#they use good songs in this i love the use of white rabbit too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

perotovar · 11 months ago

Text

ásjá - a winter solstice story

Ásjá by Heilung (i highly recommend listening to this while reading)

Our second single release is a love song. Maria sings to the listener of love, recovery and prosperity, chasing away evil and welcoming love. The piece contains a quotation of some lines of “Hávamál”, combined with a selection of blessing words meant to provide help to the listener in a troubled time. Kai brought his vocal part of 'Asja' back to us after a month of isolation, fasting and meditation in nature. Only the spirits know the full meaning, but we do know that the context is love, prosperity and protection.

pairing: pero tovar/ofc!helga (but this is mostly a character study) rating: T word count: 7.4k (idk what happened here) warnings: minor swearing, google translated spanish (sorry), historical inaccuracies in favor of fantasy/magic, my american norse pagan perspective of these practices, if i missed anything else lemme know! dividers by @saradika-graphics beta and norwegian translations by the lovely @chloeangelic thank you, honey ♥

summary: Pero picks up a contract that leads him "somewhere up North", but what he finds instead is unlike anything he imagined for himself. Or, what would happen if Pero encountered the Vikings during their winter celebration?

this is apart of @hellishjoel's 12 days of pedro. thank you for including me, kylee, and make sure you all read the other presents!

god jól, everyone🌲❄️🌙🐺

It was fucking cold.

With shaking hands and numb limbs, Pero made his way further up the hill. The wind picked up the further he went into the trees.

The contract he’d taken up was for a man by the name of Ingvar. A strange name to Pero’s ears, but that hardly mattered to him. This Ingvar was to be taken care of, and Pero had to show proof.

Not a problem.

The problem, at least for the moment, was the fucking weather and his own lack of foresight. He was told that Ingvar was “somewhere up North”, and that was it. He didn’t exactly plan for just how cold it would be. His fingers were going numb and red, and he saw every breath that left his lungs. If William were here, he’d tell Pero to quit his “bitching” and to make camp.

The camp, he could do. The bitching? Unlikely.

Pero and William separated after the… events in China. They stayed together to do a few jobs together, but William decided to make his way back to China and meet up with Lin Mae again, possibly even settle down. Pero didn’t fancy seeing the people that had arrested and almost killed him, and black powder wasn’t worth the trouble anymore. At least not to him. He rather liked the uncertainty of his job. Found comfort in it, in fact. His future was set for him in this line of work. He would live doing the things he loved most; fighting, fucking, and drinking. And the ending was always the same. At least, that’s what he told himself.

A low whisper brought Pero out of his thoughts. He snapped his head towards the direction of the sound and furrowed his already heavy brow. The sound of a raven cawing caught his attention, making him hum skeptically to himself before deciding this was as good a spot as any for a fire.

Once settled on a fallen tree and attempting to warm his hands with his meager fire, Pero dug into his travel pack. He grumbled at the pitiful excuse for food he had left. He grabbed a piece of thick, dry bread and started ripping off chunks and eating that. Perhaps he could hunt? Find a rabbit, or something a little bigger. He remembered to make a bow this time. Swallowing the last chunk of the bread, he picked up his bow and arrows, and threw his cloak-slash-blanket over his shoulders. It was going to be dark soon, and he didn’t like the idea of starving his first night in this frozen Northern hell.

Another whisper.

Pero’s body went taut. He looked between the tall trees and the endless sea of white ahead of him. Nothing. A rabbit hopped by, distracting him. Before he could think too hard, he knocked an arrow and let fly. The arrow landed in the snow just after the rabbit hopped away.

“Mierda,” he grumbled. (Shit.)

He crouched low and slowly followed after the rabbit. He made his way toward a small clearing, which seemed to be in the center of the forest, if his tracking skills were getting any better.

There was a large stone in the middle, towards the top of the clearing. There looked to be a large blood stain in the center of it. Pero raised a brow and grunted quietly. This was none of his business, clearly.

Suddenly, the rabbit made its way to the middle of the clearing, next to the large stone. Pero sighed and lined up a shot, hoping for the best. He released a breath at the same time that the arrow left his fingers, and another whisper passed through his ears.

He gasped quietly and time seemed to stop as the arrow traveled through the cold air. A shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the weather. He closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath, trying to make himself as still as possible.

The sound of the arrow piercing the rabbit startled him out of his frozen state. He blinked a few times, the white forest coming back into view as he looked down at the dead rabbit in the clearing. He exhaled and slowly stood, settling his bow on his shoulder. He looked around again, and when he saw nothing, slowly made his way down the hill and towards the center of the clearing.

He picked up the dead rabbit and removed the arrow, tucking it into his belt to clean and use again later. Standing in the center of the clearing, he looked over at the bloodstained stone and felt that shiver go down his spine again. He looked up at the gray sky and decided it was time to go back to his camp. He hooked the rabbit’s carcass onto his belt, pulled the cloak over his shoulders tighter, and shoved his hands inside the fabric.

“Maldita nieve,” he grumbled to himself. (Fucking snow.) As he climbed back up the hill, he felt a sharp pain in his foot and lost his balance, catching himself with his hands in the snow. He hissed loudly and looked down at his boot. A small spike was poking out through the top, meaning the sharp rock was piercing through his foot. He groaned and leaned against the hill, steadying his breathing. He counted to three in his head and yanked the rock from his foot. “Fuck,” he exhaled loudly, a few drops of his own blood covering his palm as he looked at the rock. A small symbol was carved into it, making him squint his eyes, trying to decipher what it was. Pero shook his head and sighed, pocketing the strange rock to inspect later.

On his way back to his little camp, limping the whole way to not put too much pressure on his foot, he grabbed some branches to make the fire last a little longer. Once the meager fire came into view, he swore he saw someone sitting on the log he was using before. He froze in place, heavy boots landing in the snow abruptly. He squinted his eyes and grew confused. An old man? What would he be doing out here?

Pero looked around the frozen forest to see if there was anyone that could be with the old man. When he didn’t see anyone, he looked back at the campfire, and the old man was gone. He’d completely vanished. Pero grunted quietly and rubbed his eyes with frozen fingers. He shook his head to snap himself out of it and made his way over to the campfire.

After putting the rabbit on the spit and it started to cook, Pero made his bed for the night. He’d do his best to sleep, but didn’t have high hopes. Once the rabbit was cooked, he stabbed it with his knife and started eating it messily. He groaned at the taste of fresh, hot, cooked meat and enjoyed it, even if it was pretty bland. It warmed his bones a little and made him more comfortable, pulling the cloak tighter around his shoulders.

The sound of a branch snapping behind him went unnoticed by Pero’s ears, too focused on the food. He hadn’t eaten in days. The second snap, however, was heard, and it made him drop the rabbit onto the ground and grab his sword, brandishing it in front of him as he stood.

“¿Dónde estás, bastardo?” He grumbled under his breath, his heavy breaths puffing out into smoke. (Where are you, bastard?)

He sighed in frustration when he didn’t see anything. He was seriously starting to consider if this contract was even worth it. And if it wasn’t, would he be able to make it back without dying? Either from the cold, or whatever it was that was playing with him. He mumbled obscenities to himself and sat back down on his fallen tree.

He picked up the rabbit and groaned at the dirt now covering it. He blew off what he could and decided to continue eating it, dirt be damned. He was hungry.

Once full, he looked up at the moon in the sky, trying to figure out how late it was. He rubbed his hands over his arms to keep warm and added a branch or two to his fire. He grabbed a piece of spare cloth from his travel pack and quickly wrapped his foot. He laid down next to the fire and pulled the cloak up over his shoulders and shut his eyes. He didn’t feel tired, but he couldn’t help closing his eyes. He tried to fight it, to keep his guard up, but it was useless.

He started to feel lightheaded and turned onto his back, looking up at the moon again. The moon and the stars, so bright he almost didn’t need the campfire, were swirling around and moving in close and further away. The trees surrounding him looked to be moving side to side.

What was happening? Did the old man poison him somehow? Who was that old man?

His vision went blurry and he felt like he was spinning in place despite laying on the ground, completely still. He let out a weak groan and tried to move, reaching for his sword.

The last thing he saw before his vision went black, was the silhouette of a large dog, or perhaps a wolf, in the distance hidden behind the trees.

Warmth. He felt warm. And a pounding headache.

Pero slowly blinked awake and groaned at the light that hit his eyes. The smell of cooked meat and root vegetables hit his nostrils. His stomach whined in protest.

“For en merkelig fyr…” An older male voice said, somewhere behind him. (He is a strange one…)

“Kjekk, da,” A younger, female voice replied. (Handsome, though.)

He didn’t understand any of it. It wasn’t a language he’d heard before. Eyelids fluttering, he slowly opened his eyes to a small gathering of people all looking down at him. He startled and reached for his knife, and grunted when he didn’t feel it.

“Vi har våpnene dine. De er trygge.” (We have your weapons. They’re safe.)

Pero turned his head in the direction of the voice and squinted his eyes at the woman. She looked to be in her 30s, with a baby attached to her breast and drinking.

“No entiendo,” he grumbled, voice hoarse from lack of use. “¿Dónde estoy?” (I do not understand. Where am I?)

He took in his surroundings, now sitting up, and saw that he looked to be in a small room cut off from a much larger group of people. He heard laughter and song outside the cloth separating the, assumed, larger hall from where he was now. He furrowed his brows. A celebration? What for?

“¿Dónde estoy?” He repeated, voice slightly harsher. (Where am I?)

“Har ikke hørt det språket før,” one of the men said. (Haven’t heard that tongue before.) Pero looked up at him and squinted his eyes slightly. The man was large, with a full beard, and an even fuller middle. But there was no denying his strength; age hadn’t stopped this man from doing well in a fight, Pero assumed. Not that he couldn’t take him, of course. He looked at the man’s belt and saw a one-handed axe attached to his belt and thought better of it, especially without his own weapons.

Suddenly a small sting came from his foot and he snapped his head down at the young woman tending to the wound he’d gotten on his way back from the clearing. He’d almost completely forgotten about it, too cold to even really feel it. The young woman startled and blushed, keeping her head down as she cleaned the cut.

“Det er et vakkert språk, da, er det ikke?” The first younger woman’s voice came through, a slightly entranced tone to it. (It is a beautiful tongue, though, no?) He looked to his left and saw her batting her eyelashes at him. He huffed a breath in amusement. He’d had his fair share of women giving him looks like that, almost always with a payment in mind, but his thoughts were elsewhere, even if it did feel nice. And she was a tad too skinny for his own tastes.

Pero exhaled. This was clearly getting nowhere. Fine. “Where am I? You know English, yes?” He asked, exasperated, in the general direction of anyone who might be able to answer him.

The shy girl cleaning his wound lifted her head and smiled softly at him. “I know a little,” she said quietly, her voice heavily accented.

“Finally,” he sighed. “What is going on?”

“A few of our men found you in the forest, passed out. Your lips were blue.” She won’t make eye contact with him, bur her brows furrowed like she was worried for him. “We have lost some of our own men in a similar way before. It is not pretty.”

Pero hummed softly and nodded his thanks. “Did any of them see an old man? In the woods?”

The girl tilted her head and asked the man next to him, the one with the axe in his belt, if any of them had seen such a man. The man raised a brow and shook his head, looking at Pero skeptically.

“Ingvar says–”

“Yes, I understood, thank you–” Pero cut himself off and looked back at the man with the axe. This was Ingvar? Pero looked back at the girl and nodded his head as she bandaged his wound, his own cloth wrapped around his ankle. He would have to be careful if he was to carry out this contract. “Thank you,” he repeated, the words foreign on his tongue.

The girl nodded, cheeks pink, and stood to leave. As she left, the cloth covering them moved to show a large fire in the middle of the hall with an even larger feast around it. The girl came back with a tankard of something for him and he took it gratefully. As the sweet liquid hit his tongue, he coughed slightly.

“What is this?” He wheezed a little, looking at the cup like it slapped his mother.

The girl giggled before saying, “Mead. It is honey wine.”

Pero rolled the words around his tongue for a moment. “Interesante,” he hummed to himself. (Interesting.)

“Vel, han er våken. Tilby ham noe å spise, men hold øye på ham. Han ser ut som en leiesoldat, og jeg stoler ikke på ham,” Ingvar grunted, leaving the room and rejoining the festivities. (Well, he is up. Invite him to eat, but keep an eye on him. He looks like a mercenary and I do not trust him.)

Pero watched him closely as he left, and took another drink of his mead, eyes hard.

“Would you like some food, mister-”

“Tovar,” Pero grunted. “Yes. I am very hungry.” He turned on the cot and got to his feet quickly, but quickly lost his balance, a couple of the women catching him as he stood on shaky legs. He sighed in frustration and stood on his own, shrugging off their help. The girl held her arm out to him, and didn’t seem too offended when he just stared at it.

“Tovar. This way,” she smiled, her face a little pinched.

“What are you celebrating?” He asked, looking around at all the food. His stomach roared at the smells.

“It is the third night of Jól. You have heard of Jól?” She asked excitedly, turning to him as she found a place for him to sit. He slowly made his way down at a long table nearby where Ingvar sat at the head of the table. A leader. This contract was getting more difficult by the second.

“I have not,” he grumbled. “What is this… Yool?”

The girl giggled again, this time at his attempt at the word. “Jól is the celebration that welcomes back the sun from the harsh Winter. Our crops start growing as the sun comes back, and the snow melts away.”

Pero hummed as he listened, nodding his thanks when she handed him a full plate of different meats, root vegetables, bread, and cheese. “You are farmers?”

The girl nods. “Most of us. Some are warriors.”

Pero hummed again, chewing on a piece of meat. “How did you learn English?”

The girl turned a little sad, but smiled anyway. “We used to have a man that came from… Eng-land? He died last year,” she sighed. “He taught me and a few of the children how to read and speak English. How did you learn?”

Pero frowned around his food and sighed.

“I am sorry, forget–” Pero held up a hand to stop her. “Apologies. I am… unused to kindness from strangers,” he grunted, not meeting her eyes. “A dear friend of mine is from Scotland. We have separated so he could be with his woman. He taught me.”

“Scotland?”

“It is near England.”

She nodded, slowly picking at her own food. The two of them grew quiet and just ate for a while. The celebrations continued around them, and it gave Pero a chance to take it all in.

In the center of the hall was a large hearth, with an even larger tree in the middle, lighting up the hall. It looked like the one he was using earlier as a bench, so they must have gotten it from the same forest. He can’t be too far from there, then. There were candles and flames everywhere, lighting up the hall brightly, but warmly.

He looked back at the girl and found her already staring at him. She startled, cheeks going pink again, and looked down at her food. He smirked a little, but hid it well. She was amusing.

“What is your name?” He asked.

“Sigrid,” she said softly.

“It sounds strong.”

“Yes. I am more drawn to medicine, so I suppose the name is ironic.”

Pero chuckled. “Hardly.”

Sigrid smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of them again before Pero asked, “Who is Ingvar? He seems like a powerful man.”

“He is our Jarl. Our leader.”

“Is this like a king?” Pero furrowed his brows. He didn’t think this contract would be finished.

“Not exactly. But no less powerful.”

“I see,” Pero grunted. As if on cue, Ingvar stood from his seat at the head of the table, a large grin on his bearded face.

“Venner! Kvelden er ung, og festen er rik. Vær så snill, nyt, for mine gamle beindekk. Jeg ser dere alle i morgen tidlig.” Everyone raised their drinks and shouted… something, but Pero didn’t catch it. Sigrid leaned over and translated what Ingvar said for him. He nodded his thanks, but he was skeptical at best. Ingvar left through a door behind the throne that sat in the center of the hall. (Friends! The night is young, and the feast bountiful. Please, enjoy, for my old bones tire. I will see you all in the morning.)

“He cannot be that old, no?”

“He has been around much longer than I,” Sigrid shrugged. Pero laughed softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“You are a child, of course he has.”

Sigrid rolled her eyes, but didn’t deny it. “If seventeen winters makes me a child, then yes.”

Pero choked on his mead and hit his chest to keep from coughing too hard. “Yes, it does,” he wheezed, laughing quietly. Sigrid laughed, too, eating some bread and cheese. A small child ran up to Sigrid and asked her a question as he tugged on her dress. Sigrid looked back at Pero apologetically and he waved her off, eating some more meat.

This was hardly the setting he expected for himself when he took the contract, but he couldn’t deny it, it was a pleasant one. The food was good, and the people seemed friendly enough. He couldn’t help but be confused by the contract; who was dumb enough to put a hit out on a powerful leader like Ingvar?

Sigrid mentioned that some of them were warriors. That didn’t surprise him at all. Just by looking at the people around the table, men and women alike, he could’ve figured that out on his own.

He sighed to himself and chewed thoughtfully. Suddenly, he remembered the small stone that pierced his foot. He looked around at the people around him to be sure no one was watching before he felt around his pocket for the stone. When he didn’t feel anything, his body went taut and he froze. Shit. They probably found it when they grabbed his weapons. Where were his weapons?

Sigrid came up to his side with the small child from before holding her hand and looking at him from behind her. “Tovar?” She asked softly. He looked up at her, heavy brow still pulled down. She gave him a quick once-over before clearing her throat. “We have sleeping quarters for you, but Lord Ingvar wishes to speak with you first.”

Pero chuckled humorlessly around his food before putting it down on his plate. He grabbed the mead and took a drink, making a face at the taste. He wasn’t sure he’d get used to that anytime soon. “Of course he does,” he sighed. “You will translate for me?”

Sigrid nodded, braided blonde hair swinging with the movement, and looked like she was trying to steel herself. He admired her mettle.

Pero followed after her, keeping light pressure on his foot as they went through that door Ingvar went through before. It led down a short hallway and ended up in a large bedroom. Ingvar was sitting on the edge of the bed before standing tall and fixing Pero with a hard look. Pero grunted and rested a hand on his hip as he leaned on the uninjured foot, waiting to get this over with.

“Hva heter du?” Ingvar grunted. (What is your name?)

“He asked your name,” Sigrid said softly.

“Tovar,” Pero narrowed his eyes.

“Hvorfor er du her?” (Why are you here?)

Sigrid translated quietly.

“Your people brought me here. I was wondering the same thing,” Pero shrugged with an attitude. Ingvar gave him a look, clearly unimpressed. Pero rolled his eyes.

Ingvar looked at Sigrid and she blushed, nodding. “He didn’t mean–”

“Yes, I know what he meant,” Pero sighed. “I had a contract. I came to fulfill that contract.”

Sigrid spoke quietly and Ingvar seemed tired as he nodded.

“Var navnet mitt på denne kontrakten?” Ingvar sighed. Pero gave Sigrid a look as she quickly translated. (Did this contract have my name on it?)

“It did…” Pero raised a brow, crossing his arms over his chest. Ingvar nodded again, but Pero spoke up before he could say anything. “I decided not to complete the contract when I saw your celebration and… status. I may be a mercenary, but I am no fool. I do not go after lords or kings.”

Ingvar raised a brow and chuckled quietly before letting out a loud, hearty laugh. “Jeg vet ikke om du er smart eller dum,” Ingvar smiled, cheeks flushed with mirth. “Jeg takker deg, men tilgi meg for at jeg ikke stoler på deg helt, Tovar.” (I do not know if you are smart or stupid. I thank you. But you will forgive me for not completely trusting you, Tovar.)

Pero nodded and shrugged. “I understand.”

Sigrid looked between the two of them, looking much less nervous. She quickly spoke to Ingvar quietly, asking him a question. Ingvar nodded, a small smile on his lips.

“Nyt festen, Tovar. Vi diskuterer hva vi skal gjøre med deg om morgenen.” (Enjoy the festivities, Tovar. We will discuss what to do with you in the morning.)

“I wish to leave,” Pero grunted, looking between Sigrid and the Jarl. Sigrid looked a little crestfallen, but took one more look at Ingvar before he waved them off. She pushed Pero out of the Jarl’s quarters and back out into the celebration. “Sigrid?” Pero asked, confused.

She sighed before looking up at him. “The Jarl wishes to keep you here until Jól ends. To keep an eye on you, make sure you keep your word.” She started wringing her hands together and bit her lip.

“How much longer is Yool?”

Sigrid went quiet.

“Sigrid.”

“Nine more days,” she sighed, looking down.

Pero’s eyes went wide before he shut them and sighed heavily. He looked up at the ceiling and mumbled, “Joder yo,” under his breath. (Fuck me.) “Fine. Nine more days and I will leave.”

Over the course of the first four days, Pero was treated like he belonged with these people. He still didn’t quite know where he was. If someone were to give him a map, he couldn’t tell them, but he knew he was probably at the top somewhere. He was shocked at how much he liked it there despite the bitter cold.

He felt eyes on him the whole time and he didn’t like the feeling, but he understood it.

He taught Sigrid and some of the children some Spanish words and in turn he was taught some words in their tongue. Norse, he was told.

Pero also found himself helping the warriors Sigrid mentioned before, called Vikingr. Their job was to sail to faraway lands, raid strangers of their belongings, and bring it back home. He didn’t judge. He’d done worse, and frankly, it sounded like something right up his alley. He mostly helped with keeping their longships cleaned for their next raid when the snow thawed.

And he ate. He ate a lot. There was so much food at the feasts in the evenings. He tried to eat as much as he could in the hopes that it would carry him on his journey home. Wherever that was. Every feast started with a chant and “offerings” to their Gods. Some of these “offerings” came in the form of the mead Pero had - reluctantly - grown to like, and other times it came in the form of one of the farmer’s poor goats.

While he didn’t understand a lot of these people’s customs, he couldn’t deny it, they were a hearty people.

He’d also caught the eye of some of the women there, too, but he mostly ignored them. They were all too young for him, and he was too busy not getting killed. He still wasn’t given back his weapons. Or the strange stone. His wound would take a while to heal yet, but he could put pressure on it again.

On the fifth day, he was helping chop wood for people’s homes. During the feast, everyone in the village congregated in the Jarl’s home to be surrounded by the fire given by the Jól Log and enjoy the food, but they all needed wood for their own homes as well.

He stopped to take a break and wiped the sweat from his brow as a cool chill blew past him. Pero looked to his left, the feeling of someone looking at him catching his attention. When he saw it wasn’t one of Ingvar’s men, he startled a little. It was a woman. Older than the ones that mostly watched him, and far more… Interesting. To him, at least. He raised a brow as she turned and left, clutching her basket closer to her body. He’d seen her around during his time there and she seemed to keep mostly to herself. She was unattached from what he could tell, and wondered why. She was beautiful.

Pero snapped himself out of it and shook his head, going back to chopping the wood.

On the sixth day, he saw her again. He’d asked Sigrid what her name was as he saw her making her way through the market, and she said it was Helga.

Helga.

He liked the name.

Helga was a thread-weaver. She made blankets, scarves, anything to keep one warm and covered. Pero was given clothing that suited the temperature better, and he felt strange without his armor, but he was never given a scarf. He didn’t think he’d ever wanted one before now.

He asked Sigrid if she could ask Helga for him for a scarf, and the girl giggled, pushing him toward the woman. He sighed and walked over to her, looking at the weapons and tools surrounding them at the market. He tried not to make himself too obvious, and it mostly worked, he thought. He was genuinely impressed with the craftsmanship of the weapons.

Pero sidled up to Helga’s side, but before he could say anything, she stepped away from the stand and walked back to her house. He watched her go and frowned.

This was going to be tougher than he thought.

The seventh day was much like the day before, but instead of chopping wood, Pero was asked to help around the Jarl’s home. He noticed a lot of the young women that stared at him worked there, so he tried to keep mostly to himself. He’d never cleaned linens or blankets before, but found it to be quite relaxing. There was a rhythm to it, and he could do it without much help.

“Tovar,” a young voice asked from his left. He looked up, finishing the fold of the blanket he was holding. He grunted in acknowledgement. “Jeg og noen av kvinnene har lurt på noe,” the girl was blushing hard up to her ears and biting her lip. (Some of the women and I have been wondering something.)

Pero smirked a little and nodded for her to continue. He picked up on the gist of what she was saying, thanks to Sigrid’s teachings of Norse.

“Hvor fikk du arret fra?” she asked meekly. (Where did you get your scar?)

Pero’s face pinched slightly and he shook his head. “I do not wish to talk about it.” The girl’s eyes went wide and she started scrambling out apologies, her hand pressed to her chest. A sad smile crossed his features before he shook his head. “It is okay,” he said quietly.

The girl frowned, cheeks bright red, but nodded as she turned and left. Pero exhaled quietly and looked down at the linens he was folding.

“I do not believe she meant any harm,” a low, feminine voice said to his left. He hummed in acknowledgement before he froze, realizing that she spoke perfect English. He turned his head and nearly jumped out of his boots when he saw Helga standing there. She smiled and started helping him with the linens. “Tovar, yes?”

Pero huffed a laugh and nodded.

“I have noticed you watching me.” She had a soft smile on her lips, brown hair pulled away from her face in a braid. She turned to look at him, blue eyes full of heat as she looked over his face and chest.

Pero blinked, eyes slightly wider. He went to speak, but all that came out was a croak, making him cough. “Apologies,” he wheezed, the side of his fist pressed to his chest. “I am sorry for staring,” he mumbled, turning back to his own linens as his cheeks flushed. “I am still getting used to the customs here. There are two days left of your celebration, and I will be gone.”

Helga hummed noncommittally and pushed her small stack of folded linens toward him to add to his pile. “That would be a shame.”

Pero furrowed his brows and added her stack to his. He looked at her incredulously, but her head was faced down as she continued folding. He didn’t say anything and continued as well, his thoughts running a mile a minute.

“I thought only Sigrid and a few of the children spoke English,” he said after a few moments of silence.

“They are not the only ones.”

Pero snorted and shook his head. “Clearly not,” he hummed to himself. He cleared his throat and glanced at her before continuing. “When I arrived at this place, I was in the forest. I am not sure how far it is from here, but I saw an old man,” he started, keeping his eyes downward. “I was hoping I would see him here in the village, but I have not.”

Helga hummed a noise for him to continue.

“He wore a cloak, the hood covering his head. He sat in front of my campfire, but I only saw one of his eyes,” Pero’s brows furrowed further, confusion filling his head. “I am not sure if he was missing one or if it was covered.”

Helga stopped folding and looked at him, a small smirk on her lips. “Did he have a long beard?”

Pero looked up and blinked. “Y-yes. You have seen this man?”

“Once or twice,” she said. “He is a wanderer. He does not stay in one place for very long.”

“Who is he?”

Helga bit her lip and shrugged. “He has many names. We cannot be certain which he likes best.”

Pero sighed in frustration. “Why was he at my camp?”

Helga smirked again and finished folding her linens. “Perhaps he was looking out for you,” she shrugged again, leaning over to pick up her basket of fabrics. “Enjoy the feast tonight.” She grinned and left the Jarl’s home, leaving Pero quiet and watching her retreating form.

Pero exhaled and looked up at the ceiling, shaking his head. When he looked down, there was a scarf folded on top of her pile of linens.

“Du får tingene dine i morgen, etter den siste festen,” Ingvar grumbled. (You will receive your belongings after tomorrow’s final feast.)

“Must I stay the whole time? I wish to return home,” Pero growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Not that he had a home to return to.

Ingvar rolled his eyes and waved him off. Sigrid grabbed his elbow and pulled him out of the Jarl’s bedroom. Pero grumbled obscenities in Spanish to himself until he was sat at a table in the hall. It was the eighth night, and he was getting tired of being watched constantly. He had no intention of hurting anyone here. He might if they didn’t give him his things, though. The people around him continued to have the same energy this night that they always seemed to. He supposed that came from actually understanding what you were celebrating, and not having to worry about death or arrest at every corner.

“You leave tomorrow evening, yes?”

Pero startled and looked to his right. Helga sat next to him, a plate of food in front of her. She smiled warmly at him and he softened. “How do you do that?” He huffed a laugh and shook his head before grabbing a piece of meat and eating it.

“You do not pay attention,” she said simply.

He squinted his eyes at her and grumbled around his food that he did too pay attention, thank you very much. She laughed softly and it made him bite his tongue. She had been nothing but kind to him while he was there and she didn’t deserve the frustration he felt to be forced on her.

“Where do you live?” Helga asked softly. “Where will you go?”

Pero bit his lip as he tore a piece of bread in two. “Nowhere. I am a mercenary. I go where the work is,” he shrugged, shoving the bread in his mouth.

“You enjoy this?”

Pero raised a brow as he chewed.

“You like not having anywhere to call home? You do not have to leave,” she hummed around her own food, taking a drink of some mead.

“What do you mean? Of course I do,” he scoffed. “Ingvar wants me dead. His men are constantly watching me.”

Helga rolled her eyes. “You really do not pay attention,” she sighed, setting down her cup and turning to face him. “You have not heard how people talk about you?”

“I am still learning the language,” he frowned, chewing messily and lips greasy.

“Why are you learning the language if you want to leave?”

Pero blinked and looked down at his plate. He frowned, thinking about it. Why was he learning the language?

“Because you like it here, Tovar,” she said softly. “We like you.” It went unsaid, but he got the feeling that she liked him, too.

“Pero.”

“What?”

“My name is Pero.”

Helga smiled, pink dusting her cheeks. “I do not think you will have many people protesting if you stay. The children love you. And I think you would make an excellent Viking.”

Pero raised a brow and exhaled, thinking about it. Having a place to call his own would be nice. And he was familiar with the kind of work the warriors did, from what he’d heard.

“You do not have long to think about it, Pero,” Helga hummed. She picked up her plate and stood before leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. “I would like it if you stayed,” she whispered into his ear. He looked up at her with soft eyes and she smiled down at him with her hand on his shoulder before turning and leaving.

Pero shut his eyes and exhaled once again, then looked in the direction of the Jarl’s personal quarters.

Would it be such a terrible thing to stay?

On the ninth day, Pero woke with a startle. He thought he’d heard a whisper next to his ear again. He’d been mostly dreamless while he was in the village. Last night, after his talk with Helga, he dreamt about the old man and the wolf in the woods. He didn’t understand any of it, and he barely remembered what the dream actually entailed, but he remembered the feeling. He felt… odd. Not bad or wrong. Just… different. Comforting.

As he got dressed in the clothes that were given to him, he looked over at the scarf Helga gave him. It was a brown color and the material was rough, but also thick and soft. It kept his ears warm. He wrapped it around his neck before slipping his feet into his boots, making sure to be careful of his injured one. He made his way over to the Jarl’s quarters and knocked on the door.

“Er du sikker?” (Are you sure?)

Pero nodded, arms crossed over his chest. “Yes.”

Ingvar sighed and crossed his arms, too. “Du forvirrer meg, Tovar. Men hvis dette virkelig er det du vil, tror jeg ikke at jeg ser noe problem med det.” He shrugged and looked at Sigrid’s smiling face. “Gå og hent tingene hans.” (You confuse me, Tovar. But if this is truly what you want, I don’t suppose I see a problem with it. Go get his things.)

Sigrid nodded happily and ran from the room. Pero and Ingvar awkwardly avoided eye contact. Even if neither of them were enemies, the circumstances of their acquaintanceship were less than ideal. When Sigrid returned, she was carrying Pero’s weapons in both arms and looked to be struggling to do so.

Pero furrowed his brows and gently took the weapons from her. She sighed in relief, but smiled shyly up at him. “I am happy you decided to stay,” she giggled.

Pero smiled down at her, then gave a grateful nod to Ingvar before leaving the room. Sigrid walked next to him while he attached his sword and hunting knife to his belt. He carried the armor under his left arm. “Me too,” he grunted awkwardly. “I am unsure how I will fit in, but…” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck.

“I think you will be fine,” she nodded, sure of herself. One of the small children, a younger brother of hers he found out, came up to her and tugged on her dress. He mumbled something Pero didn’t quite catch. Sigrid tapped on his shoulder to get Pero’s attention, making him look down at the two of them, dark eyes intimidating, but soft. “She lives at the end of the village,” Sigrid winked, then took off with her younger brother.

Pero’s cheeks flushed, but he chuckled to himself. He made his way through the village, waving or nodding to people as he saw them. It was strange, being accepted as he was. He wasn’t the only gruff and hardened warrior here, and no one seemed scared of him for his scars or his accent. The feeling was so foreign to him.

As he walked up a small hill toward the end of the village, he heard a quiet thud against the grass. He looked down and saw the strange stone from the forest laying there. Right, he’d completely forgotten. It must’ve fallen from his belongings. He picked it up and looked at it, thumbs running over the strange markings. It was almost shaped like a fork, but with three prongs. Maybe Helga would know what it meant.

When he made his way in front of the door of the last house in the village, he hesitated before knocking. The sun was slowly setting and it was getting a tad colder, so he eventually knocked.

“Et øyeblikk!” (One moment!)

Pero smiled to himself as he heard her voice behind the door. Once the door opened, he raised his head and smiled sheepishly, the shape on his face still foreign to him.

Helga’s face softened as she saw him and rested a hand on her hip. “Well, come on in, then,” she grinned, opening the door wider for him. He nodded gratefully and stepped inside her home, the smells of burnt leaves and the feeling of a warm fire engulfing his body.

“I will find my own home, you need not keep me here if–”

“Hush,” she chuckled softly, taking his armor from his arms and putting it in her bedroom for cleaning later. “You are more than welcome to stay here,” she looked up at him with a bit of shyness. The first time she’d ever looked at him like that. “If you want to, that is.”

Pero took two steps closer to her until his face was mere inches from her own. “I want nothing more,” he said softly, rubbing the knuckle of his index finger against her cheek. She shut her eyes and exhaled softly, nodding.

“I was just getting ready to go to the feast,” Helga smiled, looking up at him. “Would you like to join me?”

Pero’s lips quirked up into a soft smile of his own before he remembered the stone he was holding. “Yes, but first,” his brows furrowed in thought. “It is silly, but… I found this strange stone while I was in the forest.”

Helga hummed and tilted her head to the side, letting him continue.

“It has a marking I have never seen before. Do you know what it means?” He asked, showing her the stone lying in the palm of his hand. She picked it up and rubbed her thumb over the marking like he had before.

“Where did you find this?” Helga asked, face pinched in confusion.

“In the forest. There was a small clearing with a bloodstained stone, and–”

“The ritual site,” she smiled up at him, clutching the stone in her hand. “We sacrificed one of the cows on the first day of Jól there.”

Pero blinked down at her, hands holding her arms and rubbing softly. “I see…”

Helga laughed softly. “You’ll get used to it,” she winked. “This is one of the runes. It seems we forgot one.”

“What does it mean?” He hummed, cupping her face in his large hand. He rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

“Protection,” she said softly. She looked at his lips, then looked back up at his eyes. He did the same and leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. They stayed there for a few moments before he released her and pressed his forehead against hers.

“Surely the feast can wait a few moments,” he growled into her neck, kissing against the soft skin there. Helga bit her lip and smiled, fingers tangling into the thick curls at the back of his head.

“It can,” she gasped, startled by the small nip he left against her shoulder. Pero slowly walked them toward her bedroom and laid her on top of the bed. The curtains in front of the window were drawn. Something caught his eye in the window and he looked out, hovering over Helga’s body.

In the distance, on top of a hill, was a large black wolf. It seemed to make eye contact with him before it turned and left.

A chill ran down Pero’s spine.

a/n: if you're at all curious, here's a decent idea of what i imagined the stone to look like 🥰

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x ofc #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #12 days of pedro #12dop #oaksfics

127 notes · View notes

fireinthefireproofvault · 7 months ago

Text

Who Would Each M*A*S*H Character Play in DnD?

Hawkeye chooses a Tiefling character and plays the ‘what, just because I look like this?’ card anytime he gets blamed for things. Makes a bard partially so Trapper doesn’t have to and partially because he’s against unnecessary killing. In fact, he loves the roleplaying so much and is only in favor of killing really bad NPCs, so he gets mad if people (Frank) try to play the mission-driven murder hobo. Even mischief like personal sidequests to seduce NPCs often end up benefiting the party with information or rewards, so they can’t be too mad at him, especially when he plays amazing support as a mostly nonviolent character.

Trapper leaves the campaign early, but man was he good at roleplaying. The DM has to stop him from actually reenacting things in real life especially if they’re indecent. Almost refuses to call Hawkeye’s character by his name, just ‘handsome devil’ variations (Klink wants what they have fr). His character was an elf rogue; he was almost a bard but he wanted to be able to do more than support, i.e. become the main character if he wanted. His character was great with female and kid NPCs alike, almost all of them liking him unless they were stern authority types, especially because he was good at finding legitimate ways around them.

Ignoring the pressure to fill Trapper’s shoes, BJ plays the character he wants to play, an air genasi former sailor named Blow Jibhandler. He knows. Of course he knows. Despite his character’s name and background, Blow has a wife and child back home and his main motivation is defending his wife’s honor. Raves a lot about how his daughter inherited his powers and is already creating storms at such a young age. Is immediately thick as thieves with Hawkeye’s bard, claiming he remembers him from some old tavern by the sea and helping him write songs and vicious mockery insults.

Margaret decides she wants to let loose, so she goes with barbarian, but she doesn’t feel that’s any reason to sacrifice beauty or brains, making the character a very well-read elf whose ways got her kicked out of being a footsoldier and has her hating being a cog in some old man’s machine. Uses her character’s frustration at the idiots surrounding her and that same feeling from real life as motivation for her battle rage. That and sexism, too. Anytime an NPC is sexist to her they only make her more powerful. Pushes Frank out of the way to just become the tank herself if he won’t do it.

Frank also leaves early. Doesn’t like how infrequently his character gets the spotlight or gets teased by Hawkeye’s character. Wants to be a traditional hero, so he goes for a human paladin but never takes the chance to be the tank unless the others make him. Makes the generic white guy warrior with dead wife backstory.

Charles goes for a wizard upon learning they’re the most traditionally educated, flaunting fake wizard school credentials any chance he can get, especially if he thinks it’ll get him in places (it doesn’t always). The phrase ‘otherworldly grace’ is all it takes for him to choose an elf even though the others complain they’ve got elves already. For a guy who acted like roleplay was beneath him, he’s gotten so interested in not only his fake credentials but also being able to step in with the perfect spell at any given time. Also bantering in character with Hawkeye and BJ’s characters.

Radar wants a familiar so bad, choosing druid for a chance at having animal friends. They’re versatile, too. As far as race goes he’s content “just being a regular human” especially when Hawkeye and BJ tease him about playing a halfling. His character in particular somehow passes every single perception and investigation check. He doesn’t like fighting so most of his moves in combat are holding enemies down, healing the others, or just letting his familiar do it as long as it’ll be safe. It’s technically not canon but they let him make it be a bunny rabbit.

Klinger decides his bard cross-dresses too as a form of protest for how his people are treated, having chosen a goblin so he can be shrewd and do the voice. He loves doing voices best and will absolutely demonstrate dance moves his character does. The type of bard that seduces NPCs of any gender to kill them, but not without the satisfaction of revealing to male ones that he was a dude the whole time. His little goblin is really loving and loyal to all the other characters and really isn’t afraid to stick out his neck for them.

Father Mulcahy obviously chooses cleric, commenting on both the obvious choice and the irony of being a healer amidst all the doctors and nurses. An Aasimar seems too on-the-nose and he wants his character to be down-to earth, so he sticks with a human who’s trying, and usually failing, to rein everyone else in. Plays a very combat-heavy cleric that absolutely bashes in the faces of evildoers who don’t heed his message, causing some of the other players to tease the Father that ‘thou shalt not kill’ and all. The good cleric is an uncle, so he’s also great with child NPCs, even if he’s awkward around women.

Nurse Kellye has a sense of humor, so her ranger is a halfling from a far-off island who’s an expert with both her twin swords and a bow and arrows. Loves both rushing in and quickly picking off enemies, so a joke about ‘sic-ing Kellye on ‘em’ emerges. Just like Margaret’s character, she doesn’t take any bullshit from NPCs, especially male ones.

Colonel Potter, of course, is the DM and he spends most of his time done with all the players’ utter horse hockey.

#m*a*s*h #mash #dungeons and dragons #dnd #hawkeye pierce #trapper john mcintyre #bj hunnicutt #margaret houlihan #frank burns #charles emerson winchester iii #radar o'reilly #max klinger #father mulcahy #francis mulcahy #nurse kellye #colonel potter

23 notes · View notes

mysticstarlightduck · 3 months ago

Text

Character Aesthetic Deep Dive Tag!

Let's go with Saoirse Richards from Scrapyard Boys for this one!!!

Rules: Make a moodboard with your character's aesthetic, a playlist that fits their vibe, "badly summarize them" (like, talk about their personality, but funnily), etc. It absolutely does not need to be super detailed!!!!!

✦ Character Aesthetic: Saoirse Richards, WIP -Scrapyard Boys

♡ Moodboard ♡

♡ Playlist ♡

Are You Satisfied? - Marina & The Diamonds

Was I meant to feel happy That my life was just about to change? One life pretending to be The cat who got the cream Oh, everybody said, "Marina is a dreamer" People like to tell you What you're gonna be is not my problem if you don't see what I see And I do not give a damn if you don't believe My problem is my problem that I never am happy It's my problem, it's my problem on how fast I will succeed Are you satisfied with an average life? Do I need to lie to make my way in life? High achiever, don't you see? Baby, nothing comes for free They say I'm a control freak Driven by a greed to succeed Nobody can stop me

Things We Lost In The Fire - Bastille

Things we lost to the flames Things we'll never see again All that we've amassed Sits before us, shattered into ash These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire We sat and made a list Of all the things that we have Down the backs of table tops Ticket stubs and your diaries, I read them all one day When loneliness came and you were away Oh they told me nothing new But I love to read the words you used These are the things, the things we lost The things we lost in the fire, fire, fire

O.D.D - Hey Violet

I should never listen to another voice But my own Now I've grown up, now I know That when I'm tryna be myself it isn't so simple Anymore Some days I wake up I just wanna hide under the covers 'Cause no matter what I do I'll never be like all the others I'm a little O.D.D Most people really don't get me I'm the girl in the back of the class Blank stare, don't care, don't ask I'm a little O.D.D I see the way they look at me I can hear it when they talk that trash Saying "Any minute she gon' crack"

Mind Games - Sickick

Once I'm in there ain't no letting go, letting go Watch me turn your mind into my home Now that I'm in there's no letting go And your emptiness begins Once I grip onto your mind and soul And your brightness starts to dim Sin after sin you won't feel no more You've lost your trust again I know you wish you could let me know That you're praying for an end

Welcome to Wonderland - Anson Seabra

Welcome to Wonderland, where should we go There's a tea party along down the road Make an appearance and maybe they'll sing us a song Dancing through a dream underneath the stars Laughing 'til the morning comes Everyone that leaves has a heavy heart Oh, Wonderland I love Nothing around here is quite as it seems Not sure if anything's real or a dream And the only thing sure from the start Is the song that's inside of your heart Don't let it leave If this was a dream, then at least I've got Memories for when morning comes Now that I must leave with a heavy heart Oh, Wonderland I love

Boo Hoo - Neoni, ft. RIELL

When you start a fire and hide the matches Been down that rabbit hole Swore I would never go Back to bad habit's, I'm through Around and around we go sick of the vertigo Abracadabra, screw you White lies, red eyes, I've had enough Fake nice surprise, I've had enough White lies, red eyes, I've had enough Fake nice surprise Boo hoo, you don't like me, well That's good for you Boo hoo, say you're over it, well That makes two Throw your pity pity pity party Bring your friends, but you got nobody You, you don't like me, I don't like you Boo hoo

Numb Little Bug - Em Behold

And the world it feels too big Like a floating ball that's bound to break Snap my psyche like a twig And I just wanna see if you feel the same as me Do you ever get a little bit tired of life Like you're not really happy but you don't wanna die Like you're hanging by a thread but you gotta survive 'Cause you gotta survive Like your body's in the room but you're not really there Like you have empathy inside but you don't really care Like you're fresh outta love but it's been in the air Am I past repair A little bit tired of tryin' to care when I don't A little bit tired of quick repairs to cope A little bit tired of sinkin' There's water in my boat I'm barely breathin' Tryna stay afloat So I got these quick repairs to cope Guess I'm just broken and broke

♡ Badly Summarized OC ♡

A brilliant young telepath/telekinetic superhero fueled by coffee, candies and spite, as well as a truckload of pizza.

Puts her intellect to good use by creating the most unhinged plans and somehow making them work! Is the Gremlin Mom Friend.

Is terrified of fire because her father's business partner burned down his lab with him inside. Now doesn't know how to feel about the fact that one of her best friends controls flames.

She's probably a bit more childish and naive than the rest of the team but is sharp-witted and funny all the same. Also! Out of the starting members of the Gang, Saoirse is the only one who was born in serious wealth, though she lost it all.

If someone fused a black cat and an orange cat into one and turned them into a human being, that would be Saoirse.

Can speak a lot of languages but most of the cast doesn't know until she randomly starts spouting fluent words in foreign languages in a situation where that's required. (Cue the classic: "We didn't know you spoke [language X]!" followed by "... But you never asked?")

Gives suspiciously good relationship advice but has never dated before.

Loves a grunge style and absolutely revels in a goblin-core aesthetic, plus adores watching the chaos unfold from behind the scenes.

Has a deeper voice than one would expect, which often also sounds coarse when she's bored or focused.

Sleeps like a rock and could potentially sleep through the end of the world. Counts scientific facts instead of sheep when she can't fall asleep.

Can crawl and climb basically anywhere. This has nothing to do with her powers - she's just uncannily agile and stealthy, to the point she jumpscares her friends often lol.

Source for pictures: Pinterest

Source for music/songs: Spotify

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@differentnighttale

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

Taglist for Scrapyard Boys below the cut 🧪

Scrapyard Boys Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3,

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star, @ominous-feychild, @anyablackwood, @amaiguri, @lyutenw @finickyfelix

@thecomfywriter, @the-letterbox-archives, @differentnighttale @wyked-ao3

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

#wip scrapyard boys #oc: saoirse richards #writeblr #writers #writing #writers on tumblr #writerblr #character writing #my wips #my characters #my writing #superhero story #cyberpunk

12 notes · View notes

paladinbaby · 1 year ago

Text

the hunter & the rabbit

robot rebellion, emily axford / true blue, boy genius / the wee free men, terry pratchett / the house on the cerulean sea, tj klune / i worried, mary oliver / @curseworm / wild geese, mary oliver / @romanceyourdemons / lucy dacus on her song christine / why be happy when you could be normal, jeanette winterson

[Image Description: Ten images of text, mostly black on a white background except the last which is a photo of a book page in low light. The images alternate being one or two to a row.

1: “we can run, we can run, we can run / and it’ll be a race, just you and me / cause they can’t keep up with their metal feet / we can hide, we can hide, we can hide / and you can build a fire in a cave / and i can conjure shadows for a play

cause i am not afraid to die / long as you’re here by my side”

2: “Because it doesn’t matter anymore / Who won the fight? / I don’t know, we’re not keeping score / And it feels good to be known so well”

3: “He said it was better to belong where you don’t belong that not to belong where you used to belong, remembering when you used to belong there.”

4: “When something is broken, you can put it back together. It may not fit quite the same, or work like it did once before, but that doesn’t mean it’s no longer useful.”

5: “Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven, / can I do better?”

6: “im extremely devout but nobody can figure out what im worshipping”

7: “You do not have to be good. / You do not have to walk on your knees / for a hundred miles repenting. / You only have to let the soft animal of your body / love what it loves. / Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. / Meanwhile the world goes on.”

8: “i love when a character has something terrible happen to them and as a result they can only see themself as, essentially if not literally, a ghost. and so that means they only can (and have to) do what ghosts do, ie get revenge and then cease to exist. easy as that. but then halfway through this ghost vengeance they realise hey actually i might still be a human person. with human needs. that’s incredibly inconvenient, considering how much i’ve invested in this whole ghost thing”

9: “She was dating this guy who at the time was just not treating her right, and I played her the song. I was like, ‘I just want you to hear this once. I’ll put it away, but you should know that I would not support you if you get married. I don’t think this is the best you could do.’ She took it to heart, but she didn’t actually break up with the guy. They’re still together and he’s changed and I don’t feel that way anymore. I feel they’re in better place, but at the time it felt very urgent to me that she get out of that situation.”

10: “I was hurt. / It is never too late to learn to love. / But it is frightening.” End ID.]

#litstack #web weaving #personal #c: lost township #onion #oh onion Brandi #i love them so so much

81 notes · View notes

dizzybizz · 2 years ago

Text

when the brainrot hits you like a truck

here are some cooking and cooking related headcanons!!

• kazuki is a very good teacher, hes generally very patient and attentive, he tends to bicker with rei a lot, he struggles to formulate himself concisely sometimes but hes doing great

• miri joins in anytime they cook, they let her wash the vegetables or mix ingredients together, which she obviously has little songs for

• rei is trying his darndest damn it!!

• he finds it really hard asking about stuff and especially for help but hes trying and i love him 😢😢😢

• rei sucks at cracking eggs, miri laughs endlessly, kazuki is dying in the background,,, he keeps explaining how to do it correctly but it never seems to get through to rei

• its not even funny at this point, either the egg is smashed before hes even tapped it to the counter or he ends up using too much force when tapping it against the counter or he successfully cracks the egg but shell ends up going in alongside it-

• he is also stupidly fixated on being able to crack eggs single-handedly (he says its bc its efficient and its always good to have a hand free, which is true, but really he just thinks its badass) and its the bane of kazukis existence, he comes home one day to find both rei and miri (bc miri would also think thats the coolest thing ever and want in) in the kitchen with an almost empty egg carton and egg and shell covered counters, they make eye contact and kazuki immediately turns around and leaves to buy more eggs without so much as a word

• kazuki abandons using omelets as an easy entry-level dish after that

• rei is bad at seasoning savory dishes, hes bad at eyeballing the appropriate amount, kazuki does his best at helping or getting him to use measurements but rei is stubborn, he obviously doesnt want more to have more dishes that absolutely necessary so he needs to work on his eyeballing skill

• during early sessions kazuki would always supervise closely and sorta just constantly stare like a hawk over reis shoulder, he learned quickly not to do that again 💀💀💀

• rei doesnt really grow to like vegetables but kazuki learns ways to work around that by discretely incorporating them in dishes

• rei does like cucumber tho, subtle and very crunchy, put some salt on that sucker and youve got an easy snack (that he shares with miri), you dont even have chop it in order to enjoy it which is appreciated

• kazuki throws a bunch of cookbooks at rei and urges him to look through them and see if anyhting piques his interest, rei flips through them before going to sleep which can bite him in the ass when he has to go to sleep hungry as fuck 💀💀

• hes woken up multiple times with a cookbook in the tub with him

• rei enjoys baking a lot, his and miris sweet tooths never go unsatisfied

• he doesnt bake frequently per se, but he does so in bulk, and freezes cookie dough and such

• kazuki, early on, suggested cooking games in order to maybe get rei a bit familiarized with terms and techniques but he grew to regret it, a gaming night where everyone is gathered in the living room and kazuki loses his mind at the logic in the games, he doesnt stop commentating

• they end up getting into cooperate cooking games like overcooked, plates up and one-armed cook tho and its all good, if they play with miri in the vicinity they have to bite their tongues in order to not swear

• rei struggles grasping his mind around meat, theres so many kinds and cuts and doneness levels and ways of preparation and spice blends- its all a lot

• rei and miri each get their own aprons to match with kazukis 🥺🥺🥺

• miri gets a little yellow one with a monkey or like a sky blue or pink one with a white rabbit, fuck it why not both

• rei has an orange one with a black cat

• or if we wanna stick to an ocean theme, miri would have a goldfish or jellyfish and rei would have an octopus

• rei is a bit of a mess in the kitchen but we love him anyway, i just feel like hed be the type to go "ill clean it all at the end"

• he unceremoniously throws dirtied utensils and pots in the sink to be delt with later

• doesnt even use waiting times to clean or clear his space a little, kazuki is horrified

• rei finds doing the dishes a bit tedious at times but he enjoys the process and seeing the fruits of his labor in the form of sparkling clean dishes

• the repetitive motions are very soothing

• he doesnt like getting wet tho and wears gloves

• rei listens to music when cooking- maybe some instrumental tracks, nothing too distracting

• miri observes whenever either of them are cooking, she stands on a little stool in order to see the counters properly, she is really curious and inquisitive

• early on in reis cooking journey she would give him pointers and reminders she remembered kazuki telling them

• rei isnt an adventurous eater or cook, he prefers things that are simple and quick to prepare

• wait times for rei are long and arduous so he sneaks off to play some video games in the living room, the first few times he did this were disastrous and hes learnt to turn down the volume by a bit and reminding himself that he is in fact in the middle of cooking something

• the family makes lots of homemade popsicles during summer

• when kazuki and rei first try cooking together they mess up a lot but eventually they get a system going where each of them has their own tasks. they make a good team in the kitchen for the most part

• cooking very much becomes a family activity for them after a while

#these are so disorganized- good luck #pls tell me your fave and your own hcs i need to know #my faves are the ones about eggs 😭😭😭#i spent well over two hours thinking about fictional characters cooking... this is what my life has come to.....#buddy daddies #rei suwa #these are mostly rei as per usual #miri unasaka #kazuki kurusu #i wanna draw so many of these 😭😭😭#dizzybrainworms

139 notes · View notes

thearoaceshark · 1 year ago

Text

One more day Leona was looking at herself in the mirror, more specifically looking at her throat.

When she came out as a girl, changing her appearance to a more feminine one was easy, she just needed a little eyeliner, sometimes a bow on her mascara, and that's it! Everyone saw her as a girl. She started practicing her voice to make it sound more feminine, and it was going well... Until they fucked up her throat.

Her injury in that fight made her voice sound much raspier and more masculine... The first few days she couldn't even try to do another voice, it was her eyeliner and the bow on her mask that made her that made her look feminine. When her throat improved a little, she tried to practice a feminine voice again, currently she could do it in everyday situations and it came very naturally, but it was not like before. Any carelessness and that horrible and raspy male voice would come out.

"Leah?" said a rabbit with white fur, peeking into the room. It was Usagi, her girlfriend. "What is wrong love?" She continued now approaching the turtle in front of the mirror.

"It's just..." she paused, looked at her reflection "You know, I don't know how to draw, since we were children I wasn't good at it" she began to relate, and the other nodded indicating that she would continue "At first we all drew the same things, little colorful flowers, things we saw in picture books or cartoons that dad brought in. But Raph and Donnie got better over time, Raph genuinely loved painting, and Donnie wanted to start drawing plans like the ones engineers used and that's why he learned. Mikey also wanted to improve, but he barely improved haha" she remembered smiling, even so she adored her little brother's doodles "But I did lose interest, I spent more time training, and also, looking at the cute drawings of Raph I was afraid to make mine, because I compared them... I got over it, but the thing is that I never learned to draw, probably if I tried now I would be worse than Mikey."

"On the other hand," she continued, "I was the best at singing. For some reason I was very good at that, and I liked that a lot, it was a talent I had apart from martial arts. But since the incident... I no longer I could..." her partner grabbed her hand and sat her on her bed. "I remember when Raph was unconscious I tried to sing him something, a lullaby that dad used to sing to us, and that's when I noticed how much my voice had changed. I sang to him what I remembered from the song, and I hummed the lyrics that I didn't remember."

"What song was it?" Usagi asked.

"I don't know, Sensei stopped singing it when we were like 7, he used to sing it to us when we couldn't sleep or when we had nightmares. In fact I think he didn't even know the lyrics, some verses were there, but others seemed like he invented them because they changed every time he sang it... Those are the ones I don't remember..."

"Hmm," her girlfriend reached out to kiss her cheek. "What if you sing it to me?"

"...I don't really like how I sing now" Leona finally got to the point she wanted with her story, and her girlfriend noticed it.

"I see... We'll fix it" in the next sentence her tone of voice changed a little "Also, you know that my voice isn't very natural all the time either, right?" she said in a funny grave tone.

They both laughed at that, yes, neither of them had access to voice therapy for trans women, they did what they could, and that was fine. Not being comfortable with her voice was also okay, they would solve it somehow, together.

"Aishitemasu"

"Watashi mo itoshite iru yo"

��

○♡○

▪︎○♡○▪︎

○♡○

♡

"[I love you]"

"[I love you too]"

(Translated with Google, if anyone knows Japanese and sees any errors, please correct me).

The lullaby Splinter sang was one he had heard from Tang Shen, but he didn't completely know the lyrics and was trying to guess the parts he didn't remember.

I feel like after Splinter died the turtles started referring to him as dad as often as sensei.

I saw a Tiktok where it showed the main characters of 2012 drawing and everyone had drawn except Leo, so on the tiktok came to the conclusion that they didn't know how to draw. And that's where I got the idea.

I'm not trans but I tried to reflect the dysphoria Lee feels as best I could with the knowledge I have. I hope I did it right, but if any trans person doesn't feel comfortable, don't hesitate to tell me, you can tell me what makes you uncomfortable and why, and I will edit it.

#transfem leo #leona artemis hamato #miyamoto usagi #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #2012 leo #tmnt leonardo #leosagi lesbians #leosagi

27 notes · View notes

mellorphic · 1 year ago

Note

do you have any songs that remind you of dsmp characters? if so, please gimme

(also what is your favorite song/band/artist in general)

Tysm for the ask! I could literally talk about this for hours on end.

Favourite song/band/artist changes all the goddamn time but right now Scum by Lovejoy

In terms of characters you are opening a rabbit hole for me, buckle in.

Tommy

What Can I Do if The Fire Goes Out? By Gang Of Youths fits his exile arc, his relationship with Dream at the time as well as grieving Wilbur - “Do I throw my hopes in the fire? Do I throw my clothes in the fire? Do those things grow in the fire, or burn just to keep me compliant?”

Worried About Ray by The Hoosiers gives Pogtopia!Tommy vibes, with the way he wanted to protect L’Manberg and protect Wilbur - “the truth be told, the truth be told, I’m worried about the future holds, the future holds. I’m so tired of being worried about Ray.”

A lot of AURORA songs give me Tommy vibes but especially It Happened Quiet which reminds me of his third death. She uses a lot of nature related metaphors in her songs which I think fit his character - “Eyes blue and hollow as it rains against their will”

Good Grief by Bastille is such a c!tommy song about grief and how he processes people dying/leaving. I can’t emphasise this enough - “You might have to excuse me, I’ve lost control of all of my senses. You might have to excuse me, I’ve lost control of all of my words.”

Wilbur

Ramblings of a Lunatic by Bears In Trees, specifically for the election era but probably fits most of his L’Manberg arc - “Cause all my friends are dying, some faster than the others. I’m trying to distract myself from the fears that I’ve discovered.”

Youth by Daughter reminds me of the legacy that Wilbur left behind once he died on Nov 16th after blowing up L’Manberg. It’s such a sympathetic song, too - “Collecting pictures from the flood that wrecked this home, it was a flood that wrecked this home, and you caused it”

Saint Bernard by Lincoln fits Revivedbur so so much, but specifically in Hitting On 16, his relationships with Quackity, Tommy, and how he felt about the way people treated Dream (read: how he felt they treated him) at this time - “I said ‘make me love myself so that I might love you’, don’t make me a liar, cause I swear to god, when I said it I thought it was true.”

So many Lucy Spraggan songs?? It’s so hard to pick just one but I’m gonna go with Roots for reflecting on the early days of the L’Manberg era - “I bought a big house in the country, I live there now, does nothing for me. Bought a fast car, white and sporty, when I look back I was pretty poorly.”

Niki

Tongues and Teeth by The Crane Wives as a puffychu song during Niki’s rocket duo arc? Pain. Pain and suffering - “Abandon all your stupid dreams about the girl I could’ve been, my dear. Cuz in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return, my dear. Oh, my dear.”

The Calling by The Amazing Devil is such a Doomsday Niki song about her looking back on her life and who she used to be - “I look into the water and see a face I don’t understand. We’re both unwanted daughters, but there’s more than water in these autumn hands.”

Moonsickness by Penelope Scott is literally Manberg Niki and how she was trying so hard to fight for her home but it was futile - “And in your blood you know what’s right, and in your bones you know what’s wrong, and in your throat you know that you’re lying to kids and you know nobody belongs in this hell”

ilomilo by Billie Eilish about post-nov-16th rain duo from Niki’s pov - “I tried not to upset you, let you rescue me the day I met you, I just wanted to protect you, but now I’ll never get to.”

I also think that The Call by Regina Spektor fits all of the L’Manbergians and what they value and their experiences during and after that arc - “And then that word grew louder and louder, till it was a battle cry. I’ll come back, when you call me. No need to say goodbye.”

I’ve been saying since 2021 that The Horror and The Wild by The Amazing Devil is literally Phil and Wilbur talking in the button room, with Phil being the part of Madeline Hyland and Wilbur being Joey Batey - “Think of all the horrors that I promised you I’d bring, I promise you, they’ll sing of every time you pass your fingers through my hair and call me child - witness me, old man, I am the wild.”

If you’d like me to assign songs to specific duos, arcs or characters I can 100% do that! Or if you want a more in depth analysis of any of these songs, I can do that to (this is open for anyone to ask me about, not just Mayrine!)

#tommyinnit #c!tommy #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #nihachu #c!niki #dream smp #dsmp #niki nihachu #orphic talks #song analysis #dsmp analysis #L’Manberg #Pogtopia

42 notes · View notes

sketchy-rosewitch · 2 years ago

Text

Happy Birthday: Bo Sinclair x f!reader

Warnings: Minors DNI PinV, fingering, cumplay lowkey.

A/N: Happy Belated to me, a week late Also yesterday was Brian Van Holt’s wife’s birthday, happy birthday to her too 😅

This was all I wanted for my birthday but my now ex couldn’t even give me that so they get shade.

“You look gorgeous baby.”

Bo holds your waist and kisses you on the cheek as you look in the mirror. You smile and look down shyly, still not used to the affections of Bo.

“Thank you..”

“Ya make the most perfect Alice.” Bo takes your hand and raises it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles gently as his chin leans on your shoulder. Bo then stands up straight and spins you around, your dress and petticoat flow with you making you giggle, a noise Bo loves hearing. He dips you gently and kisses your soft strawberry tasting lips.

“It’s your birthday, shouldn’t be wearing my favorite stuff.” Bo smirks, his teeth slightly showing, you snort and look away from him.

“I know, but I like the strawberry lip balm too!” You defend. He laughs and kisses you one more time before taking your hand.

“Come on pretty girl.”

Your Mary Janes tap down the stairs as the living room comes into view. A tea party is set up, with pastries and sandwiches and tea and so much more. Vincent and Lester sit at the table in their costumes, the White Rabbit and the Mad Hatter. Vincent’s mask only covers the right side of his face and Lester wears messy makeup.

Jonsey (being such a good girl) sits across from them wearing a heart crown with a band going around her head. You giggle and Bo guides you to the head of the table. He pulls out the chair for you and you sit, he sits in the chair right of you, right next to Jonsey.

“Thank you guys so much for this. I really appreciate it. I appreciate you guys dressing up for me too, I know it’s a bit childish and it’s not even close to Halloween but I enjoy doing it.” You smile at all of them. Lester pours some tea and you guys begin eating.

“It really wasn’t a problem. Took us no convincing. Bo acted like it would’ve though. (Even though we know who is the most stubborn here).” Lester puts his hand to cup his mouth as if he’s telling a secret. Bo sneers playfully and throws a piece of bread at Lester making him laugh.

“Shut up.”

You laugh and stuff a sandwich in your mouth. Jonsey wags her tail, lightly hitting Bo in the back. He pets her and Vincent gives her some croissant. You continue eating a chatting for awhile, then you can’t help but bring the conversation back full circle.

“I just appreciate how much you guys do for me. I’m so happy I met you guys and stuff. Birthdays are just such a huge thing and the fact you guys felt like doing this for me is just amazing.”

“Oh gosh, you could go on all day bout us honeysuckle. You shush it and enjoy, we appreciate you and all you’ve done for us. All of us agree you deserve everything and more. Here.” Lester says, he pulls out a wrapped box and take it and practically tear through it. Alcohol markers and color books sit inside a box. You look at Lester with a smile he’ll never forget.

“Oh my god! Thank you! This is the best!” You get up and hug him, his makeup snugs slightly on your arm but neither of you care.

Vincent pulls out a small gift bag and slides it quietly across the table before getting up and going to the kitchen. The tall man comes back with a small cake and a candle in the middle. He sets it in front of you and lights it.

They sing happy birthday and you blow it out, looking down bashfully. Something about the birthday song always made you embarrassed.

You take the dark blue gift bag and take out the wrapping paper, setting it on the table. Your hands feel for a card and pull it out. You open the envelope and grin at the beautiful drawing in front. It’s of Jonsey laying in the grass. You open it.

“Happy birthday to you sweetheart. Thank you for being you. I love you lots - Vince”

You look up at him and he leans down for a huge hug from you. “You’re so sweet.” You say before reaching in and pulling out a small wax sculpture. It’s detailed, if you, Bo, Vincent, Lester and Jonsey all hanging out. It’s small but beautiful. “I love it! Vincent it’s amazing!”

He scratched the top of his head awkwardly trying to avoid the bunny ears that sit there, you see his lips curl into a shy smile and he goes to sit back down.

Bo is the last to pull out his gift. He doesn’t look as confident as his brothers, you think it’s a first. It’s a few small boxes. “It wasn’t much. Hope you like it though.” Bo says.

You open up one of the boxes and look at Bo before showing it off to his brothers. A handmade bracelet sits in it, you pull it out and slide it on. You open the next box and show it again, your grin getting wider and wider. Another bracelet is in the box accompanying a hair clip. It’s nothing fancy but it matches your style. The last box is opened. A beautiful necklace sets in it. You gasp and pull it out.

“Bo I love it! Did you make these?” You ask looking into his eyes, he tries to look away but his eyes meet back up with yours again.

“Yeah, I did. I seen some of your broken jewelry and thought I’d try and fix it and make it into something more. Hope that’s alright.”

“It’s perfect! Put it on me Bo!” You shove the necklace into his now clammy hands and he chuckles getting up and putting it on you. You get up and kiss him all over his face. “I love you! I love all of you thank you for an amazing birthday I could never ask for anything better!”

Bo unzips your dress and it falls gently to the floor. He kisses your neck and unclasps your bra, you let that fall too. He kisses your jaw and mouth as he takes his own purple suit off. You pull of the cat ears and set them on the dresser.

His calloused hands run up and down your hips before taking your stockings and pulling them, along with your panties down. He unbuckles your shoes. You step out of everything and Bo backs you up towards the bed.

You fall on it and watch as Bo practically tears his own clothes off. His cheeks are still blushed with magenta and you swipe your thumb over his cheeks lovingly.

Bo kisses you and bites your lips making you moan.

His fingers trace down your body making you squirm and squeal a little. He smirks and dips his fingers between your folds.

“Shit, can’t even say anything about me being impatient.” He pulls his middle and ring finger out. “Look how wet you are baby.”

“I never said you were impatient.” You scrunch your face teasingly.

“Yeah but you were definitely thinking it. I saw the face you made when I was takin’ my clothes off.” Bo replies, he sticks his fingers back in you and your arch your back groaning loudly. “God I love your noises.”

His fingers curl in you and he places a thumb on your clit, lightly circling it. You gasp and roll your eyes back.

“Holy fuck.” You mumble, Bo chuckles and kisses your neck.

“You’re so pretty.”

Your lips turn upward into a small smile and you turn your head away. “Not while I’m like this Sinclair.” You huff playfully. He takes his other hand and turns your head so your looking at him. His fingers curl, making you moan.

“You’re especially pretty when them moans leave your mouth.”

“Shut uh-ah.”

Your back arches and his fingers move faster. He leans his forehead against you, kissing you softly. Heat pools at your stomach and you cry into his mouth as your legs shake and white flashes over your eyes. Bo slows down and pulls his fingers out tasting you.

You watch as he moves between your legs and begins kissing your neck. His hands grope your breasts and slowly slide down, feeling you.

Bo lines himself up and pushes in. You groan and grab his hair whining at the stretch. He pants into your ear and kisses you. “Always so tight for me..”

Bo slowly pulls and then slams back in you.

“Fuck.. only for you.” You nose between his shoulder and neck and nibble him. He thrusts into you, grunting and gripping your hips.

Your arms wrap around his neck you squeal at the feeling of him stretching you and pounding into you. You relax and let go, a hand cups your face. Bo kisses you deeply, pushing your hips up, hitting a deeper part in you. Your mouth opens in a silent scream and he spits in it.

That takes you over the edge, you whine and writhe under him. Swallowing his spit, you let out noisy pants.

“Where do you want it?”

“I-on me.” You mumble, barely even focused on what’s happening. Bo slides out, you whine at the emptiness but begin focusing on him jerking himself. Cum spirts on your stomach and reaches your breasts.

You take some on your finger and lick it. Bo smirks and kisses your face. “Dirty girl. Lemme get you cleaned up yeah?” Bo is already getting off the bed, you nod and watch as he leaves to go to the bathroom. A minute later he comes back with a wet rag and water. You gulp it down and Bo wipes you off.

“Happy Birthday beautiful.”

Bo takes you once you’ve finished your water and you cuddle into his chest.

“Happy birthday to meee.” You mumble tiredly.

Bo chuckles and kisses your forehead, he scratches your back and holds you a little tighter. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep. Bo falls asleep soon after.

“Seriously, you make the most beautiful Alice.” Bo takes your hand and spins you around then kisses your knuckles. “Now come on pretty girl.”

“Thank you..” you mumble, looking back up, he has his chin on your shoulder swaying lightly to the music you put on while you were getting ready. You giggle and scrunch your nose before turning around and pecking him on the cheek.

Bo gently grabs your hands and guides you to your small birthday downstairs. It’s a small

Bo takes your hand walking you down the stairs to your birthday. It’s a small tea party set up, Vincent and Lester sit next to each other and Jonsey (oh what a good dog she is) sits across from them. All of them in the costumes you picked, Vincent in the White Rabbit’s costume, Lester in the Mad Hatter, and Jonsey

“You ready Bunny?”

#bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x oc #bo sinclair headcanons #house of wax #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #jonsey #sprout speaks #house of wax 2005

80 notes · View notes

bambirex · 11 months ago

Text

2023 writing roundup

I was tagged by @dancingwiththefae, thank you! ❤️

I've written 24 fics this year, mostly Witcher and a few others (I'm not including the request compilations from tumblr)

Had to put some of it under the cut because I have long ass summaries lol

January

The Day Has Come Where I Have Died (Only To Find I've Come Alive) (geraskier, M, 2,785 words)

A familiar place forces Jaskier to relive the most horrifying experience of his life.

February

Me And Mr. Wolf (geraskier, E, 3,861 words)

Geralt looked at him differently, with an emotion in his amber eyes that Jaskier couldn’t quite decipher, but it looked like hunger. And Jaskier tried to signal to him that it was okay to act upon his desires (if they existed at all, of course), but all his attempts were futile. The tension, the lingering glances and touches remained, and Jaskier felt like tearing his own hair out every day.

(...)

All his frustrations oozed onto the piece of paper before him. That was the only way to truly let it all out, by making up an unabashedly horny song using his typical metaphors. It wasn’t as if anyone would ever hear it; this wasn’t the kind of song Jaskier would have ever played in front of a crowd. That was just for him, only he would know who the big bad wolf and the needy bunny of the lyrics were.

Well, Geralt would probably know, too, what with him living his life with the “white wolf” title plastered to him, and the fact he once fondly said that if Jaskier would be an animal, he would definitely be an over-energetic rabbit.

Lucky that Geralt would never find that song.

We Match (geraskier, G, 1,121 words)

Geralt and Jaskier compare their stripes.

March

Butterfly Lounge (geraskier, T, 1495 words)

Geralt has missed out on so much.

The Wonderful In You (trissefer, T, 4,080 words)

Five times Triss told Yennefer she loved her without outright saying it, and the one time Yennefer said it for real.

The River's Just A River (one-sided geraskier, T, 1817 words)

Jaskier needs to tell Geralt something important in order to move on with his life, even though he knows he cannot expect anything in return.

June

Tell It With Your Heart (geraskier, T, 2,504 words)

While Jaskier always says what's on his mind, Geralt works a little differently. That doesn't mean he cannot tell Jaskier how he feels - he just does that without words.

July

Sunshine For The Sunshine (geraskier, yennskier, radskier, Jaskier & Kaer Morhen wolves, Jaskier & Ciri, G, multichap, 2,127 words)

Jaskier being loved, spoiled and taken care of by everyone the way he deserves.

This Evil Romance (So Good I Never Wanna Waste It) (yennskier, E, 4,678 words)

"See something you like, little bird?"

On one hand, definitely. This woman was so incredibly hot, if Jaskier wasn't literally tied into a knot, she would have fallen on her knees to worship her.

On the other hand, judging by her unnaturally perfect looks, the dark lace and the ominous necklace - not to mention the fact she was smirking over a kidnapped girl - she was most definitely a witch. And that was not very good.

Jaskier wakes up tied up and disoriented in the company of a very sexy, but probably insane witch, and her first thought, of course, is that she is going to be sacrificed- but the witch has other plans. Really exciting ones.

August

The Heavy Burden That You Can't Bear (past radskier, Radovid/OMC, E, 2,212 words)

He grabbed the oil from the table and coated his fingers with it, cursing the way they shook. The mighty, unapologetic King of Redania. Radovid the Stern. The tyrant. Broken to the point he started breaking everything and everyone around him, punishing the world because punishing himself wasn’t enough anymore. The charming, witty player of a Prince long gone. Now he was just a lonely, angry King who has aged decades in a few years. More pathetic than ever.

The servant gasped as Radovid shoved two fingers inside him without warning. He squirmed as the king prepared him without any finesse, stretching him out quick. He probably didn’t even open him enough before he slicked himself and started pushing inside, if the way his breath hitched in a way that sounded more pained than pleasured was anything to go by.

Radovid grabbed the man’s hips as he buried himself inside. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the body before him engulf him. Tight and warm, silky heat. A quiet moan. Radovid let it all take him back to the memories that haunted his every waking moment.

Takes One To Know One (Breaking Bad, JesseJane, T, 1,117 words)

Jesse needs to tell Jane something important. Jane has some interesting info for him, too.

Good Enough To Eat (geraskier, E, 2,375 words)

“It’s true what they say about wolves,” Jaskier started, his voice much lower than usual- sensual and needy. He only talked like this when he wanted to play their game. Not even just regular sex, but the kind that they have discovered months prior due to a ridiculous, horny song found by accident. A sinful performance they put on for each other.

“That they like to take care of their pack. The big alpha would provide for his family, making sure they’re well-fed…”

Jaskier took one of Geralt’s hands and led it under the blanket and over his stomach. Geralt couldn’t suppress a moan when he felt his fingers dig into soft flesh, yielding like dough beneath his hand.

“Is this what it’s about, huh?” Jaskier huffed out a laugh, his breath hot and moist against the skin of Geralt’s neck. “The wolf wants to feed up the bunny so he would be happy and healthy?”

September

Keep My Heart In Your Gold (geraskier, T, 2,579 words)

Geralt always carries a brooch around with him. Jaskier wants to know why.

A Lesson In Patience (geraskier, E, 1,939 words)

“Fuck me,” he moaned against Geralt’s neck. He pushed his body against Geralt’s, rubbing his hard cock against his groin. “Now.”

Geralt smirked against Jaskier’s skin. He gave his ass a curt spank, making Jaskier let out a delighted gasp.

“Get on the bed, then,” Geralt told him. Jaskier nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste. He threw himself on the bed, opening his legs with a sultry look. Geralt stood at the foot of the bed, raking his eyes over Jaskier’s body, practically already writhing with need.

“What are you waiting for?” He drawled. “Don’t just stand there!”

Geralt retrieved the bottle of oil from the desk, keeping his eyes on Jaskier all the while. Jaskier pouted and huffed, then reached between his legs and started stroking his cock, unable to go without a bit of pleasure for a few moments. Oh, it will be delicious to break him in and show him it was worth waiting, Geralt thought with a smirk.

October

I Get So Hungry (When You Say You Love Me) (Jaskier/Geralt/Radovid, E, 3,439 words)

"What kind of animal would I be," Radovid drawled, the words leaving his mouth before he could stop himself. Jaskier sent him a strange look.

"Pardon?"

"In this game of yours," Radovid clarified. He tightened his grasp around Jaskier's hips. "What am I?"

Jaskier tilted his head to the side as he inspected his face. His eyes darkened, his tongue poking out to wet his lips.

"A fox," Jaskier concluded. Radovid hummed.

"Elaborate on that."

"Smart, cunning," Jaskier explained, teasing a finger down the side of Radovid's neck. "Crafty. Seemingly a harmless puppy, but you bite hard. Not afraid of a challenge. Leaner and not as tough as a wolf - but still very strong. And you have these sharp features and that reddish tint to your hair, so... a fox. Definitely."

Well, Radovid could make do with that information. It planted a new image in his head - one where that sweet, eager bunny was hunted by not one, but two apex predators at once...

It was as if Jaskier read his mind because he leant in really close to his ear and whispered "why? Would you like to join us?"

Te Engemet, Én Tégedet (Queen, Jimercury, G, 3,846 words)

Freddie suddenly sat up, excitement twinkling in his eyes. “Okay, so I did some research. They have a folk song, it’s really pretty. And I want to sing it for them on Sunday.”

Jim was sure his eyes were practically bulging out of his head, and that just made Freddie giggle again. “In Hungarian?” Jim checked, and Freddie nodded, his cheeks growing flushed with excitement.

“I want to blow their minds, okay? I want them to remember this forever.”

November

Chubskier Drabbles (geraskefer, geraskier, yennskier, radskier, Jaskier & Kaer Morhen wolves, Jaskier/Valdo, Jaskier/Vespula, Jaskier/original characters, Jaskier & Yarpen, E, multichapter WIP, currently 14,763 words)

Just a collection of short stories revoling around chubby Jaskier.

December

New Depths (geraskefer, E, 3,375 words)

Jaskier asks Yennefer to perform a strange spell on him. No one's ready for how much he actually enjoys the results.

Carve It Out (Killing Eve, villaneve, M, 1,413 words)

Eve brings her issues with her to the bedroom. Villanelle knocks some sense into her.

The World Is Yours, If You Seek The Good (geraskefer, M, multichapter WIP, currently 55,807 words)

Used and abused by humans, Jaskier and Yennefer believe they are alone and with no reason to trust anybody. That is, until they meet each other - and then, a couple of other strange misfits.

Maybe Loving Is Sharing (geraskefer, M, multichap, 24,108 words)

The plan is simple: help your best friend get together with the girl of her dreams. What could go wrong?

Well, when everyone is confused and pining but also very oblivious, pretty much everything.

It's A Game We Play (geraskier, yennskier, radskier, T, multichapter WIP, currently 40, 586 words)

Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Those Blue Memories Start Calling (Rush, Launt, T, 1,849 words)

James visits Niki before Christmas.

Every Night He'd Tuck Him Tight (But Never Left The Room) (radskier, geraskier, E, multichapter WIP, currently 6,472 words)

Jaskier finds himself back with Radovid against his will- while he still has strong feelings for him, he finds it hard to trust him again. What's even worse is that the guilt and pain has turned Radovid into a completely different person. A person who's desperate to keep the only good thing in his life, which is Jaskier, himself. Jaskier doesn't want to change his mind about putting his family first, so Radovid needs to find a way to make sure he will be the only one for the bard.

What follows is Radovid's even deeper descend into madness, and Jaskier's forced transformation into the perfect, pliant lover who won't need anybody else.

Tagging @wren-of-the-woods, @sokkas-first-fangirl, @carrottheluvmachine and whoever else wants to do this!

#fic roundup #tag game #the witcher fanfiction #Breaking bad fanfiction #killing eve fanfic #Rush fanfiction #queen fanfiction

11 notes · View notes

barrenclan · 1 year ago

Note

for your next music recs post i got a few:

1. “rabbit heart (raise it up)” by florence + the machine is a good one for rainhaze imo. it might work a little better if he was a girl just bc the singer refers to herself as such in the song but other than that it’s a pretty good fit

for the next two, i remember someone tried to recommend an ethel cain song for corm that ended up not being a good fit, BUT i feel like her music in general does match up with the vibes so here’s a couple songs off that same album (preacher’s daughter, def give it a listen if you get the chance) that i feel would fit:

2. “thoroughfare” would be a good one for hush puppy, wild rose, or even slugpelt depending on the context you take it in; lyrically it’s about a girl who falls in love with a smooth-talking guy and they plan to go on the run together. however, if you take it in the greater context of the album (bc it’s a concept album), the guy later turns out to be a serial killer/cult leader sooo you can imagine how that turns out

3. “ptolemaea,” which is a couple songs after the previous one, and sort of serves as the climax of the album; while i’m not sure if there’s a specific character it fits, it ABSOLUTELY fits the overall mood/themes of the story. i wish there was more i could say about it, but this is one of those songs where it’s best if you go in blind. trust me

Eh, I never care too much about the gender of lyrics unless it's actually relevant to the character's meaning. I like it with Redpelt, too, though! Since Rainhaze and Redpelt did have a relationship to each other, maybe they can both be singing the song.

"Here I am, a rabbit hearted girl Frozen in the headlights It seems I've made the final sacrifice" (Redpelt)

"This is a gift, it comes with a price Who is the lamb and who is the knife? Midas is king and he holds me so tight And turns me to gold in the sunlight" (Rainhaze)

youtube

2. I did listen to a bit of the Ethel Cain album, though it's not really my taste.

The specific song sounds really great to work with Wild Rose, in the context of the rest of the album. I have described her as a character with wanderlust before, so I imagine she'd want to leave Defiance with Deepdark.

"I met you there in Texas, somewhere on the thoroughfare On the side of the road in some torn up clothes with a pistol in my pocket I didn't trust no one but you said, "Baby, don't run, I'll take you anywhere"

"And then you turned to me and stared into me deep And said, "Well, maybe not, 'cause look at what I've got You might not be my love, but baby, I doubt it"

youtube

3. Oh, what an intersting song this is. If I had to assign a character to it I'd say Deepdark, with certain other lyrics in the song as victims of his throughout the years. Specifically the phrasing of "I am the white light" and "[the] wolf, crawling to thee" are very relevant to some imagery surrounding him.

youtube

Good old The Moss! I like this song.

"Well, we can all learn things, both many and a-few From that old hunched-up woman who lived inside a shoe Or the girl that sang by day and by night she ate tear soup Or the man who drank too much and he got the brewers' droop"

"Come listen, all ye fair maids, to how the moral goes Nobody knew and nobody knows"

youtube

If that song's not on Rainhaze Hell, it prolly should be. He's got a couple of NIN there already I believe. Any angry, edgy, upset song is very Rainhaze. I like the motif of the days feeling like a constant endless drag in this one.

"I think I used to have a purpose Then again, that might have been a dream"

"I can feel their eyes are watching In case I lose myself again Sometimes, I think I'm happy here Sometimes, yet I still pretend"

youtube

Never Love an Anchor is actually Slugpelt's theme song, which you can find on the official PATFW playlist! It fits her terribly well.

I could see I Bet on Losing Dogs as a representation of her and Cashew's relationship, where she's continually convincing herself that he'll stay despite knowing in her heart he won't.

"Will you let me, baby, lose On losing dogs I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place"

"My baby, my baby You're my baby, say it to me Baby, my baby Tell your baby that I'm your baby"

youtube

Aw, yeah, good call.

"If the rashes sprang to life, would you just let me down? Would you leave those kids again and kick 'em outta town? I guess we'll never know, I'll just be here wondering What made you choose to go? The day you went down to Mexico"

"Now there's time to mend, every broken heart that you left In your gust of wind, no more little ghost I keep around"

youtube

#ask #anon #music #slugpelt #cashew #deepdark #wild rose #rainhaze #redpelt

34 notes · View notes

roukabi · 2 years ago

Text

Hee hee! hee hee ho! My grubby furry hands will contaminate everything you love!

(Designs are free to use with credit, if anyone’s interested!)

Exhaustive design notes/trivia/extras are under the cut!

[Image IDs: a series of animal designs for Vide Noir’s characters. Buck Vernon is a sand-colored whitetail deer (how creative) with dented antlers, a brown-and-white striped bandanna, and a guitar slung around his back. Lee Green is a peach-and-cream fox with a white lily above her ear. Frankie Lou is a clouded leopard with a wavy black ‘mane’ of sorts. Jasper and Hontanx are mutts; Jasper is slender and mostly grey with brown dorsal coloring while Hontanx is more boxer-like with short, white fur and grey patches. Johnnie is a german shepherd mix, with half of his face scarred by black-braining, and sports a red bandanna on his leg and a leather World Enders jacket. Moonbeam is a black lop-eared rabbit with lavender undertones, also wearing the World Enders jacket. Alex is a doberman with slicked-back hair, also (also) with a World Enders jacket and much smaller black scar on his cheek. Toby is a very scruffy rufous treepie (don’t ask), mostly tan with a black head and wings with white accents. Finally, Z’Oiseau is a melanistic Bengal tiger, where his stripes are large and take up the majority of his fur. The final image is a lineup of all characters, with heights considered. Each design is still sketchy, and construction lines can be seen. The artist’s signature overlaps each image. End IDs.]

Well, well, well. It appears I’m at the stage of obsession where I make furry designs for the characters. Because I’m always paranoid that I need to explain myself for everything I do, here’s the comprehensive guide to each design. If I’ve done a good enough job, you can tell who’s who pretty easily.

Buck: Hmm, now how did he end up as a deer, I wonder...?

Silliness aside, Buck’s antlers actually play a pretty big role in representing his psyche/self-esteem, as they break off in certain scenes until the end, where they become shattered stumps. Jasper breaks + steals one antler when Buck gets black-brained, which I’m sure can be used as a metaphor for something.

He’s also got big ol’ floppy ears. When I make animal designs, I try to mimic the form of someone’s hair via the ears or cheek fur, though, as you’ll soon see with Frankie, that’s not a hard-and-fast rule. You’ll also notice that he wears a bandanna, even though he doesn’t in the film. This is because I felt his design lacked color. And bandannas are cool. And my brain is addled with Hadestown parallels.

“But Rook!” I hear you say, “If Buck’s a deer, how can he play guitar? And how is he supposed to hold a gun?” Well, the answer to the first question is that he plays with his teeth. Obviously. And the obvious conclusion to the second question is that he doesn’t need artillery when he has a crown of stabby stabby bone.

Lee: Lee is a fox - outwardly desireable and a character of multiple folktales. There’s not much to say about her design otherwise, except for the addition of a lily - referencing ‘Fool For Love’ with “I’m asking Lily to be my bride” as well as ‘La Belle Fleur Sauvage’. Oh yeah, and she’s way too big compared to the other characters in the height chart lmao pretend she’s the average fox size

Lee fascinates me, and I think I’m the only one who thinks that way lol. It’s revealed at the end that she had Way more agency over her situation than everyone realized. Did she know about Z’Oiseau’s kill count before getting with him? Does she know now? AFWP says that she overcame the Vide Noir addiction, how did that go? Did severing herself from the drug sever connections to Z’Oiseau’s empire? What does she actually think of him? What are her songs like? Is she okay? Does she regret anything? Is she the same Lee who’s known as Lee Avery in the World Ender MV? AAAAAAAAAAAA

Frankie Lou: Picking the animal was easy, designing her was not. Clouded leopards are native to Cambodia, and I wanted Frankie and Z’Oiseau’s designs to complement each other in some way (I’d made Z’Oiseau’s design before I made Frankie’s). So there’s a spotty kitty and a stripey kitty. Clouded leopards are also insanely elusive, which adds to Frankie’s mysterious ghost facade in the film.

I normally don’t like adding ‘human’ hair to animals, but when I initially made Frankie without her hair, it really felt like something was missing. I like the way it looks now, and her plumed tail ties it together. The spots are not end-all-be-all, and can be simplified for animation.

Jasper and Hontanx: What better to chase after our Arthurian White Stag (Buck) and Teumessian Fox (Lee) than a pair of hunting dogs? Jasper and Hontanx needed to complement each other in the classic “Big Guy, Little Guy” trope, with the ‘little guy’ (Jasper) being tall, slender, and shrewd, while the “big guy” (Hontanx) is muscular and rarely speaks. Their names even follow the Kiki-Bouba effect.

I thought about making Hontanx fluffier, but the boxer look fits well, too. There’s some patches of longer fur around his neck and shoulders.

Johnnie: Everyone’s favorite little hurricane! Johnnie gives me exciteable puppydog vibes, so I made him a German Shepherd mix (mix, being “something fluffy”). His cheek fur is missing on his black-brained side, and his eye is a little messed up, but here’s what he looks like when he’s a-okay:

Moonbeam: Rabbits are associated with the moon in multiple mythologies, so it’d make sense to make Moonbeam one. I haven’t drawn her in her fortune teller gear, but I think she’s happier to don the World Enders jacket instead. She’s also got some purple undertones for flavor, and they make her stand out as the only design with a cool color pallete. She’s just got that transfemme swag, I suppose.

Alex: For a character who only appears for 2 seconds, Alex seems to have made a permanent impression on Vide Noir fans, including myself. Strong, tall, and effortlessly cool, I wanted him to look like a model World Ender. This mayyyy have resulted in him looking nothing like his younger brother, but maybe one takes more after their father, and the other, their mother. Idk. I have this whole backstory thing with Cobb where the Redmaynes have this godawful father that Cobb helps them... get rid of. Because Cobb is the better dad.

Alex is the last of this bunch to be a canine, which I’m sure you’re all glad to hear. I don’t know why there are so many dogs. They just have that rugged look to them that suits the World Ender/Bounty Hunter style. Well, these ones do, anyway. Not Lee.

Toby: Toby was by far the most aggravating to design, and it’s pretty apparent in the final result. I mean, have you heard of a rufous treepie?

I had no idea what I wanted Toby to be, but I wasn’t about to draw another canine. As Z’Oiseau’s nephew, he’d be associated with birds by default, so I started thinking about the kind of bird Toby could fit - it’d have to be territorial, annoying, and/or aggressive.

Like... blue jays?

While blue is not a color I’d associate with Toby, for whatever reason, I was getting somewhere. Blue jays are a part of the family Corvidae. Corvidae has birds that are black. Blackbird = Z’Oiseau! See? There’s a connection!

I scrolled down through Wikipedia’s corvid list until I came across the Rufous Treepie, a bird not only described as ‘opportunistic’, but ironically has a symbiotic relationship with local deer populations... It’s also large enough to get stabbed by an antler from a certain less-willing-to-cooperate deer.

So that’s what I went with. Toby’s meant to look more like a fledgling, given the scruffiness. I took some creative liberties with facial markings, but like. Who cares.

“But Rook,” you say, “If Toby’s a bird, and Z’Oiseau isn’t, how are they related?” Well, the obvious conclusion to come to here is that you should stop asking questions.

Z’Oiseau: It’s Zazo time! With a name like 'bird’, you’d expect him to be a bird. But I figured that making him a big cat would play very well into the irony of his name and would present him as a real threat. After all, you didn’t find Tobey very scary, did you? And who names a bird “bird”?

Because Z’Oiseau’s original name, Zozo, is Euskara, a language spoken in the Pyrenees, that was my first place to look for animals. Nothing jumped out to me, though, so I moved on to looking up big cat species and hoping for the best. Then an idea came to me - what about a tiger, but with reversed stripes? It’d fit the reasoning behind the “blackbird” name, and he’d be the most powerful big cat out there. To my surprise, melanistic tigers do exist, and they’re really cool. I picked the Bengal tiger of India for Z’Oiseau, as most of the ‘black tigers’ have been spotted there.

Z’Oiseau’s stripes can be simplified for animation or what-have-you. Or you can draw every individual stripe as presented in the photo, I’m not gonna stop you.

Well, that’s that! Might make Tubbs Tarbell and Cobb Avery later. For now, as a reward for making it this far, here’s some silly scribbles + shitposting:

53 notes · View notes