#thanks for playing!^^

[adozentothedawn]

17, 18 for the fic writer asks!

Ask Game

17. talk about your writing and editing process

If I'm lucky I get struck by lightining, which is when I can actually get something done. Meaning moments when I have very specific ideas of what the hell I want to write. Most of the time that lightening unfortunately leaves before I'm done and then I have to struggle my way through the rest.

The editing happens either when i am actually done or when I just cannot for the life of me keep going. Sometimes it helps to just read what's already there and try to fix that.

18. if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

I don't really delete a lot of complete stuff in the first place and what I delete I usually don't keep, but. I do have an entire scene from my Waidwen has friends fic that I still haven't finished that will not be in the completed version once I finally get back to that chapter. I intended to make a fic called something like "Forgotten Sanctum Archives" or something for stuff like this but since I don't have a lot I never got to it.

Do keep in mind that the following bit is largely unedited for style.

Broder stepped into the stables, wearing a simple tunic and pants and a rough cloak, under which his sword was hidden, already suspecting what it was Waidwen wanted to do and dreading it. Not because he thought it would be particularly dangerous, but because he was certain it wouldn’t work as the younger man was imagining. He walked past the stalls, most of them empty as they and their riders were rushing all over the country, delivering messages and orders, and stopped in front of the last one right in the back, which seemed as empty as the rest. Quiet meowing came from the stall and Broder pushed the gate open.

Inside sat Waidwen, covered in kittens. A larger cat that had to be the mother lounged in his lap, as three smaller ones were sprawled all over him, one on his head, one on his shoulders, and another one trying to climb his chest and digging its little claws into the fabric of his shirt. Waidwen himself was petting the larger cat with one hand, while holding up the little adventurer on his chest with the other, all the while wearing the largest grin Broder had ever seen on him. It was adorable.

Broder almost regretted it when Waidwen noticed him and his grin diminished somewhat.

“It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for a while,” he said, carefully plucking off the kitten stuck to his shirt and putting it to the ground, quickly followed by its siblings. The mother cat yawned heartily and jumped off his lap, trotting over to her young.

“I’m sure it was terribly agonizing,” Broder declared with a smile. Waidwen sent him the most deadpan look Broder could imagine and he had to suppress a snort. “Now that I’m here though, why am I here?” He still had the vague hope that he wrong.

“You’re here because I want to go into town, and I promised you I wouldn’t go alone anymore.” With that declaration Waidwen gave each kitten one last scratch and got up from his place in the hay, brushing off the stems stuck his pants and then crossed his arms in anticipation.

Broder sighed. That was what he’d been worried about. At seeing his reaction, the young narrowed his eyes and glared at Broder, posture becoming defensive.

“And what are you sighing for now? I promised not to go alone, so you’re coming with me. That was the deal.” His words were sharper than they’d been since that incident back in Midrun and Broder knew he had to step carefully now. Apparently he’d unintentionally hit a nerve.

“I know, and I’ll keep to it, I promise. If you want to go, we’ll go. I’m just not sure what you’re hoping to accomplish.”

“What I’m hoping to accomplish is to get away from the bootlickers for a day.” Broder was very tempted to sigh again, but bit it back. Once again it showed that Waidwen didn’t realize the full extent of his influence. How good then that Broder had come prepared.

“Alright then,” he agreed and held out the second coat he’d carried over his arm until then. It was just as rough as his own with a bland grey colour, and about as inconspicuous as a coat could be. At least he didn’t have to worry about the rest of Waidwen’s clothes, as the young man had never really gotten out of the habit of wearing his old farmers clothes and had to be forced into anything more formal. The only thing his chamberlain had been able to reasonably accomplish was to keep his clothes clean and whole, instead of having him wear the overly patched clothes of his past.

Waidwen took the cloak, still hesitant and throwing Broder a questioning look, but already calmer than before the assurance.

“If you want any chance to not be overrun by a mob of excited worshippers, I highly recommend putting that on. If anyone recognizes you, there will be a commotion.” Waidwen didn’t seem particularly convinced, but apparently his desire to argue was outweighed by his desire to just get out already, which Broder could hardly blame him for. There was a reason Broder had left home to try his luck as a mercenary instead of staying and working his way up in the military to a commanding position like his parents had wanted him to.

Once Waidwen had pulled on the cloak, Broder had to admit he was impressed. For whatever reason Waidwen seemed to have already mastered the art of hidden hiding. His hood was pulled down just enough to cast a subtle shadow on his face, obscuring his features enough to make it impossible to identify him without blatant staring, while showing his face enough to not make it seem like he was actively hiding.

“Can we go now, or do you need to mother me some more?” Waidwen asked, as dry as one could. Try as he might, Broder couldn’t figure out why someone who was apparently so convinced of his own insignificance to other people would know how to disguise himself so well.

Both because he wanted to make an attempt at pacifying his king’s annoyance and because he just genuinely wanted to, he knelt down petted the mother cat. He wasn’t stupid enough to try and pet the young, he liked his hand unscratched, thank you very much. He had no doubt that Waidwen had spent many hours here before to win the mother’s trust.

When he was done, Broder got up, smiled his broadest smile, and said: “Yes, I’m done now.”

At first Waidwen still looked miffed, his displeasure even visible under the hood, but after a few seconds of glaring and Broder’s unbroken smile he relented, huffed and turned around to leave, urgency quickening his steps.

Not wanting to be left behind, Broder quickly followed, always staying one step behind. He’d promised Waidwen some space, and though he would have to stay around, there was no reason to crowd him. Let him have the peace as long as he could, Broder doubted it would hold for long.

They made their way into the city through the servants��� entrance without any issues. The few servants they passed didn’t so much as glance at them, and the door itself wasn’t locked. Neither was the gate. Broder frowned and reminded himself to tighten security as soon as they were back. A hole like this was just begging to be exploited.

Outside the walls Waidwen stopped again, looking towards the near line of houses. The cloak obscured most of him, only revealing the placement of his shoulders and him as humanoid, and yet Broder could tell even from behind the significant amount of tension that had seemingly evaporated.

[noodles-and-tea]

[evilgoodguys]

caught them doing the SIN, cos, tan (bad trigonometry joke, I'm sorry, you have permission to euthanize me)

bonus:

[graegrape]

let's be bad at video games together

[arcanegifs]

Nightmare on Reroll Street: Part 2 | Into the Arcane Launch Cinematic - Teamfight Tactics

[dameronalone]

oh gee discord should I try adding numbers? should I try that???? should I try adding numbers to the end of my username so that it's individualized and only mine???? should I try adding numbers??????????

[et-in-arkadia]

this is such incredible advice for creating any kind of art i have to put it over here to remind myself

[lilacxquartz]

love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

[blackkatdraws2]

[Toon x Mobster] drawn for fun, he doesn't know how to hold that thing wwwwww

[arcane-gold]

hello rookanis nation. can i present rel and lucanis’s dynamic. sun and moon trope, one with boundless energy and one who gets 2 hours of sleep a night, guy i pulled by being an idiot, etc. they’re special to me

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy one year anniversary to In Stars and Time!

[adozentothedawn]

You have a reputation for being unashamedly excited about what you love and for being kind enough to share that excitement with the rest of us! And for never missing opportunities to let us know when we've helped cultivate or inspire some of that excitement, which is always so lovely to hear.

Ask is here

Awww thank you!^^ I do like gushing about things as I'm sure you've noticed by my latest stream of babbling about Ambition. xD And I'm glad you like my little catch ups! I do really appreciate the cool new things I've learnt from people here.

[mf-artdump]

I've been playing Splatoon since the very first game. And seeing my playable character in the first game reappear and grow in Splatoon 2 and 3, makes my heart clench with bittersweet joy because I grew up with them.

Splatoon grew and I also grew and I couldn't be happier to grow up together.

Thank you for the maritime memories.

[hinamie]

I'm always pushing you away from me / but you come back with gravity / and when I call, you come home

[akanemnon]

Shouldn't there be a minotaur in the labyrinth? Who put this goat here? This is not accurate to the mythology! /j

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MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[dailyralsei]