#post. post resolving whatever is going on

[soapcloth]

Love, and it’s teeth {prologue}

Dark au -> gourmand cannibal!Price x reader

Series CW: 18+ MDNI, cannibalism, stalking {will update as I go}

not edited - 1000 words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Price, for all intents and purposes had not meant to engage in Internet forums on the topic of cannibalism. He would sooner paint a bright red target on his back accompanied by the words ‘I eat people’- and yet, something about the way you defended ‘cannibalism as a metaphor for love’ with your whole chest had piqued his interest.

‘It’s a load of shite, love.’ he typed out simply in response to your post, blunt thumb jamming the send button on his touch screen. His phone buzzed almost instantly with your response.

‘lol, don’t call me love. Just say you lack whimsy and move on 😭 anyways I’m not arguing with an old British man, ‘JohnP1977’’

He scoffed, shoulder bulk shaking as he pawed at his jaw incredulously. He spent the next few minutes typing and deleting as he puffed on one of his cigars; every response coming off far too incriminating. He finally settled for tapping your icon to snoop around your profile, there was no discernible personal information at a glance aside from the fact that you were an adult, but digging into your media tab rewarded his diligence well. There you sat on your bed, oot’d? ooted? Whatever that meant. He grinned, double tapping on the photo.

Like clockwork, his phone buzzed in his hand- a direct message popping up. He smiled, languid and knowing. ‘creep 👎’ was all the message said. ‘Just showing you how whimsical I can get x.’ He responded.

Your typing bubble popped up and subsequently disappeared in a seemingly infinite loop. ‘fine’ you finally sent. ‘what do you have against cannibalism being used as a metaphor for love?’

You- all too cozy in your bed, watched your screen with your lip drawn up past your teeth. ‘Nothing, love.’ He acquiesced ‘Just not realistic, that’s all.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘ok? not exactly going for realism here, buddy’

‘Buddy? We’re friends now? What’s your name, love? Since we’re buddies and all.’

You bit out a weak laugh at his gall. ‘you sound like a serial killer’

‘Would that be okay if I was doing it as a metaphor for love? x’

-

You hadn’t thought much about that man with the blank profile since blocking him after he had spammed you with likes, notably on pictures with places you frequented as the subject. It had freaked you out enough to make you deep clean your little personal account and set to private. The right choice, evidently, seeing as a few blank profiles had requested to follow you before he had finally given up. Soon, over a month had passed since you had resolved not to visit your favourite- that fact well-documented, local bar due to the aforementioned string of incidents.

As luck would have it, this seemed to be a good choice, burnt toast theory or whatever you wanted to sum it up to. It was all over news and radio in your town, two patrons, a man and a woman, had gone missing right after leaving in an unmarked ride share. Reports had suggested that they had gotten into the wrong car and local officials spoke about the possibility of a curfew and urged towards the use of established taxi services and public transportation for those getting around.

You currently sat back at that same bar, a bleeding heart for the poor owners that had lamented in a local social media group about the winter business they relied on to pay the ever-increasing bills all but dying out, putting them out a good chunk of money since investing in higher quality security measures in hopes of instilling greater public trust. You watched the blurry, soundless released cctv footage play on the news between sports game coverage as you sipped on your drink, eyes flitting between the yellowed flatscreen and a group running a trivia night. You sighed, taking another sip as you overheard someone beside you talking about how this whole disaster had been great for his cab business, likening it to a boon.

“Christ, have some respect.” A deep voice grumbled from your other side, causing your head to rip to the new stranger being dismissively jeered at by the offending party. A bearded man had somehow silently slotted himself into the seat to your right without alerting you. Catching his gaze, his eyes appraised you for a moment before he tutted and shook his head. “Distasteful lot they are.” He hissed, “Don’t even know if they’re gone yet.” You huffed out a quiet breath and nodded in response, not too keen on being cordial. His voice carried a proper British lilt, the accent a reminder of your short-lived cyber stalker. “This town always so crass?”

You sniffed and looked back, shrugging. “Maybe, dunno.” You mumbled. Something about this guy gave you the creeps. He was handsome enough, older, well kept, and filling out his wool-lined Levi’s jacket like it had been tailored around his body specifically, but there was something in the way you caught him licking at his teeth and gums out of the corner of your vision- the smile you could make out as he watched the news pop up once more, it twisted your gut- made you feel like it was a mistake coming here.

“Can I grab my tab?” You spoke, flagging down the bartender that you had caught making eyes at the patron beside you. She smiled and nodded, and you desperately wished her face would have hinted that she had caught the same vibes from him that you had, something to make you feel like you weren’t reading into it or making things up. “Leaving?” The man asked as you grabbed your winter coat. You nodded, causing him to dive into his pocket for a well worn wallet, treated hide of some sort. “Let me, love.”

You nodded, the less you’d have to talk to him the better and something told you that he wouldn’t drop it if you had refused, anyway. “Thanks.” You breathed. “Have a nice night.” See you never, hopefully.

“Get home safe.” He replied, grinning with teeth.

[unholyhelbig]

Caitvi Prompt: Caitlyn is head Park Ranger and deals with an unruly deputy Ranger Vi who has recently become unruly and animalistic. Caitlyn doesn’t understand the change in attitude until Vi turns up naked and injured on her cabins doorstep.

Title: Shoot to Kill

Ship: Werewolf!Vi x Park Ranger!Caitlyn

Wordcount: 5019

Summary: It's been months since a brutal attack took both Cassandra Kiramman and Powder Lane from the world. Caitlyn and Vi handle their grief differently, but something just isn't right with Vi, and things can't be ignored forever.

Warnings: Typical werewolf gore, blood, bullets, canon-typical violence, animal attack, shooting, self-sacrifice, almost nsfw but not quite there yet, horrible spelling, I don't beta read we know this.

[A/n: I went overboard here. I love arcane, I love werewolves, what were we expecting when someone sent me this prompt? Anyway. You know I bad I wanted to make this full smut? SO fucking bad but it didn't seem like the time for them to fuck. So they didn't. Do people even like my Arcane stuff? Fuck no, but this is for me.]

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Blood filled Vi’s mouth with a metallic density that was not unfamiliar but was entirely unwelcome. A low tide of a headache was pulling at her temples, her mouth a cottony type of dry that she couldn’t swallow away.

She was running late. Even in the darkness of her cabin, she knew that she was pushing it by the way the daylight filtered through the slatted blinds. Caitlyn was going to have her hide. She’d been warned twice already, pulled into the office that smelled too much like lavender and wood polish.

Vi shoved her feet unceremoniously into her boots. She swished a shot of peppermint schnapps around her mouth until it was warm and frothy before swallowing and dashing out the door. Vi didn’t’ bother to tuck her shirt in and do up her laces.

Showing up was enough. It had to be enough. There was dirt and blood under her nails and her skin was taut with sweat. She probably smelled rank with the outdoors and her body ached something fierce from the night before. Vi didn’t’ feel comfortable looking in the mirror before she hauled herself to the main cabin.

The state of her was not normal. It was not human. But she was present and that was all Ranger Kiramman was going to get on this balmy Wednesday morning.

Doubt, mixed with a decidedly solid amount of dread, swirled with a fullness in Vi’s stomach. She was full, a feeling that she did not enjoy being. She had eaten last night, something big that left a horrible nausea clinging to the inside of her stomach. A heat in the back of her throat and slicking the inside of her stomach.

She crashed unceremoniously through the door of the main cabin. The annoying brass bell gave her tardiness away as it deposited her into the gift shop. Caitlyn’s deadly oxford stare leveled her with precision, but she never faltered in her delivery.

Loris steadied her with his hulking size, taking up just as much space as the bookshelf that he stood near. He regarded her with his quiet amusement and low huff as she attempted to shove her shirt past her belt without drawing more eyes to herself.

“As I was saying.” Caitlyn’s voice was cutting, slicing through whatever resolve Vi had left. “The rest of the week and into next is a fire ban. There will be push back. In zone’s seven and eight, especially. Overton and Dunne, I want you positioned there around the clock. Do not hesitate to hand out red notices. One spark and the whole forest could go up. Am I clear?”

A murmured chorus of agreements rung out. A burn notice would draw attention away from Vi, at least for now. It worked Caitlyn’s nerves like a string instrument. Anger still simmered in the stare that moved her way.

“As for the rest of you, you know your posts, and you have your assignments. Keep your walkies on channel seven and signal if you need anything. Remember that laws are not suggestions and safety is key.” She scanned the lot of Rangers, brows furrowed and nose wrinkled in the way that Vi found oddly endearing. “Dismissed.”

Loris shoved her shoulder with enough force to shove a burp into her mouth, one that was not pleasant. She nearly vomited up whatever she had torn through last night, but luckily swallowed it back down. He wandered over to the busted coffee maker where he would linger long enough for Vi to take her verbal lashing.

If it were up to her, she’d slip into the woods and take her usual post at the North end of the park, checking permits until her fingers bled. It would be an easy day as long as she could nurse her headache. She and Loris could squeeze into the same box and answer the same questions from the same brand of tourists until it was time to go back to her cabin.

The pinching floral scent that often invaded Vi’s lungs seemed to surround her in an instant. It used to be something she enjoyed, but as of late, it was something she couldn’t’ control. It was overwhelming in a way that was too much. It made her stomach roll and her throat tighten. If she were to vomit, it would be blood and bones and bile.

“Violet, I want you to take a walk with me.”

Caitlyn’s voice was unbelievably tender for the situation at hand. She was expecting a verbal scrouge. Even her features were worked into something calm. Vi was too exhausted to fight back. After her little side quest last night, she wanted to curl into a ball under her blankets and sleep for an eternity.

“I uh, have to assist Loris with the morning rush of tourists, don’t I?”

She shook her head. “I’ve stationed Steb. You don’t look like you feel well. Follow me.”

“God, you’re taking me out back to shoot me like old yeller.”

Caitlyn snorted and held the screen door open. Vi walked through it first, taking in another lungful of Caitlyn’s floral scent. She wish it were comforting. She wished her friend, the woman she used to trust with anything in the world, brought her some degree of relief.

She hadn’t in months, and they both felt it. Bone deep.

They walked for a few minutes. Until the commotion of the other rangers dispersing faded into nothing. The forest offered nothing to Vi lately. She hadn’t noticed it at first; the lack of sound. Crickets and morning birds and small animals that created a cacophony of noise that she had always taken for granted before.

Caitlyn’s breathing had stuttered, a nervous tick she developed at a young age that Vi picked up months ago when her hearing had risen to a deafening level. She shoved her hands into her pockets and softened her gaze, dipping her head. Attempting to show submission.  She’d never meant to make Caitlyn nervous.

She removed her green nightcap, working her fingers around the wide brimmed edge. Another nervous habit. Vi could smell the sweetness of her sweat, something she hadn’t been privy to since the funeral when her nose was pressed so close to the girls pulse point that the smell had coated every inch of her.

Vi was so close that she could hear the rush of her blood and the pounding of her heart. Her mouth filled with saliva so rapidly that she couldn’t keep up with swallowing. She’d nearly drooled at the thought of opening her maw and tearing Caitlyn’s jugular out with one clamp of her jaw.

Shoving her away and storming from the procession was attributed to grief. Anger at nature for having the audacity of taking them in the first place. Caitlyn and Vi must have been hurting so much that any action they committed was acceptable for a time.

Six months later and people still asked how they were doing. Caitlyn would tell them that she was fine. Vi would tell them that she felt like shit. Both would smile sadly. Caitlyn threw herself into her inherited role of Head Ranger and Vi drank on nights that she couldn’t forget and leaned into nights that she didn’t remember.

“They expect me to strip you of your title.” Caitlyn sighed out in one hot breath that splayed against Vi’s cheeks. “Those rangers in there… know I have a soft spot for you, Vi. Anyone else and I would have done far worse. They’d be out of a job.”

Caitlyn frowned and plopped down onto the pebbled shore next to a stream. Run-off from one of the glaciers at the top of the peak. The water was crisp and clear. Vi would dip her fingers into it sometimes, trying to disturb the flow and shock some sense into herself. She lowered herself carefully next to her friend. The only girl who had ever made her ache this viciously.

“I didn’t mean to put you in that position, Cupcake.”

“You’re hurting.”

“So are you.”

Vi swallowed something thick in her throat, picked up a smooth stone and dug her fingers into it as if she could shave off decades of shaping. Trout colored eyes traced the curve of Caitlyn’s side profile as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. She drew in careful breathes. The sound of the stream drowned out the silence around them.

Cassandra Kiramman’s entrails had been gnawed into paste after her stomach was torn open unceremoniously. Vi remembers the squelch of flesh and the snap of her sternum. Her screams had turned into a drowned gurgle before there was nothing.

The creature, after having gotten the taste for the richness of Kiramman blood, had gone for the throat and mercifully took Cassandra out of her misery. Vi watched the light leave her eyes. Something she’d seen slowly dim in Caitlyn’s over the months.

Now, she clenched her own eyes shut. “I can’t leave these woods, Cait. They’re all I know. I’ll try harder.”

“I know you will. I didn’t come out here to, what did you say? Shoot you like old yeller. I might be in charge of you, Violet, but I’m also your friend.” Her voice wavered on the word, stuck in her throat as much as she allowed. “I want you to talk to me.”

She gave her a sad grin “I talk to you all the time, Cupcake.”

“You know what I mean.” Cait’s eyebrow twitched. She hesitated, something she never did. Not in all the years that Vi had known her. But it was only for a moment. Her hand slipped into Vi’s, dislodging the stone she had wanted to thread into putty. “You can talk to me.”

Vi felt her throat tighten and a dampness come to her eyes that she quickly blinked away. Whatever she ate last night threatened to make a third return. She nodded, afraid to speak, but it seemed to be enough to Caitlyn. She gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. It was warm and solid.

Greif weighed heavily between them both. But the lead that welded Vi’s jaw shut was more than subconscious. If she could help it, and she could, Caitlyn would never find out about the animal that shredded her mother.

It had been closed casket for a reason.

They buried an empty one for Jinx. Vi had been in and out of consciousness through her own blinding pain. She’d gasped. It was caught in her throat along with the scent of Cassandras viscera. Long teeth had crunched through Vi’s left lumbar, the soft brawn of her giving away like it was tillable earth.  

She’d looked into the creature’s eyes. They were glowing red, feral. It was frothing at the mouth, saliva mixing so deliciously with what could only be Vi’s own blood. There was nothing but hunger behind it’s actions. And for a moment, Vi could understand that want.

Only for a moment.

Jinx- Powder- she had a loud whistle that could catch the attention of a hound within a ten-mile radius. This snapping animal was no different. It whipped it’s maw up fast enough to drip saliva against Vi’s festering wounds.

“Don’t!” Vi had screamed because she was so desperate to save her little sister. But the look in her eyes was resolute. Even in the light of the full moon. It showed more than the hunger, the viciousness. Jinx was on a mission. A martyr that would die for her charge.

She had the audacity to nod at Vi that night, to grin at her in a wolfish manner before her boots kicked up gravel. Evidently, the animal enjoyed the chase more than the prey it had pinned under it’s large paws. Claws dug sharply into Vi’s chest and stomach, tearing like soft butter into her stomach and chest.

Vi remembers screaming. She remembers the warmth of her own blood and the pale light of the moon overhead. She thinks she remembers her sisters maniacal howl combined with that of her own.

No… She would spare Caitlyn Kiramman the pain that her mother had endured. Some things are better left unlearned.

The smell of gunpowder, sulfurous and smokey, brought up a helping of vomit that Vi couldn’t swallow down. She thought it was vomit but couldn’t quite tell. It could have been nothing more than blood surfacing from the wound that had torn through the wound in her sternum.

The head ranger herself had fired off what was supposed to be a warning shot, but even with her immense fear clouding her aim, she had managed to land a slug in Violet. Silver. It burned viciously, sizzled like acid. Maybe it had been bile that splattered onto the forest floor in a stringy mess.

Vi’s vision was blurry with tears, cheek pressed to the earth as she watched Caitlyn on the front porch of her cabin, clutching her rifle. She released vapor with each breath, eyes methodically scanning the tree line.

Her bones were morphing into something human, something much more becoming. The bullet lodged within her was making it nearly impossible. Her nails were long, her ears tipped with red fur akin to her own hair. Her pointed teeth digging so painfully into her bottom lip to stifle her pained growls.

She was far from wolf, but far from mortal.

When the moon rose this high, she lost herself in the pain and the hunger that had led to her original demise. Vi preferred it this way. She separated the beast that tore through her once a month from the human that kept it at bay the rest of the time. She didn’t know what the wolf did. Did not want to.

Anger surged through her now.

The National Park was endless, and yet… yet… she was at Caitlyn Kiramman’s doorstep. There was a sinking feeling within her that the creature she’d buried deep had been stalking the woman. The disease that had transferred through bite, through blood, couldn’t get enough. Wouldn’t unclamp it’s greedy jaws.

Violet craved Caitlyn’s touch. Preened under her approval. The creature must do the same. Had to, if it had gotten close enough for a shot to be fired. For a bullet to hit.

She rolled over onto her back and started clawing desperately with her sharpened nails at the shot. She clipped down on her tongue to swallow her scream, digging around the wound. She couldn’t grasp it, only pushed it further down. She swore she would drown in her own blood. It threatened to heal around her fingers, causing nothing but undeniable agony.

Cait had lowered the muzzle of her gun, squinting directly where she lay, as if she could see directly into Vi’s soul. Frosty eyes watched her, and she’d be damned if they didn’t send a chill down her spine, regardless of the thin line of blood that dripped down the corner of her mouth.

This was about more than swallowing her pride. Caitlyn was her only lifeline here. She wouldn’t blame the girl for taking one look at her and firing a second shot that wasn’t a warning right between her eyebrows.

Another tweak of horrible pain and her decision was made. Vi dug her slowly receding nails into the soft soil and dragged herself to the edge of the head rangers property. She was trembling, weak. The pale moonlight hitting her tattooed marred skin. She stiffened, feeling an odd rush counter her pain.

Caitlyn sucked in a sharp breath and repositioned her weapon, steeling her stance. Vi lazily dug her chin into the earth and stared at the woman with stars in her eyes. She used to lounge on Cait’s bed with the same disposition. Albeit in less throbbing pain.

“Violet?”

The safety was switched off and the rifle was propped up against the door. Caitlyn was dashing across the lawn, barefoot despite the many times she had warned her own rangers against the dangers of doing so. Goosebumps prickled against her skin and undeniable worry etched onto her beautiful features.

She dropped to her knees, despite the dampness of the grass. Vi Stiffened, attempted to press her face into the grass but Caitlyn’s hands were quicker to cup her face. She could see the reflection of the golden glow in the blue of the woman’s gaze.

Vi stifled a whimper at the hold. She was naked and could feel her muscles stiffening. It was getting harder to move, to breathe without feeling the burn in her lungs. They crackled uncomfortably. The hands that cradled her face were warm. If she were to die at this moment, this would be enough.

“Darling, did I…” her voice was choked “I’ve shot you.”

“You never miss, Cupcake.”  

“I thought you were an animal.” She swiped both thumbs across Vi’s cheeks, wiping away tears and dirt and sweat, and maybe a little bit of blood.

“I think I might be.”

“Oh.”

The conversation was far too casual, Vi decided. She wavered in the cold, coughed up another mouthful of mucus and blood. This changed the worry in Caitlyn’s eyes to something harder that resembled the training that both of them had.

She scooped Vi up with strength that lingered fruitfully under her soft cotton t-shirt sleep clothes. The smaller woman opened her mouth to protest but the words died as her vision fluttered at the edges and her head slotted so easily into the small of Caitlyn’s throat.

It would be so easy her wolf howled to taste her.

Vi whined to drown out the thought, clutched the fabric that she clung to like a life raft. If Loris or Steb or even the orange-haired receptionist that glowered at her with contempt from behind the gift shop desk saw her now she would blanch. Never admit had content she felt in Caitlyn Kiramman’s arms.

And, God, was she content.

Caitlyn kicked the door to her cabin open and Vi breathed in a mix of spices from an earlier dinner untouched. She knew the layout of the cabin well, could hear the low crackle of a fire and could feel the heat of it as she was set down on the sofa that mirrored the hearth.

“I don’t understand it. I’ve nailed you with a shot right in the chest. You should be dead, or at the very least on it’s doorstep, not mine. You’re regarding me with discontent like I tasered you, or stunned you. Not like I took a Winchester and fired off a round. I rightly should take the stat phone and call the proper authority to get you to the emergency room and me to the psych ward.”

Caitlyn rambled in an adorably infuriating way when she was flustered. Even if Vi could get past the dryness in her throat she wouldn’t stop her. She enjoyed the way her cheeks would grow pink and she’d work the impassable problems out by her own accord.

She was flitting around, grabbing antiseptic, and medical kits that she had stashed, because she knew exactly what to do. Vi hadn’t realized she opened her eyes, or that she was watching her with a lazy content, but that’s exactly what she was doing, hand resting above her wound to subconsciously protect herself, breathing stuttered.

Her nails had retracted and so had her ears, thankfully. But her teeth still felt crowded in her mouth and she couldn’t calm her heart. She didn’t know, couldn’t know, if her eyes still shown a dangerous golden yellow. Caitlyn, her Caitlyn, had seen them either way. She balked at the fact.

“Cait,” Vi eventually stuttered out, clinging onto that floral scent that surrounded her so diligently. The Ranger was at her side in just a moment, crouching next to the sofa, grasping at her flexed and unflexed bicep. It was coated in a sheen of cold sweat. “I need you to get the bullet out. Please.”

That flicker of doubt was there again. It was brief but startling all the same. The Kiramman’s did not falter. She stared openly at Vi’s bare chest. At the pierced, pert nipples and the marred flesh in between them. In any other situation she would make a crude comment to cover her embarrassment, but this was not any other situation and Vi needed this bullet out now.

She gently grabbed the side of Caitlyn’s face, directing her attention, leading that deadly Cambridge stare to her own. “I understand that I am the last… I am the last… I didn’t…”

Vi was going about this wrong. She didn’t know how to get the words out. She didn’t know how to say that the same monster that had torn Caitlyn’s mother to shreds had taken up residence in her bones. Had changed her. They weren’t the same teeth, the same claws, but they had the same intention, could shed the same blood.

A sob tore through her, one that reminded Vi much of ones last. A death rattle. Caitlyn’s hot hand was holding her down in a moment, splayed against taut muscle. She was digging through an open first aide kit and searching for titanium prongs, a crease formed between her eyebrows.

“Hold this.”

Caitlyn barked the demand, and a wad of gauze was suddenly shoved into Vi’s mouth, catching on her chapped lips. She bit down so she wouldn’t choke on it. Caitlyn didn’t give a count down. It wasn’t her style. She didn’t coddle, or nurse you through pain that was known to be excruciating.

Instead, she dug the pointed prongs into the wound that was desperate to heal. Vi moaned around the gag, nails slashing even lines into the nearest throw pillow. Her claws were quick to come out, spilling stuffing as tears clouded her vision. Her back arched from the sofa as drool frothed from the corners of her mouth.

Caitlyn had the audacity to shush her like a petulant child. She plowed through the recesses of her injury, the layers of tissue and tendons. The gauze became damp and sticky with pink saliva. The heel of Caitlyn’s free hand was digging painfully into Vi’s shoulder to pin her down.

If Vi hadn’t been blinded by pain, she would relish in the way Caitlyn’s body was slotted against her own, having shifted. A sure knee in between her legs, pressed against her center. They were in a compromising position. Caitlyn’s breath was warm as it splayed across her chest. Vi’s rapid and building.

After a few agonizing moments, the prongs were pulled away and the bullet dropped to the floor with a clatter. Nothing could be heard but the punctuated panting of both women and the crackling of fire eating through logs. They were still. Vi’s teeth clenched and Cait’s hands still splayed near the wound that slowly began to seal itself in front of her disbelieving eyes.

Vi was filled with unrest. Dissatisfaction. Her hands were pinned and her throat was slick with blood. Her skin was buzzing and clarify had hit her like a truck now that the damned bullet had been pulled out. She was naked, vulnerable. And Caitlyn fucking Kiramman was on top of her.

Vi was saying something. Her stupid mouth was saying something, but it was muffled by the gauze, and Caitlyn lifted a shaky hand, pulling it from her lips with blood-soaked hands. “what?”

“Can you get off of me?” her words cracked. “I’m naked, cupcake.”

Caitlyn drew in a sharp breath, flicking her gaze down for an agonizing moment before shifting her weight off Vi. The sensation was immediately missed. A whimper quelled, swallowed along with the metallic taste that lingered on her tongue. Vi scrambled herself, pulling the throw blanket on the back of the sofa around her shoulders and making her hulking frame as small as she possibly could as she curled under the scratchy material.

She reveled in the scent of Caitlyn. Something that had been so oppressing the month before when they spoke in the woods. Now she swam in it. Hell, she wanted to drown in it. The Ranger busied herself with grabbing alcohol wipes from the first aide kit.

When she settled, she did so next to Vi. Their knees touching, as if any type of distance would make her perish. The gesture made her heart pound. It still ached, still fought to heal, but she didn’t’ mind. Caitlyn wordlessly asked for her hand and used her teeth to tear away the paper of the antiseptic wipe.

Vi always had larger hands than Caitlyn. But Caitlyn was nimble and methodic where Vi was clunky and impulsive. Despite the blood that had dried around her nailbeds, Caitlyn started the heavy task of cleaning the dirt and muck away from Vi’s knuckles. Neither of them speaking for a good, long while. She was waiting for Vi to speak, and she would wait for however long it took. She would always wait.

“I black out a lot.”

Caitlyn’s movement’s stilled for a moment. She had cleared most of the blood away from Vi’s left hand and moved on the right. There was a tiny mountain of wipes on the coffee table and the chemical scent was burning both of their lungs. She resumed her work with a committal hum.

“I think it’s a small mercy, really. I don’t want to remember. After that night, I knew something was different about me, but I wanted to attribute it to the grief, to the drinking. To anything other than what I knew was sitting in front of me all along.”

Caitlyn was scrubbing particularly hard at a spot of blood that refused to release itself from Vi’s skin at the base of her palm. Vi gently took the woman’s hands, giving them a squeeze, drawing her attention from the task. Her eyes were red around the edges from exhaustion. From emotion. She sniffed, glowered dangerously at Vi.

“The thing that… took your mother and Powder away from us it” Vi’s voice shattered. She grimaced and looked towards the fire. Tried to clear the emotion from her chest, but couldn’t quick staunch it. Never really could when it came to Caitlyn, so she embraced it instead, stared directly into the eye of the storm as it swirled. “When it bit me, it changed me. I don’t think it had a choice in what it was and I don’t think I have a choice in what I am now.

“This forest needs something to harbor it’s pain, and it breaks my heart more and more every single day that we crossed it’s path that night.” Vi’s head dropped, tears falling into her lap. Her shoulders convulsed. She was shaking, she knew. Too tired to fight them off. “You can hate me, Cait. I’m begging you to hate me. I would hate me.”

Hands were quick to find her cheeks and franticly wipe away at heated tears before patting at her collarbone until she looked up with confusion in her stare. Vi met an expression that was nothing more than stark tenderness, a flat line of a mouth. Caitlyn was calculating. She was exasperated. The look she often carried for Vi.

“Hate you? Why on earth would I hate you Vi?”

“I… I couldn’t stop it. I became it.”

“Darling,”

It was the subtle shake of her head, the gentleness of the single word, the quiet acceptance in her eyes. Everything combined. Vi crumbled. She fell forward and into Caitlyn’s arms. The Ranger let out a huff of air but accepted her all the same. She did not hesitate to pull her close, Vi’s ear pressed against Caitlyn’s stomach as she buried her head into the woman’s lap.

“None of this is your fault.” Caitlyn soothed, working her fingers through the mess of pink hair. “You hear me?”

Vi continued to sob, tightening her grip around Caitlyn’s center. She cried until her throat was sore. Breathing the woman in, relishing in the way her fingers felt as they gently pressed against her scalp. She whispered soothing words to her. Held her tightly, ran a hand over her bare spine and the scar of a bite that had never quite healed.

When the fire had turned into nothing but a dull flicker of orange, Caitlyn still harboring all the warmth either of them would ever need, Vi turned and stared up at her. There was a fondness in the woman’s stare. A curiosity there that she knew she’d have to atone for when she wouldn’t need to grip so hard to keep herself grounded.

“I need you to promise me something.”

Caitlyn knit her brows, swallowing hard. She brushed a strand of hair from Vi’s red-rimmed eyes. Her hand was trembling. Vi never wanted to move from this spot, from the warm comfort of the rangers lap, her nose pushed into her stomach where she could make sure she was breathing with ease.

“If you ever see me with a certain look in my eyes Cait, I need you to fire more than a warning shot. I need you to shoot to kill. I know you can.”

She opened and closed her mouth, teeth clanging together in a noise that should have been painful. Her hand curled into a fist against Vi’s bare abdomen, nails scratching lightly on marred skin. She huffed, but didn’t’ say a word. She didn’t trust herself to. It wasn’t the time to ramble, and both of them knew it.

“You’ll know it when you see it.” Vi clenched her eyes shut, burying her face deeper into Cait’s embrace. “You’re an okay shot.”

Caitlyn leaned her head back, letting out an unsteady sigh, her gaze lingering on the cold hearth, the fire long-dead and the Winchester’s silhouette looming as it sat propped in it’s usual place. “I’m an excellent shot.”

[vigilskept]

Saw your tags on the last few posts and hard agree! Between the ever present Fen'harel foreshadowing AND Sandal's prophecy AND Mythal's reckoning? It always seemed like the Veil coming down was that proper big bang finish that would rewrite all the rules in a satisfying and interesting way. One of my issues with Veilgaurd is I feel like it took the series' opportunity for a destinct ending away. Personally, I believe good stories end. I don't want 30 DA games in a MCU verse. And now, to have the series end they have to come up with a stopping point that makes more sense than the Veil. Or revisit the Veil. And what would be the point in that when they wasted all the foreshadowing?

yes, exactly!! i felt like i was going insane on my soapbox there, thank you!! it really feels like they ran up against the natural end point for the franchise and just decided to do a little shimmy around it. i just don't see what exactly that achieves except to set up a new, bigger bad which we have no real stake in.

was i curious about the executors prior to veilguard? yes! but i expected them to appear in this game since they clearly had an interest in solas' plans!! not for them to have 3 completely missable interactions followed by the worst idea of a post credit scene i've ever seen. whatever curiosity i had about what they were up to & how the kossith relate to what's across the sea is pretty much gone at this point.

a "shadowy cabal" who's secretly responsible for all of the evil enacted in this world by people in power is not a plot i care to see play out in bioware's hands. it's a stupid, elders of zion ass direction to take things and was not worth trashing over a decade of build up.

there is nowhere they could take that plot thread (already relying on the worst possible trope...) that would give dragon age a more satisfying conclusion than dropping the veil.

it would've resolved or set up a potential resolution for all of the major conflicts that have been established up to now!! (mages under the chantry, tevene class structure/slavery, oppression of elves, the blights, the waking titans, etc. etc. i could go on!)

and with the way veilguard ends... it looks to me like they wanted to somehow get the implied resolutions that would come out of dropping the veil without committing to it. that's why no matter what you do, dorian or mae will become archon and singlehandedly restructure tevinter society. the load bearing piece of "mageocracy can't function if everyone's a mage now" is gone, so we have to have a poorly executed sideplot to resolve this plot thread for us instead...

i'm sure people will feel differently, but i personally would've found it more satisfying if the veil fell and the franchise wrapped up there. for good or ill, it changes everything and we can all have the time of our lives speculating about the Implications thereafter.

if they really wanted to(/needed to promise EA they could) make more games in this setting — they could've gone backwards! there's lots of stories you could tell throughout thedas in the gap between the fifth blight and solas' ritual! there's lots of stories you could tell about the centuries between andraste's rebellion and the fifth blight! there's so much happening in the background here that they've hinted at through codices that if they really wanted more content in this setting, there is so much room to expand on those.

could they set up world shattering events like "tearing down the veil" again? no. but i think that was a very obvious one and done situation, and i don't think anyone came into this franchise expecting their dragon age games to have stakes that apocalyptic until trespasser! i think there absolutely would've absolutely been an audience for a game about the assassination of queen madrigal or the fog warriors' resistance on seheron if they hadn't fumbled this....

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

The trying to see if he can get Chen Zhongli back and the holding the body hostage thing feels like it comes a bit out of nowhere. If I remember correctly he even talked about how he doubts he survived because of the drowning death. Can you explain a bit of his thought process here? Cuz it feels a bit left field. I love the chapter and I will be going insane about it. But I’m still a bit confused where this thought came from. Zhongli in general here feels… very willing to die though. So I suppose it isn’t too surprising

i think the reason it feels out of left field for you might be because you're remembering that very scene you pointed out wrong

the 'doubts he survived bc of the drowning death' scene isn't like. about czl not surviving. that scene is about how zl is of the belief that czl can't be in his teyvat bc his body explodes upon death, n so there would be no body for czl to go to there specifically if it were a bodyswap scenario. the 'he would just die again bc i drowned' bit was him trying to tell the others how it wouldn't be possible without spilling the beans about there being no body to swap into. he's not lying about czl drowning again if he were to spawn in zl's body while it's at the bottom of the ocean, but the issue here is (and this is what he wanted to omit from the others): that there is no body. at least there isn't supposed to be one.

not to mention that scene was on the scenario were it is indeed a bodyswap situation, which zl is fairly convinced it isn't

genuinely i think i've been p thorough on keeping zl straight on the fact that he doesn't actually know wtf happened to czl (in the terms of like. where his soul is. obv he knows now what happened to him as in how he died lol). please the rest of you correct me if i'm wrong if i ever slipped up n gave that impression, but as far as the story has gotten rn, zl has no idea where czl is. he has no clue. the only things he does know about that issue is that 1) he's not in the body with him and 2) he's not in his body in his teyvat bc. again. no body

so uh yeah

[romans8-28]

Prayer request for my cashiers and baggers. One bagger has been quite hostile with my other employees and has been really trying to pick fights with them. Brought this to management’s attention and hoping something comes of it.

[commsroom]

eiffel returning to earth and encountering people and places and things that he's known so closely for years - that some part of him might even instinctively feel he should recognize - but without the ability to consciously remember them vs. lovelace returning to earth and seeing all those familiar things and knowing them, and knowing how they've changed in her absence, but being unable to shake the part of her that keeps telling her she's seeing them for the first time. how both of these could be used as an exploration of trauma, and returning to a place (that hasn't changed at all; that's changed too much) that you no longer fit into; that rubs up against the changed shape of your life in raw and uncomfortable places.

[s0fter-sin]

what up it's been 12 years and i'm still pissed there was no consequence to dean being in constant survival mode and fighting 24/7 in purgatory

what do you mean he didn't become a god at hand to hand combat? what do you mean he could still be jumped by random ass demons?

he was - at best - in a constant in-between state meaning he didn't get hungry or tired but that also means he didn’t sleep for a year and was constantly being hunted by hundreds of thousands of monsters that want to eat him specifically, while actively searching for cas

OR he was in a completely normal state meaning he was constantly fighting starvation and exhaustion while all of that was still happening!! it's not like there's much to scavenge in monster heaven!! he would’ve been on the verge of dying for a year!!!

then he comes back and he's just exactly the same? the same level of fighting skill he's always had? if not slightly worse for some reason?? what do you mean he couldn't kill anything he came across with his eyes closed when it's what he's been doing EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR???

it's always been one of the flaws of a show running for so long that after like s6 they never seemed to be getting better? they still got the shit kicked out of them by demons and ghosts and what have you and instead of finding obscure rituals they just got A Better Gun™️

both sam and dean are the peak of what hunters can be; they've been trained to hunt and kill things bigger and stronger than them since they were children, so what do you mean they still get the shit kicked out of them so often? was it just to show how strong monsters are? that even with their level of experience and skill, they're still outmatched?

(or do you just need a way to keep up the tension cough cough what who said that)

but you can't have dean who's been trained to be an elite soldier Since He Was Four Years Old go into a 360 combat scenario for an entire year - a good chunk of which he was completely by himself - then say he didn't improve his combat skills At All

and not even just combat, his senses would've been off the charts!! there was nothing but ambient forest noise and growling, his hearing would've gotten so sharp, it was darker so his night vision would ve been insane and he should've been able to feel a monster coming a mile away after constantly being on guard

post purgatory dean had the opportunity to be a completely different beast to anything we'd ever seen before, to be a completely different kind of traumatised from all of his other trauma

hell broke him but purgatory should've broken and rebuilt him into something Terrifying

[spacelesscowboy]

truthfully while i enjoy billford and fiddauthor i think they’re much more fun as like. lightning in a bottle moments. weird built up tension that neither side acknowledges. but It’s There.

and 30 years later ford is shooting up in bed wide eyed and sweating going. oh my god i was in love w them. while both bill and fiddleford moved on LONG before ford even realized what was happening.

[pangzi]

Since I started rewatching Wandee Goodday, I've been wondering if they'll connect the causes of the deaths of YakDee's parents with each other in any way. Seeing that their parents are all well and alive in the novel, I'm extra 🧐 about it.

[altschmerzes]

here’s another thought i have on the finale which isn’t very high stakes but has been driving me Fucking Nuts:

re: the fight between jamie and roy about keeley. i thought it was stupid and lazy writing that did a disservice to everything else that dynamic was and encompassed. there was so much more there and THAT was how we closed it out eh? like kudos to her for going ‘uh, no’ and kicking them out, that was a good call, but the whole thing sucked so bad generally and wasted time we could’ve spent doing literally anything other than the most cliche, juvenile, classic ‘women are a prize for men to fight over’ thing. however what’s annoying me even more is the way people who DID like it are responding to people who didn’t.

i keep seeing people be like “ACTUALLY them fighting over her was fine and normal youre all just babies who can’t handle that sometimes people REGRESS and sometimes people are MEAN and UNFAIR and UNKIND” and it’s like nah man it’s because they avoided doing this shit entirely for three fucking years and then were like do you want the cliche love triangle bullshit you dodged the whole time heaped on you at the last second when it makes the least sense? sure, here you go!

is it regression if it’s something they never did in the first place? i think not! and characters can be mean and unfair and cruel and whatever and it’s not the end of the world, i actually think it’s very interesting, and THAT’S not the part i find out of character, it’s that they literally never did this before and now after EVERYTHING else, after how clear it was how gravely fucking serious jamie was about the video leak, this is the kind of shit they’re throwing at each other about this? after repeatedly subverting expectations of classic love triangle nonsense? it’s tired and it’s lazy and it’s the cheapest option and nobody is gonna be able to change my mind by telling me i just don’t understand that People Can Be Unfair Sometimes.

[cruelsister-moved2]

yeah just constantly realising how much ppl who are attracted to men can genuinely not comprehend just. truly not being and how much thats at the root of every stupid discourse about lesbians because you think we're repressed or lying or gatekeeping & our sexuality is based on exclusion and misery rather than believing that we are actually pursuing joy & pleasure and are just very aware of where that joy and pleasure isnt found for us. because you never reached the stage of development that involves recognising other people's interior lives are different from your own and you're so used to living in a world that revolves wholly around men and their approval you genuinely believe we're lying when we say we're not interested. kill yourself

[nogchompa]

i bet it feels good as fuck to release emotions thru music. would luv 2 try it one day

[kohakhearts]

crazy how you can actually scroll back through this blog (DO NOT do it. its not worth the psychic damage of being witness to a teenager with a personality disorder and no solid irl support system making posts on the internet) and see me complaining about school and now my posts about school are like so the funniest thing happened at school today- (i.e. i am no longer tormented by the demons of adolescence but by the adolescent demons, who are actually hilarious and endearing and incredibly sweet even when they blow up at me and hate my guts and want to rip me to shreds for committing the cardinal sin of caring about their educations)

[favroitecrime]

god send the flood they’re on twitter and tiktok calling people pleasing harmful manipulation and comparing icing in a cake to sexual assault. and they’ve got licensed therapists agreeing with them. no no, they’ve got licensed therapists making these analogies for them. i hope that man chokes on the next cake he bites into.

[thedailyvio]

Yearly recap and future plans

I don't believe I missed any days this year, but I still need to figure out why my day count was 1 off at some point.

I had a lot less time this year to dedicate to art, and there was a lot of stagnation because of it.

I'm picking a little at beginning to do some studies and style exploration, so I hope I can get more into that in '24

I didn't get a chance to do Any of last years goals very much, so here's to hoping '24 will pan out better.

As per the poll listed earlier this year (I was told there was 1 misclick) it looks like the plan for future posting will be:

Post days for the week will be on.... tentatively? Friday.

I will queue them across the length of the day.

Hopefully I can get back to a position where daily posting is possible, but for now I want to commit to something I can at least do consistently

(Not even sure yet if I will be able to be consistent with this, but will see)

[werewolfest]

Truthfully I need to just make an our flag sideblog so I can be more obnoxious but I’m not ready to break down yet