out was taking a toll on him. And so she took upon herself the responsibility to offer him a mercy death, even as it broke her heart.

It’s the passionate drive and decisions made as her own person, not out of blind devotion to another character, and how much we know of that because the game let us find more about her, that makes her stands out from the epic sword lady category, while the violence and steely resolve she was capable of makes her stands out from the helpless maiden one.

-kinda lose the plot here with Elden Ring rant jumping out-

This is one of the main points I have about the difference between Messmer and Malenia, how even though their stories parallel each other, I think Messmer has the better writing and gets a more complete story. He’s super devote to Marika, but in his own way, not what Marika wants of him. Evidently with how he still fights the Tarnished because he deems us unworthy, despite knowing Marika sanctioned us for Lordship.

We see a lot of sides to him outside of just a filial son, his rage and sorrow and love and a moment of stubborn selfishness that results in him willingly become a curse that clings to Marika than to let go. We see his relationship with other characters and even though his love for Marika outweighs all else, it doesn’t negate completely others that exist outside of it.

And precisely because of that, it’s more heartbreaking to see despite all these connections he has with other people, he yearns to be reunited with his Mother above all else. That kind of devotion is more hard hitting to me than the writing for the Empyrean twins.

Like, Malenia…. outside of Finnlay (whose description says more about herself than shedding any new light on Malenia) and the mentor that we actually don’t even know much about yet, what are other personal connection she has outside of Miq? I could argue the Marika’s Soreseal in the Haligtree was meant for her and that she still loved her Mother in some kind of way all I want, but at the end of the day that’s a headcahon I have to theorize from item placement, and not many ppl will notice that. We don’t know for sure what Malenia thinks of anyone else but her twin and it drives me up the wall.

Another comparison I want to bring up is DS2 Lucatiel.

I fr think even Lucatiel gets a better story arc than Malenia, despite also largely being shaped by her relationship with her brother.

Loss frightens me no end. Loss of memory, loss of self. If I were told that by killing you, I would be freed of this curse… Then I would draw my sword without hesitation. I don't want to die, I want to exist. I would sacrifice anything, anything at all for this. It shames me, but it is the truth. Sometimes, I feel obsessed��� with this insignificant thing called "self". But even so, I am compelled to preserve it. Am I wrong to feel so? Surely you'd do the same, in my shoes?

She is trying to find her brother, but at the same time wrestling with her own troubles and limitations. We get to know a lot of her own motivation and her fear. I mean one could argue that it's because she's an NPC while Malenia is a boss, but the same thing could also be said for Messmer like I explained above.

-back to Ema-

As the extra sauce, I love that Ema boss music has such layers to it. the theme of her - someone clinging to her humanity to the very end because she has ppl love & support her, also acts as an elegy for Wolf's lost of humanity, of him not being able to escape the abuse trauma he grew up in. its opening instrument also appears in Demon of Hatred's OST. Her presence and theme affects other characters’ life, and we get to see her marks on a personal level in the story’s overarching narrative.

Which is the same as how Marika’s presence is everywhere in the Elden Ring OST, that little soft piano. A little in Radagon’s theme, in Shaman’s Village, in the final DLC boss ost where the female vocals starts belting out “Hail, Marika the Eternal”, in a boss arena where she had walked through to scavenge the remains of her fallen family and ascended to an existence she knew would kill her all the same, but she would do it again every single time. Walking down that hell with her eyes wide open.

When a character that could get me to write paragraphs about like that… man you know how much the writing cooks.

[batsplat]

top 5 misconceptions ppl have about casey hehe

lol. well. this kind of question is always a bit tricky because tbh I don't really have my finger on the pulse of what people are saying about casey. also often it's less 'misconceptions' and more 'crucial contextual information people aren't particularly interested about', which isn't really in the scope of the question. AND it's hard to draw the line between what I would consider my Takes and what is like. actual established fact. but sure. here's some stuff

honesty: you know the kind of talk - he's a straight shooter, he says what he really thinks, he doesn't hold back. he hates the media and thus he doesn't have any media game.... one of these things is true, the other one is very obviously not true. casey's become pretty excellent in striking the balance between coming across as authentic + expressing a decent share of his earnestly held opinions but ALSO pursuing his agendas and making active informed decisions about what narratives to pursue. he's really good at it!! it allows him to be effectively outspoken about stuff he genuinely cares about! but obviously that's something that should be kept in mind when assessing what he's saying he's always been an underrated communicator - journalists are pretty consistent in telling us how, even though he obviously didn't like a lot of his pr obligations, he's good at articulating his opinions and explaining how the sport works. he has EXPLICITLY talked about learning from valentino on the media front, which!! if he's telling you that he's taken a class in media manipulation skills from mr media manipulator himself, I think that's worth paying attention to?? he's talked about getting better at sucking up to journalists. he learned how to choose his moments. he also obviously sometimes played the pr game.... it's fair to say his apology to valentino at brno 2008 was not heartfelt, but he still did that and mostly sat on that grudge for TWO YEARS until the relationship properly started deteriorating. he said he had no problem with ducati when he came back from his illness break in 2009 and had no problem with them pursuing jorge, was very firm on this and essentially portrayed it as dumb rumours. which is something he has later repeatedly explicitly contradicted he lies! he has his agendas! you have to read between the lines with a lot of what he's saying! his autobiography is very unreliably narrated! his version of events is often HEAVILY edited, where some quite key details will never be brought up again (sometimes they'd even help make his point, but (imo) make him feel worse about himself, which is extra interesting) and certain details repeated ad nauseam so they'll stick in the public consciousness. he's good at this!! and his *reputation* for being honest and always speaking his mind is super useful for this. if everyone believes you always say what you really think, even when in the past it's been to your detriment, and you keep telling everyone you'll say what you really think because you don't want to play these media games and just want to be honest then... eventually maybe everyone will believe you're more honest than you are

justified in his grudges/grievances: as someone who is pretty confident that I hold the dubious honour of having written the most words about casey stoner on this website, this may be an odd complaint but. he's not always right. I find the 'hater' thing so grating because it's so glaringly one-dimensional and erases his ability to be genuinely unpleasant to people it'd be quite hard to frame as deserving targets. this is less 'misconception' but more in the general category of 'stuff that annoys me', but it's quite obvious when people mostly just use him as agenda fuel without being particularly interested in casey himself. and the thing is, right, he had a lot of Legitimate Grievances, but also he had some things that just... were not. he could be pretty patronising and had a temper that must have been a bit exhausting to work with until he got himself under control, he could be tactless to the point of being quite cruel. also, man, he really has got his conspiratorial leanings. a bit too ready to attribute malice when incompetence is perhaps a more reasonable explanation, very much on the look out for bias, deeply suspicious. at times paranoid. his european thing is objectively A Bit Silly, like I get how this happened but it's also not exactly the height of rationality. as a bonus, he seems to be at least a little prone to going completely cold towards others (not unlike a certain rival of his) and will stick to his grudges,, even if they're not particularly well-founded

relationships with non-valentino aliens: this is a bit of an umbrella one, but they're all kinda defanged. I don't think it's crazy to suggest casey experienced a fair bit of resentment towards all these guys. you don't really need to read between the lines too much to conclude that casey didn't like how much more highly rated dani was than him (stresses how it was ultimately to his advantage that he had a worse bike/team in 2005 because he learned how to deal with adversity or whatever; his 2006 tantrum after losing out to dani; the condescending tone he has slipped into at times). the jorge relationship, there's just a massive knowledge gap I reckon - casey really didn't like jorge at the start of 2008 and was quite ugly about it tbh. even if the story about him saying that jorge was faking needing a wheelchair after breaking his ankles isn't true (which personally I do kinda buy). and like... he just does not give a shit about marc. athletes are an egocentric bunch, this was after his time, it's just not his fight. obviously his own later rhetoric about all three of these guys is partly to blame but like,, he has an agenda here!! he wants to emphasise the contrast with valentino!! and all power to him, but, man you have to keep this in mind

blanket valentino rivalry item: listen. I think everybody can interpret information in different ways. and I think when you are a fan of something you should be able to have fun with it however you please. but I also think some interpretations are very wrong and I try not to perceive them. it's a rivalry that exists in public discourse in a really unhappy place where the most infamous moments are super well known but the actual details are super not well known. both laguna 2008 and jerez 2011 are infinitely more interesting if you familiarise yourself with a couple hundred key contextual facts and relevant quotes, I promise you. man... so much stuff you could get into here... let's not. in general, I think it's worth considering that casey really really really really hates admitting to weakness and is maybe motivated to de-emphasising how much he cares or has ever cared about valentino + how valentino has behaved towards him. it's also worth considering whether he might not be motivated to make it sound like mind games were a failure for valentino in that rivalry, backfired on him etc, and whether that really chimes with the actual. factual record

consistency of principles: he's a hypocrite!! for all his perfectionism and tendency to self-flagellate, he does hold others to standards he's not always willing to follow himself. the obvious thing is the 'ooh boy if somebody said this about YOU, you would pray on their downfall until the day you died' principle - and, look, obviously he would argue that when HE gets slandered people are wrong and when he's DOING the slandering, he's right. but. come on. also, mr respectful riding having two incidents of physically lashing out at another rider while they're on the bikes is... it's a bit much. perhaps the most interesting one is the health thing - for completely understandable reasons, he's hyper sensitive to how other people discuss his health, but it comes with a tendency to... be kinda weird about some of his rivals' injuries. either by downplaying them, suggesting they're not really a thing at all, or by exhibiting what skews dangerously close to schadenfreude. idk the misconception here is just... having him be straightforwardly principled.... like he's not, he's self-centred enough he does sometimes struggle to like. consider stuff outside of his bubble. and... well. sometimes he's a hypocrite

anyway. those were just the first five things I thought of. obviously these are all of a general theme... I basically think people make him way too boring. one-dimensional reliable character witness whose two character traits are 'neurotic' and 'hater'. if you talk about him like that, then at the end of the day you're probably not really that interested in him lol. which is fine! but. well. idk man. personally I do think he's more interesting than that

[ancha-aus]

I finished two more chapters of the Real Age editing!! We euh...

Don't talk about how one chapter went from 3600 to 4000... and one went from 3500 to... euh... 7300...

INSTEAD!

Have a sneakpeak!! Of the rewrite! :D

This is from the drabble: Parentalbond Dust.

*-----------------*

Dust watches as some dude bro guy walks through the forest, shouting about how he isn’t scared and to come get him. That he can defeat that creep with his tricks.

“… Why?”

Dust almost didn’t hear the question. Nightmare spoke quietly and just barely above a whisper. When Dust glances at him Nightmare is only just barely looking at him from the corner of his own wide sockets, eye lights big but shaking a tiny bit.

Anxiety? Fear? That are usually things that cause that kind of reaction from the magic that makes up their eyes. People aren’t joking when they say the eyes are the windows to the soul. For most monsters it is very much fact as magic affects their eyes and that comes from the soul.

Dust makes sure to break eye contact by turning towards the phone. He paused the movie as soon as he realised a question had been asked. He turns back slightly towards Nightmare and sees he is a bit more, not relaxed but calm. Mh. Doesn’t like the focus on him? Dust does remember that even as adult Nightmare much preferred to work from the shadows or the backlines.

Dust shrugs “Why the guy is screaming and making himself an obvious target? I don’t know exactly, it is either bad writing or a show that this guy is too confident in himself or just too stupid to realise what will happen to him.”

Nightmare frowns as he looks away “No. I mean… Why… this?”

Dust frowns. He isn’t exactly sure what about the situation he is asking about. He glances at his phone “I mean. I was bored. I figured a movie and some food would be nice…” as a distraction. As a way to pass time. To make sure that Nightmare has energy and food in him. It just… made sense.

Nightmare looks more frustrated for a moment. Glaring at his hands which formed into fists. Shoulders tense as he obviously searches for the right words.

Dust thinks it is very strange. He is so used to Nightmare being well spoken and always aware of what he feels and in turn wants. Nightmare now… just isn’t like this. He is struggling to put his thoughts into words. He is more expressive and the emotions shift easier from one to the other. There is less control, less refined skills.

He is acting like a child would.

…

He is a child… and struggling with the problems and limits that brings him.

Dust can almost feel the shift that follows that thought.

It happened in a second as Nightmare sighs and just looks down as he is mostly lax “Okay.”.

Dust frowns. That is wrong. That isn’t Nightmare accepting something. No, that is the sound of someone who resigns himself to something. Nightmare doesn’t do that. Nightmare keeps asking, Nightmare keeps looking. He wants to know everything and more importantly understand everything. After all of them told their stories he didn’t just accept those as fact. He would keep asking. Asking about details about their thoughts. Everything.

Dust frowns as he remembers the anxiety of before. If he keeps Nightmare’s past in his mind it makes sense. It isn’t like he would be used to having adults listen to him, and when they did Nightmare was an adult. Maybe he needs to prod himself instead?

Dust is so bad at this. Killer should have stayed here, he is much better at this whole conversation thing. Still Dust mutters his question “No. What why?” is that enough? Does that explain what he wants?

Nightmare tugs on his own phalanges. Tugging on the small bones and Dust can hear a soft creaking sound coming from it. Dust is already reaching towards those hands and Nightmare flinches at it.

Neither of them move as Nightmare looks much more panicked as his breathing picked up.

He is… terrified… He is actually terrified.

How… how does he fix this?

A loud laughter “Fix this?! You can’t fix this! Nothing you can do can fix this! These are the consequences of your actions dear brother. You forced a traumatised child to experience more trauma, more abandonment and then took his choices from him. Forcing him to remain by those who clearly don’t care. There is no fixing this. And you deserve to be aware of this.”

No. No he… He can… fix this? Maybe Horror can? Horror is a good brother. Horror could explain and reassure him… Killer knows Nightmare better than any of them. Killer could maybe say something to connect with him. Or Cross!! Cross is trustworthy and a true protector. Maybe Cross can make him feel save.

Dust… Dust can’t do that. Any of it.

Nightmare is still shaking as he stares at him. Frozen. He always froze when he encountered something he didn’t know the answer to. They thought it was to think… Was it to think?

Dust realises he still has his hand out. With some difficulty he slowly pulls it back. Nightmare watches the hand silently. Nothing moves aside from his eye lights, which are only looking at the hand. Dust manages to bring his hand back to the phone and holds unto it, afterwards he just waits.

*----------*

It was a large sneak peak!! :D

[randy-inks-writing-blog]

Lonely (Lucifer x Hellborn! GN Reader)

—————————————

Just some fluff with sad boi Lucifer for fun. Tell me what you think and what I can improve on!

Edit: You can read the fanfic on Ao3

—————————————

Succubuses and incubuses are known for their sexual activities. You, however, choose a distinct career path. Instead, you use your skills to comfort people. Give them a little massage, or a talk too. Many people are surprised to find lots of sinners have parent issues. On rare occasions, customers just want to pretend that their partner is still with them. Your coworker walked up to you with a smug smile. She stops at your desk and says “Guess who just asked for your services, (y/n)” you till your head, surely must be someone important if she’s bothering you. “Who?” you ask softly. The coworker smiles wide and answers; “the king of hell, himself!” Shocked at what your coworker says, you stood up and said “Lucifer Morningstar? Do you know what he wants? Oh, dear Satan, I gotta look good for him!” Your coworker grabs your shoulders and holds you still. “(y/n) chill, he just wants someone to talk to. Just wear something comfy, your appointment is at 3 tomorrow, ok?” You nod your head. That’s enough time to calm your nerves, hopefully.

You walk up to the doors of Lucifer’s manor, quietly you knock on the door. A small old imp opens the door for you. He bows his head and tells you to follow him to Lucifer’s room. As the two of you walked, you looked at all the portraits of Lucifer’s family. Most of them were of the missing queen and their daughter, Charlie Morningstar. The butler stops right in front of Lucifer’s room. You stop right next to the imp as he knocks on Lucifer’s door. “Sire, your guest is here.” You heard a response but could barely make any words out. The butler opens the door for you, and you slowly walked in. The room is positively a mess, rubber ducks everywhere as far as you can see. You walked over to the king’s bed and gave a small bow to him. Looking at the fallen angel’s face, he like his room looks like a mess. Small tears fall down the king’s face, looks like he’s been crying for days. You sat next to the king, being mindful of your wings and tail. Lightly, you place a hand on the king’s check and softly rub it. With caution, you spoke to the king; “Your highness, is there anything specific you need?” the crying angel answers back “call me Lucifer please. And no, I just- I just need someone to hold me like Lilith once did.”

Well, that’s a bit awkward. How long has the queen been gone for again? Seven years, who knew the king of all of hell was just a lonely guy? Hey, you’re not going to judge you’re the one who took this job. You laid down next to the king and pulled him closer to you. Lucifer’s head laid right on your chest as you wrap your wings around the king. The king cried into your chest. Good thing this is a gender non-specific fanfic. “I miss my wife; I miss her a lot. Why? Why did she have to leave me? Was I not good enough?” he sobs, making the situation more awkward for you. You ran a hand through his blonde hair with a smile before you whispered. “I think you’re good enough, Lucifer. Maybe you should stop thinking about the past and think about your future.” Lucifer looks up at you with hopeful eyes quietly he ask, “Like my daughter?” You nod your head yes, but Lucifer just looks away from you. “If only it was that easy. All I can think about is the past. I’m the one of the doom of all of humanity. I’m the one who convinces Eve to eat that fruit.” You cup Lucifer’s face and make him look at you again. “While that is true, you also help make hell, and without hell there wouldn’t be imps, hellhounds, succubuses and incubuses. And those loan sharks that have those weird Italian accents yet don’t know a single word from that language.” Lucifer listens to your talk, feeling a little better. The king nuzzles into your chest once again, finding your body heat comforting. You snuggle closer to the king; this is something you’re going to brag about to your coworker. “I guess you’re right, in a way. Thank you for doing this for me. I’ll double your tip when this is over.” Lucifer softy spoke, now feeling a little sleepy. You nod your head and lightly pet Lucifer’s hair.

—————————————

[itsabouttimex2]

Platonic Noodlefam Headcanons

(Pigsy is best dad, I’ll be the first to say)

Growing up with these three is wildly chaotic. MK’s boundless energy, Tang’s noodle shenanigans and Pigsy’s hair-trigger temper has definitely left an impact on you.

Probably, you’re some kid that Tang finds god knows where, and he thinks: “If Pigsy can raise a kid, I can too.”

And he’s not entirely wrong, because you do find yourself slowly assimilating into this strange little family. To even out this wacky high-energy trio, you quickly mature and become somewhat stoic, providing a steady rock for the others.

However, if you’re younger than MK, you’ll definitely provide him with another insecurity to overcome. Having someone who is younger than him be more mature and sometimes far more helpful can be incredibly demoralizing. Still, he’s a protective presence in your life, always stepping up to shield you from danger. Anyone who dares to lay a hand on you will; in short order, find themselves face down in the dirt.

If you’re older, he instead looks up to you as a stable and competent source of support. He cares for Pigsy and Tang, really, he does. But Tang can be petty and is somewhat dramatic, and Pigsy, though reliable, can be grumpy and blunt. You provide a constant in MK’s life, someone he can turn to and ask for advice without too much judgment.

Either way, expect to cover more than a few shifts while he’s out saving the city/world.

For Tang, you’re a motivator to be better, because he can’t let a child take his place as “the smart one”, though he eventually realizes that being mature doesn’t mean that you’re as well-learned as he is. In fact, forcing yourself to be mature and reliable all the time without any breaks is clearly grinding you away bit by bit. On your particularly rough days, he’ll take you aside and have you sit down with him for a while. He’ll read you some of the lighter stories from Journey to the West, giving you a much-needed moment to recharge.

For Pigsy, you’re another troublesome child. Refusing to take breaks or reject requests for help, you run yourself dry to lend a hand to others. I personally think a lot of people overlook just how genuinely capable and successful Pigsy is in canon. Raised a kid by himself while running a popular noodle shop, also by himself. He’s clearly very skilled and dedicated.

And experienced, too. You think he doesn’t know that you’re worn out, kid? That you haven’t slept in four days? Nice try. He’ll put a hand on your back and guide you to your room, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed until you finally lay down and pass out.

Spending time with Tang and MK together almost always results in you and your brother sitting side by side as Tang recites tales of the Monkey King’s journeys. MK usually has his head on your lap or shoulder, but he never falls asleep. He just sits there, fervently taking in each and every word. Also, expect to try lots of new food with them. Pigsy puts something new on the menu? You all are trying it together. A new food stall opens? The three of you are first in line. A limited edition drink comes out? Your little triad will be testing it day one.

MK and Pigsy are pretty much opposites, one grounded and down-to-earth, the other energetic and reckless. However, they clearly care for each other greatly, and make for a good team whenever they join forces. Probably you work at the noodle shop with the two of them, giving them plenty of opportunity to look out for you. MK will physically push himself between you and any unruly customers, ready to square off, but Pigsy is quick to grab said customers and throw them outside.

Pigsy and Tang obviously serve as the parental figures in this little quartet, but one is a lot better at it than the other. Tang will probably feel more like a cool uncle that comes to visit on holidays, but you’ve accidentally called Pigsy “dad” more than a few times. You should expect for any potential suitors to be warded away without hesitation. Tang will cry out about his ‘weak ankles’ and then “accidentally” trip and spill his noodles on whoever is bothering you. Pigsy will straight up launch a wooden spoon directly into the face of anyone who dares to hit on you while you’re working.

Altogether, you’re a surprisingly functional family unit that’s far from nuclear, but your differences only serve to bring you closer together.

Essentially:

[rowanwritestoomuch]

A Lesson on ConCrit -- how to give & recieve

Criticism is often something we all abhor, but in our artwork of writing, we need to understand how to recieve information about editting and how to give it, because we will not succeed without it.

There is no world in which writing is not a collaborative effort-- unless you never share it, in which case, this post is not for you. Keep on doing what you're doing you funky fresh individual. But for the rest of us with a praise kink, this is an ineffeible truth.

So how do we give *constructive* criticism in writing?

We remain focused on improvement.

Never give criticism to harm, never with malicious intent, never to degrade or belittle. Never. Do. This. If you did not like a work but it has skillful merit, it uses grammar properly, it has structure and themeology, it is OKAY to simply accept 'I did not like this' and move on. But if you have something useful to say, something productive for the writer, something genuinely meant in kindness and to improve, it is important to always keep in mind the 'when this, then that' method.

For example; "When [X character] confessed to his lover, it was the cutest thing I've ever seen, but then [Y character] had very little reaction, and it took me out of the scenes where their greater romance was developed. I would suggest when [Y character] is confronted with this information, perhaps we should include some more emotional beats and actions, like describing their expressions or what they think, to make sure the reader stays engaged. Thank you for posting this, I'm enjoying it!" In this bit of criticism, we have kept a constructive approach in mind. We have addressed that 'when this' happened, it made us feel good, but when we found something we thought needed improvement, 'then that' was discussed. We engaged with the artist in a way that did not degrade them but also did not demand that they take our advice, by framing our suggestions in a way that remembers inherent storytelling aspects, like emotions and actions, and we gave positive but not specific suggestions on how to improve those actions, without injecting our own bias into the artist's work.

This is the meat of constructive criticism. We do not want to put each other down. We do not want to taint another's art with our own voice. We want to focus on improvement and respect someone's vulnerability in sharing their work.

Another example; "I noticed that in this scene, I got really lost when [X & Y] were talking because you used a lot of pronouns and not very many proper nouns. In Chapter 3, you had a scene with [X, Y, Z & Q] and it was really engaging for me, I didn't mind the use of proper nouns because I was able to easily keep track of who was talking when. I think it would help both of us follow along better when the characters' names are used more. Really great work, I'm loving the banter between the two." In this example, we point out an error in the execution of the work, a literary thing such as forgotten proper nouns that pull the reader from the scene. In order to encourage the writer, we made sure to include an example of when they did well to remind them how they did well and encouraged them to improve this scene in the same manner as the previously well executed one. We remembered to let them know that we did enjoy the scene, we just got a little lost, and we collaborated with them on how it would help us, the reader, and them, the writer, follow along better. This same kind of concrit can be used for any literary skill mistake, or instead you could simply say "Would you like some help editting your work?" and collaborate with the artist even further. Grammar errors, spelling mistakes, structure issues, use of words and nouns, you can help with those things without placing any blame or anxiety on the writer, and many would love to have several hands edit their work before they do their final drafting. It is important to remember always that our engagement with an artist is a sensitive subject, and we will not gain more art from this person (content, if you will) if we continuosly demand, degrade, disgrace and disregard the feelings of the creators. Respect has to be given and recieved like a gift, and the gift in our metaphor is writing.

Things that you should not comment on; characters you just didn't like--- you can just not like something, the artist doesn't have to change it for you to enjoy, move on. Plot directions or twists that just weren't your flavor--- not every piece has to fit into your ideal of a trope. Only speak on these things when the plot is completely contrived or needs re-structuring to really hit the point it's trying to make. If you just didn't like where the story went, well, it's not for you. It doesn't mean its bad. Understand how to have a discerning eye for the difference between execution and expression. Stylistic choices that just don't hit with you, like purposefully lowercased words, the changing or reformatting of words into new ones, different dialogue types and tags--- these are things the author did on purpose. You do not tell a painter you did not like the use of orange in their sunflower painting, you just move on. That was a choice, not a mistake or a lesson that needs to be learned, and not everyone has to use words the way you do. Focus on being helpful, not being biased. Art is subjective and exists both in the eyes of the artist and the viewer, it is not supposed to be monotypical. To give criticism, one must also be able to recieve it.

It can be hard for someone to comment on our work with something that suggests we made a mis-step. We must always consider what it is that we have to glean from this new information when it strikes us anxious, instead of becoming mired in our own ego. If a reader has something to say about the improvement of your work, it is not a law, they will not abandon you if you do not heed them, and if they do, another one will most likely enjoy the place you decided to remain. Criticism is a very 'take it or leave it or do something with it'. You can hear the reader out when they say that the interactions between characters fell flat for them, but if it was your intention to display the character as apathetic, uninterested, uninvested, distracted or depressed, maybe then the reader just did not pick up what you were putting down. You could change your work because of this, or you could leave it the same and the next reader, or the many silent readers aside, will most likely feel differently. When someone has a suggestion on the changing of grammar, consider--- is it hard to read? I should probably change this, I'm *glad* they pointed it out. We sometimes write with blinders on, it is not an insult for someone to turn our head and make us look in another direction. It is not an insult for someone to suggest we need improvement, especially when they give examples as to how to help. It is not an insult to share our work and accept that not everyone will like it, and that we can take their advice both with grace and with self-respect. Listen to your readers, listen to your heart, and collaborate with the two.

And always, always remember, write because it hurts if you don't.

[featherwingfox]

This is a redesign of a Minecraft show I used to watch a long time ago called the Steve Saga by FavreMySabre. This is for my fan rewrite. I love the original story all the same, I'm merely rewriting it with the purpose of filling in the plot holes and fixing some problems the OG story had as I think I can find ways to do so. It was fun watching him just wing it as his reactions were more immersed but now I hope that this story can be fleshed out and polished. I welcome fellow fans and possibly new ones to The Steve Saga Fans Rewrite! Or maybe SS FR for short? So far this is what I'm calling it, if someone has some ideas for a better one please feel free to name it, if not, this is the name. On the interesting stuff now that I'm done with explaining myself!

This is Sabre. The creator of the story and the main character. In honor of the chicken skin he had, I made him keep the resemblance. The blindfold is something that stays in Sabre's Minecraft skins as it is iconic to his channel. In the story there is an explanation, but I'm not revealing this here as it is a funny thing I want y'all to enjoy finding out yourselves. There will be many changes you notice along the way in how the story progresses, the world build and other stuff, but it is pretty similar to the OG, I just edited what I thought was necessary for things to make sense or add something to expand upon the plot and world.

In the story Sabre is not playing a game (Minecraft) he is instead isekai'ed in a new world. He is physically there. Some things work like a game, such as viewing inventory and storing whatever you want in it or being able to view info about items, in this world it is normal. Things that are not like the game is respawning, he can die just like everyone else. YOLO! Other stuff, like the mobs are a little different, the dimensions are still here as well as the added ones OG story had, and some other things are still being worked out. At this time the rewrite is still in early development. Not only is the story being reworked but the logic and world is too. Which is a lot to think about and figure out, but so far it's going well.

It's going to be a veeeeery long time before I finish rewriting the story and probably even longer for me to post it. I want to make this fully illustrated, like a comic of sorts, so that you can see everything that happens. Now I am pondering whether I should post the story when it's completely finished, which will take FOREVER, or post it when I'm absolutely sure it doesn't need any more edits and I'm satisfied with the chapter, which is probably ideal, but I might change my mind and want to make changes on the future. What a conundrum, but I'm sure the latter is more likely and preferred as I don't want to keep people waiting too long. I might be overthinking some things... I just want to do well and hope y'all enjoy it.

You'll find out more as you read the story about important things that are the same or not, but for now enjoy the designs I drew for the story!

Story: Steve Saga (Fan Rewrite)

Character: Sabre

Abilities: Skilled with redstone machines, a fast learner, and a creative battle tactian.

Personality: Brave, funny, clever, has a sense of leadership, friendly, resourceful, and determined.

[danidrabbles]

ok dani here’s a headcanon for you - i think ezra likes it when he has to shut up during sex, when he’s with someone who makes him stop talking for a change

Astrid, you sent me this in November 2021... It was supposed to be a five sentences challenge, but between three years ago and now, I went in a different direction. Sorry for the wait, but think it might have been worth it 😌

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+!, smut, also: spoilers for Prospect)

You’ve been on the Green Moon together for two months now.

Ezra, hesitant to go back after what happened the last time he was here, was eventually won over because of the filters Kaslo Porting installed. Spore counts are low and dust is absent from the surface. On your joint income, you got a better landing pod - large enough to fit a bed, an ultrasonic shower. When it’s dark, it almost resembles an apartment. It’s where you spend the time you aren’t prospecting. You spend the day in the forest, finding and harvesting Aurelac, watching as Ezra extracts the gems. Even one-handed, he’s good at it, much better than you, efficiently switching between chemicals and tools. 

Today’s harvest is fruitful; your collection case is almost full, which means you can almost go home. When you return to your pod, you share a meal. After, you take turns to freshen up, the vibrations relieving some of the ache in your arms and back. 

When you step out of the shower, Ezra’s in bed, and you make your way to him. You watch as he turns the pages of the magazine in his lap in search of something, keeping the paper down with his palm when he finds what he’s looking for. His reading glasses are perched on the tip of his nose, threatening to slip off… until you reach down and carefully push them back up. Without looking up from his reading, he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand in thanks.

“Do you think we should get this new edition of the Crusader Laser Scalpel?” he asks.

“New edition?” you reply. “It’s probably too expensive.”

Ezra looks up at you with a smile. “Not after we bring our case of gold back up.”

You lift the magazine, turning it so you can read. “Ralon’s latest laser tool for precision cutting now comes with a glove that effectively lowers the required skill level of individuals during harvesting,” you recite while you climb in Ezra’s lap. “Do you really think we need that?”

“The glove might… aid me with my cramps,” he says carefully, clenching and unclenching his fist. 

Your expression immediately softens. Closing the magazine, you put it next to his pillow, before taking off his reading glasses, folding them neatly and putting them on top of the glossy front cover. Taking his hand in yours, you massage his palm. “We'll get it when we get back,” you agree. 

Giving you a thankful smile, Ezra slumps back against the headboard, eyes slipping closed as you relieve the pain in his hand. His hips buck under you when your thumb rolls over a good spot, and you bite your lip when you feel how your close proximity and ministrations affect him. 

“Been thinking about this all day,” he murmurs, his hand slipping from your grasp to settle on your warm thigh.

You stroke his face, thumb tracing the scar under his eye, sliding down his nose, over his moustache, to his full bottom lip. “About what?” you ask, amused, guiding his face closer.

A warm, rumbling sound leaves his throat when his mouth seals over yours. With a swipe of his tongue, he tastes you. “Making you sit on my cock,” he answers between kisses.

“Hmm, is that so?” you smile, heat pooling in your stomach at the simple admission. Reaching between the two of you, you pull the waistband of his boxers down, hooking the fabric under his balls. Ezra pulls away from your mouth with a groan, allowing you to swipe your tongue over your palm and close it around his hardening cock. With a few strokes, you get him wet, using the rest of your saliva on yourself when you hook your underwear to the side and drag your hand between your legs. Twin moans fill the room when you press yourself down against him, your pussy sliding along his shaft with an experimental roll of your hips. “Like this?”

“Not how I envisioned it, but….,” he laughs around a groan when your stiff clit rolls over the swollen tip of his cock, “...as always that pretty head of yours knows just how to make my fantasies even more erotic.”

Heated pride tingles up your spine. The muscles in your thighs work with more deliberation to move yourself up and down over his cock, your hands sliding up over Ezra’s bare chest to his shoulders to give yourself more leverage. A helpful hand reaches down, clamping over the soft skin at your hip to guide your movements while Ezra's thumb hooks your underwear out of the way.

His gaze is trained on the way he disappears between the lips of your pussy, babbling all the while, choruses of “Yeah, fuck”s, “Just like that”s, and “Don’t stop”s, mixed in with curious, affectionate nicknames for you he seems to be making up on the spot. On his third “It’s so good like this,” you shush him with a little laugh.

“Can’t,” he says, the word coming out breathy. “Not unless you were to make me.”

Your hips twitch when you drag yourself over him at a new angle, “Hmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He looks up and something changes in his expression, with a glint in his eye and a subtle upturn of one of the corners of his mouth. One of the hands you have on his shoulder moves, your thumb dipping in the hollow of his throat. “How?” you ask, fingers tightening on the side of his neck. “Like this?”

His throat bobs under your touch, voice rough when he says, “Close.”

With a frown, your hand slides upward, the slight stubble there scraping against your palm. Your fingers dig into the skin below his jaw. “Here?”

“Closer,” he manages. Sweat begins gathering at his brow, and his face turns a pretty shade of red.

Straightaway, your hand lifts from his neck to dig a thumb and forefinger into his cheeks, shoving his head back against the headboard. “Show me,” you growl, grinding down against him.

You expect him to cover your hand with his, to guide you to the right place and squeeze where he needs it. You don’t expect his mouth to open, his tongue to roll out, his eyes to find yours, shiny with lust… Something in you takes over, makes two fingers of the hand you hold his face with slide over his waiting tongue. His lips close around the digits immediately, his tongue swirling around them before he hollows his cheeks with a suck. When you begin to pull back, he whines, sucking harder until his mouth opens around your fingers. “That’s i–”

“Shh,” you say sharply. Your fingers thrust into his mouth, the tips of them skating along the back of his tongue and pushing down. His groan is muffled, saliva sputtering out over the back of your hand when he gags, tears springing into his eyes while you draw little circles over the slick muscle under your fingers. His cock throbs against your cunt, hardening under you while you clench on his shaft and coat him in more of your arousal. “Those are pretty sounds, Ezra. Those are the only ones I want to hear from you.” 

Ezra’s eyes stay on yours, glazing over while his jaw drops further, allowing you to repeat your actions. Prepared this time, his throat only makes a squelching sound in response. It goes straight between your legs when it fills the room as you fuck his throat, when a thick string of spit begins sliding down his chin.

“I’m gonna make you come like this, baby,” you promise, your hips picking up speed as you spread your fingers on his tongue, before thrusting them back into the back of his throat. “And afterwards, I’m going to sit on this handsome face.”

[aroacettorney]

Love(?) languages: Ludgercasey Edition

1. Physical touch threats

(c203) Ludger pushed Casey against the wall. "Tsk!" Ludger's strong right arm grabbed Casey's wrist. A dagger hidden in the palm of his left arm's prosthetic sprung out, aiming at Casey's neck. However, Casey, a veteran mage who had faced many real battles while solving numerous incidents, was not one to be trifled with. From the moment her wand flew away, she summoned water from the underground canal, creating countless spears. The moment Ludger aimed the blade at her neck and the water spears surrounded him happened simultaneously. Their gazes intertwined in the air. Casey smirked, "Impressive man. A mage hiding such skills?" "Stay still. Any nonsense and you'll have a hole in your throat." "Try me. I wonder, will you be faster, or will I be faster at killing you?" "You're just bluffing." Ludger and Casey glared at each other, not averting their gazes. Sharp swords and water spears crackled with murderous intent.

2. Un-quality time

(c257) "Casey Selmore. I recommend that you not pursue me any longer." "Ha. You provoked me and now you want me to stop? Do you think I will?" "Are you bluffing? I admire that spirit." "Let's see if you can remain so condescending when I catch you." "Do you not value your life?" "If I cared about something like that, I wouldn’t have done this job in the first place." "Then try hard to chase after me. This is a game." "What?" "You chase me, I run away from you. Of course, in the meantime, I plan to finish the events that have unfolded beyond this city and throughout the kingdom." "……Do you think I’ll let that happen?" "The beauty of the game is not knowing who will win. But I think I'll have an advantage if it continues like this, so I'll give you a hint." "Who are you to decide that!" "I will move to the next major city, Dartanx. If you want to catch me, come there." "Why should I believe what you say? You could escape to somewhere else for all I know." "If you’re scared, you don’t have to come. Of course, it would be your regret later after someone dies there." "Fine. I'll go. Wash your neck there and wait." "I look forward to it."

3. Receiving gifts Incurring debt

(c490) "I knew it would be like this. Are you sure you did that on purpose?" "But isn’t it fortunate that we now have separate rooms?" "That’s right. That's really fortunate. I could have been completely helpless against a wolf-like man." "That’s not something someone who is more foxy than anyone else in the world would say. And let me tell you, you owe me twice." "Ah. Is that so? I would not have reacted if it weren’t for you? Debt is 1." "But I saved you. Surely you don't underestimate your own value that much? Debt is 2." "It doesn’t matter because I’m the troublemaker that the family is so willing to give away. Debt is 1." "If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been assigned a new room because of this incident. Debt is 2." [...] "Fine. I’ll give in and make it 1.5." "Wait a moment. What even is the concept of 1.5 in debt? Just clear it cleanly.” "Then round it up to 2." "I'll give in and make it 1.5." "Ha. Since I am the one who erased the debt, I guess I can be generous and let it go.” "How annoying." "You’d better pay off your debt to me quickly. Otherwise, I don’t know what I’ll ask for." "Ha! You're bluffing. Do you think I’d be scared of that?" "……" "……You’re bluffing, right?"

4. Acts of service sabotage

(c237) "So, how did you two meet? What's the relationship between you?" Attempting to force a joint gathering, Casey immediately directed her questions at Selina. Selina, initially intending to protest against this intrusion, unexpectedly found herself entangled in a barrage of questions and responded almost involuntarily. "Uh, well, Professor Ludger and I are both teachers at Ceoren." "Oh! Really? Could I ask what major you teach?" "Uh, Spiritology." "Wow! That's impressive! Dealing with spirits is considered challenging unless you have a natural affinity, right?" "I guess?" Normally, Selina should have been furious, but due to her weak demeanour, she was naturally swayed by Casey's words. Ludger looked at Casey's behaviour with disapproval, but Casey ignored his gaze and continued the conversation naturally. "As for that human, I mean, Professor Ludger, how did you end up here together? This is really a date, right?" "Oh, no! A date? No way! It's not like that!" Reacting vehemently as if pricked by a needle, Selina's intense response made Casey catch on. Selina seemed to have a liking for Ludger. Casey felt a twinge of pity. 'How could a girl who is so beautiful and genuine fall for such a bad guy?' If you look at Ludger's behaviour, it was nothing more or less than his attitude towards his co-workers. To think that she would harbour an unrequited love. Moreover, Ludger's true identity was not as innocent as he seemed. 'This won't do. I need to save her from him.' Casey was passionately planning to sabotage Ludger's date(?) as if saving someone's life.

5. Words of affirmation provocation

(c237) At that moment, Selina couldn't resist her curiosity and asked, "Um, how did you two become acquainted? What's the relationship between you?" Selina had a hunch that there was something between Ludger and Casey. Not only did Casey's behaviour of recognizing Ludger and casually engaging in conversation indicate it, but Ludger, who usually kept his emotions hidden, was overtly displaying his displeasure. 'If Ludger reacts like that, it's not an ordinary relationship.' Although Ludger's response seemed just as irritable as usual, Selina felt it resembled the interactions between close friends. 'It must be a misunderstanding. It has to be.' As Selina was praying silently for this to be true, Casey replied, "Ah, this jerk... I mean, this person, right? We just happened to meet. Of course, we're not that close. Well, that much?" "You don't need to bother too much about this useless person who only causes trouble for me," Ludger added. "What? Hold on a second. Aren't your words a bit too much? Calling me useless!" "I simply stated the obvious." "Well, I can relate to that sentiment." Listening quietly, Betty chimed in at Ludger's words. "It's hilarious. When it comes to measuring nuisances, you're worse, you know?" "Hmph. That's just your personal opinion." Seeing the banter between the two, Selina's expression darkened, "Oh, so you two are really close." Selina's gaze shifted towards the fork she held in her hand.

[skelecentral]

Day 14 of Bad Sansuary (hosted by @owl-bones!): Tears

WC: 1230

(A/N: I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to draw for today’s prompt, so I wrote something instead! It was a lot of fun :) That being said, please keep in mind I haven’t tried to write a fanfic since I was 15 (I really enjoy writing in general, but I tend to err on the side of nonfiction) and I didn’t have a whole lot of time to edit. Disclaimer aside, please enjoy!)

~~~~~*~*~*~~~~~

Dust hadn’t intended to overhear you. By all accounts, he shouldn’t have. He rarely walked by your room, having no reason to tread down a hall so distant from his own quarters — aside from heading to the kitchen and dining hall, where you always arrived before him, talking to Axe and eagerly waiting for the rest of the gang to arrive so you could dig into your serving. He couldn’t blame you, of course; Axe’s cooking was delectable. He’d worked hard to fix his relationship with food since being taken in by Nightmare, and his culinary skills had flourished, the result of his efforts brimming with flavor and healing intent. Though, he felt the dishes were always best when you helped to make them.

He was headed to dinner then, scrolling on his phone and letting out a lighthearted huff of air at the boundless fruits of the internet, when he first heard you. He caught a muffled group of sniffles and barely audible cries originating from beyond your door, and instinctively paused five paces away, listening further and holding his breath so he wouldn’t alert you to his presence. In his stillness, your quiet sobs became clearer and remained undeterred.

He didn’t know what to do then, frozen in his place and stuck listening. He was never any good at handling emotional situations, especially like this one, where he knew his job was to approach and soothe. The other residents of the castle were far better suited for work like this; even Killer, who was more than a bit selfish, seemed to be able to consistently cheer a downtrodden friend. Half of the times he recalled trying to comfort someone, the person ended up more distressed than when he first arrived. Perhaps it was for this reason, among a bounty of others, he avoided the role of counselor.

He quietly started back forward.

He’d never heard you cry before, and something about the sound made him ache. He wanted to fix it. You weren’t as close to him as you were to the others, though, he reasoned, so it made more sense to call upon one of them to help you. He continued to listen to your sniffling as he made it past your door. You might be embarrassed to know he heard you, after all — he should leave you be. The door now four paces behind him, he could still just hear your deadened weeping. He wondered what you were crying about.

Groaning at his stubborn soul and lack of conviction, he doubled back and gave a courtesy knock at your door. Your crying didn’t stop.

“it’s dust. i’m coming in.” He shortcutted just beyond the entryway to your space, prepared to ignore a protest, a welcome, or any words from you that never came.

The lights were off and the lone window by the head of your bed had curtains drawn over it, enveloping the room in a thick cocoon of darkness. Your bed was a mess, sheets barely hanging onto the mattress and mostly crumpled, depressed, on the floor. The dirty laundry and other clothes strewn about the carpet was accompanied by a large amount of trash — mostly empty food wrappers — and foul-smelling air. Subconsciously, his nose scrunched. By the standards of his own room the mess wouldn’t have been bad, lacking a trash tornado and all, but he was pretty sure your floor was usually more visible than it was.

He noticed you curled into a small ball in the far left corner of the chamber, face in knees and arms wrapped tightly around legs in a poor parody of a hug. You hadn’t even bothered to look up when he came in, or to stop quietly crying — you just closed into yourself more tightly. After some hesitance, he said your name. Yet again, there was no indication you’d even heard him.

He sighed. Awkwardly avoiding trash and clothes, he crossed the room to your darkened crevice, and slumped quietly against the wall to your right. Another short bout of teary silence ensued.

“...so…” he rubbed the back of his cervical vertebrae. “your room doesn’t look too good.” Your eyes didn’t come to meet his with a watery glare like he’d hoped. Instead, you remained still, almost statuesque if it weren’t for your bouncing shoulders.

Fuck. He held back another sigh and stared down at his slippers, playing with his gloved phalanges. He could never think of the right thing to say, and you’d never know how bad he felt if he were to make your situation worse. Frustrated with his own ineptness and the tension in the air, he wracked his brain for another set of words to spew — a collection that might actually help.

In the end, he decided to take a gamble. Grunting quietly, he mustered his nerve.

“...what's wrong?” Cringing internally at the fear he’d taken a poor risk, he focused his sights back on you. He wrung his hands as he stared. There was silence for what felt like several minutes, long enough he was tempted to physically smack himself for prying and begin wracking his brain for something else to say.

“I-” your voice cracked as you tried to answer him, your vocal chords swollen from your weeping. He snapped to attention, thoughts quieting as something finally changed. “I — just —” your upset turned from hoarse whispers to broken words as you unwrapped your arms from your knees and encircled them forcefully around his middle. He was stilled at the embrace as you squeezed his ribs and cried into his jacket, still trying to babble out an answer to his stupid question. Slowly, uncertainly, he wrapped his own arms around your midsection, firmly holding you to his chest.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.” Your failed words warped into loud sobs as you stopped trying to vocalize what had happened. It was all too much — too painful — that he understood. He rubbed your back slowly, gently, softly saying your name. “it’s okay,” he whispered, “everything’s gonna be okay. i’m right here.” He regurgitated the sentiments he’d heard the others use when comforting children and victims as you let it out, pawing circles on your back, though he wished he had something of his own to offer. He was sure he’d come up with the perfect words later in bed that night when it was far too late, but that was neither here nor there — whatever you needed, he would give, even if it wasn’t his.

His soft words persisted with a soothing rumble in his chest until, slowly, your downpour turned back to a drizzle and then to less than a drop, your exhausted form slumping against him as your fists stopped clinging to his jacket quite so tightly. He didn’t know for how long you’d been crying before he’d arrived, but seeing your fatigued state made him think it was quite a while.

Gradually, a small time after you’d gone quiet, you tilted your head up to his, gaze still downwards and refusing to make eye contact. Your eyes were gleaming and puffy, your face wet, and your cheeks and ears warm — even like this, he thought, you were striking.

“...Thank you,” you whispered. Dust brought his hand up to the top of your head and trailed it lightly down to the shell of your ear.

“...anytime.”

[iloveyou-writers]

Milestone Celebration: Top 10

Top 10 Messages Writers Need to Hear More Often

It's okay to write terribly - you don't have to be perfect from the very first word that you write down

The "sucking" phase is actually a crucial one to becoming a great writer and if you don't allow yourself to go through it, you'll never become great because you won't get the practice in to become great

You need breaks - it's unrealistic to force yourself to write all of the time. Even professional writers need to have breaks sometimes, just like other professions get time off

You are being way too hard on yourself. These things that you think make your writing awful? Others either won't notice or will find endearing. Sure, there'll be the occasional person that'll notice and care, but if it really bothers you, you can always adjust the writing. You don't have to scrap the whole thing over a simple mistake

It's okay to quit. Don't quit just because you're getting frustrated but if you truly don't want to write anymore, go ahead and quit. There's no shame in it. Just keep your writing. You'll regret it later down the road if you delete everything on a whim.

It's okay to scrap your writing without feeling guilt. You're ultimately writing for yourself, and if you're not into a piece of writing, it's okay to scrap it or change it into something you do want to write.

Your writing should ultimately please you, so if you see tips or advice or have someone tell you a certain change will make it better, consider if the change will keep your story the way you want it. If it will, feel free to change/edit it. If not, then don't. Take all advice with a grain of salt.

This kind of goes with #7 but not all advice will work for you. Hell, my advice can be all over the place because I recognize there is no one size fits all advice for writing. The way a story should be told depends on the story itself and so therefore, take the advice you feel will enhance your story and ignore all others. It's not selfish, it's not self-involved. It's healthy.

It doesn't matter what your writing process is, if it works for you, it's valid and should be continued. If it doesn't, try something new until you figure out what does.

All writing is valid. Fanfiction, original, long, short, fictional, nonfiction, all writing matters. Don't sell yourself short just because your writing isn't like someone else's.

Bonus message:

Stop comparing your writing to others' and using it as a way to invalidate yours. Your writing has its own beauty that the other's doesn't and I guarantee there are people comparing to yours, feeling how you do about theirs, so just feel pride in your own writing and don't let seeing the beauty in others' writing discourage you. Instead, be proud of them and just work on honing your own skills. All writers have skills and setbacks. Work with your own skills and hone the ones you wish to sharpen.

<3 Thank you for 2k follows. I hope you're all doing amazing.

[blueskittlesart]

hi, correct me if i'm wrong but i seem to remember you saying that you're majoring in illustration! i'm currently in the process of applying to colleges and i plan on majoring in illustration as well, so i was wondering if you had any advice for portfolios. I could really use some tips on the presentation aspect specifically, bc I'm a little lost when it comes to stuff like the arrangement/organization of pieces, how I should crop my pictures, etc. any advice you can give me is greatly appreciated!!

hi yes i can totally help you out with this! i like to think my college portfolio was pretty good bc i got accepted to every school i sent it to lol :) the main pieces of advice that i was given when building it were this:

studies and pieces that show off your technical skill are great, but limit them to around a third of your portfolio at most. art schools DO want to see that you're technically skilled and can like, draw a charcoal still life or a self-portrait, because those ARE important skills to have, but ESPECIALLY if you're applying to a school that's more known for contemporary fields like animation or illustration, it's much more likely that they want to see your creative mind at work. the single best thing you can put in your portfolio is a BODY OF WORK, and specifically a body of work that shows off your own ideas and your own take on whatever you're producing. this means 3+ pieces that are interconnected or related to the same central theme. my portfoilo, for example, consisted of 2 or 3ish traditional, technical pieces which showed that I had a certain level of technical skill, and the ENTIRE rest of it was devoted to a series of original interconnected narrative comics I'd written and drawn. Every reviewer I met with told me that this was what made my portfolio stand out to them--it showed that I was not only technically skilled, but that i had something i wanted to DO with that skill, that I had direction and drive with my art and was able to produce work that reflected that. If you're maybe (definitely) not quite as ambitious as me, something like a series of 3-5 interconnected illustrations or a short comic if you're into that might do the same thing.

as a side note, if you DO have a body of work as the central focus of your portfolio, a lot of colleges will be interested in your process as well! for example with my comic portfolio, i used one slot to demonstrate my process, because I penciled every page traditionally before digitalizing it and i had extensive character and worldbuilding sketches. I wouldn't devote more than one slot to it, but if you have a body of work where the process is important to you it could be worth throwing in!

arrangement is tricky, but the advice I generally heard was "put your best stuff first." whatever you're most excited about, whatever is going to grab someone's attention the fastest, that's what you want to have in your first slot. (I actually don't think I followed this advice on my applications LOL but it's what i was TOLD to do and i think it's solid advice.)

in terms of editing, assuming we're talking about traditional pieces being photographed, you want to make sure your pieces are 1. well-lit, (DO NOT TAKE YOUR PHOTOS WITH OVERHEAD LIGHTING. wait for an overcast day and take them outside trust me) 2. legible, (no weird shadows obscuring parts of the piece, high-quality enough that no details are lost due to digital pixelation, etc) and 3. as color-accurate to real life as you can make them. most of this is just about getting a decent-quality camera (a newer iphone should be fine) and a good location. (outside and overcast, as previously mentioned) you may want to throw your pics into photoshop and play with the balance slightly, but I wouldn't do anything too drastic, try to get the most accurate photo possible without any editing. (if your pieces are small and flat, scanning them in may work better. most public and school libraries have scanners you can use for free.)

finally, cropping. the general rule that I was taught is to crop the piece, not the photograph. if you've got a piece on paper and you're not sure you like how the actual drawing is oriented on the paper, crop the PAPER down to size, and THEN photograph it. your photos should aim to show the ENTIRE piece from edge to edge (unless it's a detail shot obv) and I even like to include a little bit of extra "breathing room" around the piece so that it's clear exactly where the dimensions of it end. here's a piece I used for my college portfolios for reference:

i lowkey do not like this piece now but that's not the point. this is what i mean by breathing room--a few extra inches of space around the actual canvas so it's clear that this isn't a closeup and you can see where the canvas actually ends. the same is true for digital pieces. if it's a full bleed illustration (something with full color all the way to the edges of the canvas) just make sure you like the composition cropped the way it is and submit the full piece as-is. if it's a floating spot or something similar without hard edges, leave a bit of white or transparent breathing room around the edge of your image.

hope this helps! if you have any more specific questions lmk :)

[mumms-the-word]

Epic musical Solavellan anon here again!

Been enjoying Veilguard so far! Although I'm not as fast as when I did DAI, now I'm also just thinking about playing all the way from Origins so I can have my very own world state!

But then I've seen that apparently DAO is impossible to play on PC and I only play on PC :(

Would it detract from the experience to just go from DA2? Sucks though that I can't go all the way from the beginning.

Oh anon I will move Heaven and Earth to help you play DAO because it’s my favorite of the series. I play it on PC currently! Here’s what you have to do:

First, buy the Steam version, because that's gonna make your life so much easier than buying it through the EA app or whatever. If you already have it through EA app then the rest of this is going to be a smidge different but there are youtube videos explaining how to get this done. Let's assume you have the Steam game though!

DAO crashes a ton because it's old and needs a patch called the 4GB patch. Problem is, the game is encrypted. So you have to get an unencrypted file from nexus here: https://www.nexusmods.com/dragonage/mods/5989?tab=description and then download the 4GB patch here: https://ntcore.com/4gb-patch/

Now you gotta smash them together. Here are the steps I took:

Download the Nexus mod.

Grab the “DAOrigins.exe” file from your nexus download.

Drop it into the “bin_ship” folder for Dragon Age Origins**

Make sure it OVERWRITES the existing “DAOrigins.exe” file.

Download the 4GB patch (it's a program).

Extract it and set it somewhere that you can run it as an application (desktop is fine).

Open 4GB patch program. In the patch window, find the new “DAOrigins.exe” file in the “bin_ship” folder.

Click “Open” on the 4GB patch app.

Boom, everything should be ready to go the next time you open up the game in Steam.

**your "bin_ship" folder SHOULD be located through this pathway: Program Files (86x) > Steam > steamapps > common > Dragon Age Ultimate Edition > bin_ship

Sometimes your Program Files might be called something else, or your copy of DAO might not be the ultimate edition (I think Steam is only selling the ultimate edition rn though). But otherwise the pathway should look like that.

Once you've completed all those steps, congratulations!! You can play DAO with almost no crashes! I play with a lot of mods rn and it doesn't crash that much for me. So the game isn't unplayable!

(Unless you hate the keyboard controls like a whole heck of a lot then I guess maybe it's unplayable but that's like...a skill issue...and I say that as someone who HATES keyboard and mouse gameplay because I suck at it lmao)

Speaking of mods, if you or anyone wants my modlist I can link that too. I did my time of DAO vanilla gameplay on the xbox 360 (ten years of it!!) and I think I deserve a treat like pretty clothes and better textures. I also have a modding guide drafted up for anyone that wants it since DAO modding is kind of a chore.

BUT YES ANON YOU CAN PLAY DAO

AND YOU SHOULD BECAUSE I LOVE IT

okay that's all bye <3