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Do you have any tips for writing genderfluid characters?

Ooh that's tricky (and I'm really sorry for the slow response! Been very busy on my end recently x.x)

I definitely can't speak for everyone who is genderfluid but these are my thoughts from how I personally experience things;

I suppose my first thought is what do you want to say about the character? What is it about the character that makes you think they would be genderfluid? And I guess it's worth also asking if it's a good reason, if what you want to say about them is a fair one.

Also what does genderfluid mean to them specifically? Do they err towards one gender over others? Do they feel one gender more strongly or more frequently than others? What's the gender gamut they run? Do they experience male and female? Female and agender? Three or more? Do they experience the gender that matches how they were assigned, or not at all?

How do they express it? Do they have different styles for how they feel, or do they dress more neutrally to fit more circumstances? Are they out and open about their identity? Do they even know or understand their own gender?

How do they typically see themselves, and what do they call themselves?

From my own stories, Nem is non-binary and is unused to being open about it because of their past, but is now around people who care. Mitch on the other hand is likely fluid or NB of some flavour but is a little blind to his own gender because he's had very little opportunity to consider these sorts of things - he considers himself male because that's just all he knows and has never really questioned it or even what it means, it's a bit meaningless to him. He'd just as soon wear a dress because it felt fun at the time. Honestly I don't think Mitch has the words for it and just hasn't had the space or context to ask himself the questions. I suspect Nem has probably clocked him but lets him figure things out, or not! Mitch is fairly unbothered by it, while Nem on the other hand is exiled for a reason.

I think just treat them like a person, and ask yourself some of these things, how do they see themselves, and how violently does this image of themselves change? How do they fit into the world they're in?

Not sure how helpful this was, it's tricky to talk in the abstract! If there's anything else you'd like to ask please feel free! <3

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Oh god I haven't been on tumblr in a while-

IT'S MY GAL

Oh she looks so good!!

DAY TEN OF DRAWING THE BUGS

Today:carmen

(note!: i drew Carmen in a paper esc style since the creator drew her traditionally!)

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Charley: An Exploration Into My Bug’s Lore

Hello everyone(namely the bug army). It’s your girl, Mono. I’ve been putting this off for a while but I have time so this is the post you’re getting <3

TW: Mentions of neglect, alcohol, drunkenness, and overall depressive themes.

Good afternoon ladies, gentlemen and others. You may call me the storyteller, and today I wish to spin you a tale. Not of joy, but of tragedy. I only hope that this take piques what interest you have and moreover that.

The Bug’s name is Charley. They’re 19, almost 20 when the events of Gator Boys occur. They’re a quiet and solitude human who dislikes physical contact, (they’re also severely touch starved) and isn’t one for loud and the big things in life.

And their backstory isn’t one of joy or vibrancy through a life so beautiful it would be as if you were looking through stained glass.

We start out the tale with a woman. A very simple woman. Young, about 19 years old with wavy brown hair, pale skin and green eyes that shown like emeralds. This woman’s name was Alannah.

Now Alannah lived in a bustling town with many taverns and adventurers that would come and go without so much of a trace.

But that little trace left was all it took, for one night, Alannah made her mind up to spend the night at the tavern. She wished for a few drinks and maybe a night with another.

And that she did, buying herself drinks and enjoying a long night at the tavern. Eventually though, she met a man who entranced her. His dark hair, almond brown eyes, and tanned skin a stark contrast to her own.

The two, after getting to know each other briefly, spent a night together in the tavern. The man was an adventurer, carrying a sword at his side at all times.

And when all was said and done, the man left the very next morning, alone, leaving Alannah with only herself as company after paying the room fee.

But Alannah was unbothered, heading back to her apartment to change and fix her hair, before going to work for the day.

Months passed however, and Alannah began to feel ill. She constantly felt like she was bloated and starving and eventually she went to see a healer after she had been woken up in the night by the sharpness of what felt like a stab to the stomach.

The healer examined her, and let her know of the joyous news. Alannah was with child.

Now, Alannah being unmarried and being with child would be the scorn of the busting town but she didn’t care, she only put a hand to her stomach and swore to love and cherish her child.

Oh how Fate pulled its strings.

And the child’s birth not long after was quick and not pain-free. But although difficult, with her brow caked in sweat and her pale arms shaking as she held the child, she decided to give them a name.

Charley. Her little warrior.

And Alannah raised the child, loving and caring for them for several years while her eyes began to catch on. The child had tanned skin and almond eyes, akin to their father. And where she thought that their hair would be brown and lusciously wavy, akin to her own, she was proven incorrect. For the child had hair as dark as coal and as fluffy as wool spun from a sheep’s coat, as if to reference the man she’d only known for a night.

And every time she saw those small things she’d remember the man who had promised his love to her on one fateful night. The thoughts led to her drinking to reminisce, and to fill the emptiness she’d been feeling in her dank soul.

And Charley was four when their mother went out for the night and didn’t come back until the wee hours of the morning, leaving them hungry and cranky.

And when Alannah, the now 23 year-old woman, did come home to her child, she merely gave them a loaf of bread and passed out on her bed after another night of bliss spent.

She spent many days after that reminiscing, and forgetting poor Charley and their needs.

And soon after that next night, she fell into what she’d get so many years ago. The blessing of life growing inside her own.

And for those months of pregnancy with another child who was born from a night of debauchery, Alannah was the model mother, attentive to all of Charley’s needs.

But when the new baby arrived, Charley was pushed to the side as if they were a simple speck of dust in the creation of the great universe.

That new baby wore the same emerald green eyes as Alannah, with hair that resembled rich brown warmness, although fluffy in texture with pale skin akin to his mother’s.

And the boy was named Soren Galedriel, being the second-time mother’s pride and joy.

And it stayed that way for several years. Charley in the shadow of their younger brother, who was confused as to why their mother favored him.

And eventually Charley grew from four to five to six to seven and then to eight. And not long after their eight birthday was when their mother gave up again, passing the responsibility of Soren onto her eldest child.

And Charley was young, only eight years of age and their brother was four, and unbothered by the stresses of the reality the two lived in. Even when she began to to drink again, and when she left the house more often to the tavern to spend time with men who had no true care for her as some type of compensation to fill the lonely hole in the void that was her soul.

And even when coin was scarce and there was little food, Charley would give whatever they had for their brother, who would eat gleefully, unknowing of their sibling’s selfless acts.

And time passed like that for many more years. Eight. Nine. Ten.

And when Charley was ten and Soren six, their mother had returned home after another drunken night at the tavern and had passed out on her bed per the usual, the days that passed were passed differently.

And as history tends to repeat itself, the woman fell with child once more. And during her pregnancy she cared for her children, thinking highly of her motherly skills while in reality, her children were quiet and avoiding her every step.

And Charley, at ten, was the one to send their brother off to school with them and leave early to sell newspapers on the street for little coin.

But that didn’t matter to Alannah, as she didn’t notice, and if she did, she didn’t care.

And many months later did she give birth to her third child. A baby girl with emerald green eyes, akin to her mother, and pale skin that contrasted her warm brown hair that puffed into large, curled strands as she would grow.

And this girl, who resembled her mother so greatly, was her mother’s princess. And she despised it.

The girl was named Míriel, and she did not appreciate the dresses she’d be put in, or the bows she’d wear in her long hair. Instead, she opted to jumping into muddy ditches in the near the markets and speaking to animals who she couldn’t understand.

And after two more years, it was back to how it had been. The cycle repeating once more, except, with a new addition.

And it stayed that way for a few years. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

Charley had been working since they were ten, moving up and up, earning as much coin as they could muster while caring for their two younger siblings, of whom were now eleven and five years of age respectively.

But it was that year that she announced that she was with child again, after another night spent at the tavern with the sin of debauchery tainting her very lips.

And Charley, young, only fifteen years of age began to argue with their mother about her irresponsibility. The arguments always seemed to end when a glass object was slammed against a surface.

And whether it was a glass to the table or a bottle of gin thrown at the wall, Charley’s rage continued to burn.

But when the birth happened, there wasn’t just one. There were two. Such a thing was said to bring misfortune as it was a rarity to occur, especially without complications.

But occur it did, and without complications too. A healthy babe og a girl and a boy. Twins with fluffy brown hair and pale skin. The boy carried their mother’s green eyes, but the girl? No, her eyes were vibrant shade of yellow, almost akin to the gleaming glow of the sun over the horizon.

And as lovely as she’d been during the pregnancy, her mood shifted back to what it had been for year in its repeated pattern of drunkenness.

Soren was the one to name the twins, having scoured many books for the town’s small library for the perfect names.

“Ezeriah,” he named the boy. “It means the lord’s helper, to guide and assist us.” And for the girl, he named her Evanora. “Light bringer,” he described. “She will one day be a blessing from the divines herself as a multitude of light and hope for us.”

And these children were raised just as Míriel had been besides the first year. And Charley, although exhausted and thoroughly done with everything, kept going.

Why, you might ask? Well to them, giving up wasn’t an option.

And that’s how it stayed until Charley was eighteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen.

They had heard of the coin one could acquire as a bounty hunter in Al’Terra, and how well the job paid. And over many nights of skipped meals and deliberation, Charley decided to become one.

The twins were only three when Charley left, promising to return and nailing money home every month.

Soren was only fourteen, and Míriel eight, but they were tasked with caring for two young children while they were tasked with school and Soren’s new stall job at the fish stall in the market after school.

And that’s how it stayed, Charley sending coin back to their town, to their siblings. Sometimes it was a large amount, but that was rare, and only due to them hunting down a dangerous criminal or two. The more common ones were lower paying, but still allowed Charley to send money home without constantly starving.

And that’s how it stayed until Charley’s third month in the bounty hunting job when they received a letter from their brother. And upon opening it, they faced a shocking revelation.

The woman they called their mother, had fallen with child once more, even with many of the old complications from the twins still decently prominent during the pregnancy.

And Charley turned nineteen on the road, crying to themselves that night alone in the forest, before picking themself up and setting off.

And it was many months later when Charley returned home, only briefly, to attend the birth of their new sibling. A boy. And this boy was of fair skin—a tan under glow beneath it, however darker spots, lighter than the color of wooden oak, plagued his small body, chasing him to be more of an outcast that he was about to be.

And Soren, now fifteen, worked constantly for coin as Míriel in all her wild spirits, a constant for her, was left to take her sibling to and fro from school and take care of her youngest brother after school while Soren worked.

And although the now nine year-old didn’t like it, she knew that she had to be the one to do it? Because who else would lend a generous hand to them if they didn’t expect something greedy in return.

And that’s where things stayed until Charley, upon seeing a large bounty for some gator-monsters in a swamp, they took it up. And although these were halflings, Charley did not hold that against them, they simply needed coin.

And that, ladies, gentlemen, and others, led to them getting their leg stuck in a bear trap.

That is unfortunately, all the story time I have for today. I hope you will return to my circle of stories, I enjoyed your eager presence.

. . .+ a small picture of Charley

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Is Marco genderfluid, please confirm.

I think 78% of us headcannon that.

I mean, cats are fluid? Anything’s paw-ssible~

Haven’t quiteeee solidified a gender identity for’m since i dont think he has a whole lotta time to think about it with cattail to keep an eye out for.

Will def think about it, but not saying he is or isnt quite yet!

His VA is fluid so it makes sense rlly~

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being alive is just so exhausting

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@aspenm00n

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NEW BUG YAYAY

My bug Kiki

Bug(Kiki) after the like 5th time getting her leg destroyed in some way

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Giggling and kicking me feet fr

How The Gator Boys Would React If They Found Out You Had Hanahaki(for them):

Notes: I’m like Hamilton. I write like I’m running out of time. I pretty much always am but that’s not the point. This is a big angst hour guys. I’m about to assault your eyes with an ocean of hurt/comfort. ehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe. Take a wild guess to who my favorite is. Enjoy!

Bodie:

Oh lordy lord you have hanahaki for this man? 

You would probably have gotten it after you two bonded after he helped you with your leg, but have been conflicted due to the fact that you’re a hunter and that you’ve been taught all your life that people like Bodie are monsters. 

With that being said, you believe that the two of you could never be together and he could never love you back because you two are just too different. 

That’s when it develops. 

You go out to do your business one night and you cough up a flower petal, and then another flower petal, and then another, until you’ve coughed up a whole flowerhead. 

And you manage to hide it for a while, even hiding it from Timmy once you’d met him. 

You’d dispose of the flowers in private, and if you felt the urge to cough up the flowers in front of Bodie or Timmy, you’d swallow them back down and pray that it stayed that way until you could procure some alone time. 

Your genius(reckless) plan works for a while, that is, until Timmy gets captured. 

You and Bodie end up travelling to the arena, and on the way it only gets worse. Maybe it was due to your guilt over Timmy, or feeling as if you’d betrayed Bodie, but you’d started to cough up blood. 

You and Bodie had stopped for the night to set up camp on the way to Montell, the latter of you two starting a fire and making some gumbo for you two to share. 

You excuse yourself to go do your business and go to a decently close, but far enough away tree, and start practically hurling your lungs. 

Blood and flower petals drop from your lips and you struggle to breathe, wheezing and shaking behind the large oak tree you’d found. 

You didn’t even know how long you’d been gone until Bodie came looking for you, concerned as to if you were okay. 

That’s when he found you, keeled over on your knees, coughing up blood and flowers as you struggled to take in oxygen. 

He would instantly run to your side, shouting “BUG!” in concerned shock. 

He would scoop you up into his arms, holding your back against his chest.

I theorize that he would have a vivid idea of what hanahaki is, enough to decipher what was wrong with you. 

Once you’d stopped retching and wheezing and were breathing slightly calmer, he would slowly turn you to face him. He would ask if it was what he thought it was. 

You nodded hesitantly, unsure of how to hide it any longer than you’d already had.

And when you nodded, pure fear began to course through Bodie’s veins as if he had a dose of maliscythe.

He would ask who it was for, practically begging for you to tell him. He pleaded for you, who looked quite ill and sickly, to tell him because he couldn’t lose anybody else. 

You didn’t even know whether it was worth it to tell him, whether he’d hate you or not love you back. You feared the worst as his pleading continued endlessly.

He asked who it was one final time, his voice practically a whisper, holding back tears from his eyes.

And when you said his name, his stomach dropped. 

Thoughts would run rapidly throughout his head. All this time it had been him? You’d loved him? 

“For how long?” he would ask.

“Since the day you patched up my leg and gave me a warm meal,” You’d respond, tears running down your face as blood splattered your lips. 

Oh and those words would just about break Bodie’s heart. You’d loved him for how long without telling him? 

“I love you too,” he would find himself blurting out, tears falling from his eyes. 

And he meant it, he truly meant it. 

“You do?” you’d ask, hope in your tone, even though it was shadowed with doubt. 

He would look at your face, the tears running down it, and he’d wipe the blood from your lips. 

And he would kiss you there. Just to confirm it. To make you understand that he cared enough, that he loved you. 

And when your lips parted, you felt your airways clear, but no before you turned away from him, and hurled out a whole flower, coughing excess petals.

This would concern him, as he instantly went to aid you, still holding you in his arms. 

But the color had returned to your cheeks, and you wiped your mouth with your sleeve before smiling at Bodie, and kissing him again.

This shocked him, but he kissed you back passionately. 

Later, after making sure you were hanahaki free, he would tell you that you could always trust him and that he’d always be there for you. 

(Bonus: When he gets injured and knocked out in the arena in Montell, you would instantly run to his side, almost pleading for him to wake up to the shock of Roldan and Timmy.)

Timmy:

You fell for him? The tiny one with mommy and daddy issues and a fuckton of trauma? Oh dear. . .

After meeting this little chaotic gator and thinking to yourself that ‘hey, he’s pretty cute,’ and then quickly catching feelings for him. 

The more you got to know him, the more you fell head over heels for him. 

That was when you remembered, ‘Right, I’m a hunter, he’d never love me back.’

A petal had fallen from your mouth after eating gumbo with Timmy and Bodie, and you knew who it was for. 

And after you’d basically told Bodie (he’d figured out) that you were a hunter, it only got worse, as your guilt for having not told Timmy increased dramatically. 

You’d kept coughing up the occasional petal, unbeknownst to Timmy, and it was only a petal,

Until Timmy had gotten captured. 

The betrayal in his eyes and in his voice made your heart sink and those petals pushed up from your throat and you had to restrain the urge to cough them out and you practically begged for them to let him go. 

It only got worse after Bodie found you, the guilt practically eating you alive. 

And while you guys had been travelling to Montell, he’d found out and asked about it and who you had it for. 

You admitted that you liked Timmy and all your guilt practically spilled out to him. 

Bodie realized how bad it was getting and knew how important Timmy was to you too. And he promised to you that the two of you would do everything to get him back. 

And once you’d finally found Timmy, he’d practically cursed you out and your heart sank as you tried to explain yourself.

And the more and more he spoke, the more nausea you felt. That was until you turned and hurled up flower petals, blood dripping from your lips as you wheezed. 

Timmy, who had been practically raging, saw as the blood dripped from your lips as you collapsed right beside the cage.

You apologized as you wheezed, slowly explaining that you never wanted him to get captured and that you genuinely saw him as a friend. 

He became concerned and tried to ask you if you were okay and was trying to reach through the cage to grab you as you felt nausea causing your head to spin.

You continued to apologize as you felt yourself cough up more petals. 

Timmy remembers how Bodie had once told him a story of how one died from coughing up petals because of love. 

Poor baby tries to figure out how to help you, grabbing you by the shoulders as blood dripped down your chin. 

He asked who it was, who you loved. Even though he hadn’t fully forgiven you, he was concerned and couldn’t watch you cough up literal bloody petals and believe wholeheartedly that you were alright. 

You wheezed out a desperate “you!” as you collapsed against the wall. 

Timmy’s reaction wasn’t just one of horror, but of shock and despair. He remembered all the times Bodie had mocked him in light fun for being extra nice to you.

He asked how long you had loved him for, his hands shaking as he did. 

And when you’d said since the day you’d first met, his heart dropped. 

You sputtered more about how you thought he was cute and sweet and how you were sorry, over and over and over again, tears running down your cheeks. 

He had thought you were cute, for a human, that is, when you’d first met. And he’d thought you two were friends until the day he’d been taken. 

He was ultimately conflicted. His head told him that he was still angry, but his heart told him that he loved you. 

You wiped the blood from your lips as you continued to try to explain and he just lost it. 

He closed his eyes, pulling your face towards his, and kissing your lips through the call bars. 

Your heart practically skipped a beat as he did, and you kissed back. 

And once he’d pulled away, he blurted out how he loved you, okay?! How he thought you were cute and kind for a human, but felt betrayed when he thought you were to turn him in. But after you explained, although he was still cross with you, he loved you with his heart, and didn’t wish for you to hurt as you were. 

You felt a pressure dislodge from your lungs and you turned away, hurling a fully bloomed nightshade flower, before collapsing against the stone walls. 

Timmy tried to ask you if you were alright and you smiled, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. You told him that you loved him and that you feared for him and would’ve done anything to get him back. 

And he hugged you through the bars, and you hugged back, pressing a kiss to his brow. 

(Later, Bodie would find out that you were okay and all healed after admitting it to Timmy and Roland learned that he would soon have a child-in-law.)

Marco:

You fell for the flirty (probably british) croc boy. I don’t know how, I mean, I kind of do, but regardless, you fell for him. 

You’d probably get it after episode 3.75 when you meet Marco for the first time and he helps you with your leg. 

That night while falling asleep, you remembered the cute croc boy you’d encountered. You then remembered that you were a hunter, and that you could never be with him because of that. But you still love him enough for the hanahaki to fester. 

You go out to do your business one night when you cough up spotted flower petals. You cover them up with dirt and go back inside, hoping no one will find them. 

And no one does. You go about your days as usual with Timmy and Bodie, never seeing Marco. 

And then Timmy gets captured, and it only gets worse from there. 

While you and Bodie are travelling to Montell, those petals you were coughing up are accompanied by blood. And you’re careful so Bodie never finds out.

And after you leave Bodie and run into Marco, it just keeps getting worse. 

You’re happy to see him, you are, but the guilt inside you curdles like spoiled milk. 

He agrees to meet up with you later at the exit to the sewers, and you agree, hoping that the pounding of your heart in your chest is quiet enough so he can’t hear it. 

Between those times, you throw up bloody flower petals, and even a whole flower as the guilt and shame spread through your body.

But you clean yourself up and make yourself presentable, you can’t fall now. 

And meeting Marco at the exit to the sewers is easy, and so is coming up with a decent plan. 

But when you two are about to head back in, you feel it. The unmistakable feeling of flowers push up your airway. 

Marco asks if you’re alright, and if your leg is bothering you, but he receives no response.

It only takes a few mere seconds until you’re leaning on one of the walls and hurling out the petals, blood sticking to them like red maple syrup. 

Marco immediately rushes to your side, Maria squawking wildly. 

He would immediately recognize what was wrong, and what you had as you wheezed out petals and apologies. 

He would ask who it was, his tone was almost pleading. 

And after you looked at him, eyes watering full of tears and blood dripping down from your lips to the sewer floors, you would say the words. 

“You, Marco.”

And his heart would drop.

You loved him? 

“How long?” he would utter, his voice quiet. 

“Since the day we first met,” You would say. “I’m sorry,” the apology would tumble desperately from your lips. 

And if that didn’t split his heart in two, then I don’t know what would. 

You’d loved him since you’d first met him? Since he’d wrapped your leg and joked with you. 

And he’d seen you earlier that day, and you might’ve seemed a little pale, a little shaken, but he just thought that was because of everything that was happening and how terrible the arena was. 

But no, you were sick. You were sick because you loved him.

You kept spouting apologies, wiping your mouth of blood and petals, meeting his eyes shamefully. 

And what did he do? He grabbed your face and kissed your lips. 

And you froze. He kissed you? Does that mean he really loved you?

And when you two broke from the kiss, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in him as he apologized. 

You asked him if that meant he loved you, shame running its course through your veins. 

He would tell you that he does, and that he will. He would ask you why you didn’t tell him and you, you’d say it was because you didn’t think that he’d ever love you back. 

He told you that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

You smiled, before turning away and coughing out a fully bloomed spotted flower, free of blood. 

He made sure you were okay after that and you waited a few minutes in the embrace of the other before moving back through the sewers and back up to the arena. 

(Bonus: And if Timmy saw you two holding hands, he wouldn’t say a thing.)

Taglist (again, let me know if you’d like to be added):

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy@stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @not-5-rats @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @rustycopper4use @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @headstrashdump @reefhastoomanyaccs @giasparadise @iloveflowers-3 @celestartz @alrischadoeshit @weltthejellyfish @itsargyle

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How The Gator Boys Would Calm You Down From A Panic Attack:

Notes: Wassup Bug Army! I promised that I would write for Gator Boys and I’ve delivered! I also have more cooking so stay tuned! Now enjoy what I’ve been cooking!

Bodie: 

He is such a good guy it’s unreal (Can you tell he’s my favorite? I wanna hug him so bad)

Once he realizes you’re having a panic attack, he would stay calm, so as to not make you panic more, and would think of a way, slowly, to help you calm down. 

If you were to have a panic attack he would undoubtedly be there to calm you down. 

It would’ve probably happened around the time you revealed that you were a hunter, starting to hyperventilate as your brain continued to come up with varying scenarios of Bodie’s reaction and how much he would hate you. (He wouldn’t, but you didn’t think that)

He would be there to reassure you that he would never hate you and to help your breathing slow back to a normal rate.

But lets slow our roll back to how he would calm you down,

He would first try and ask if he could touch you and if you nod, he’d wrap his big, strong arms around you and whisper comforting affirmations to you, rubbing your back in an effort to relax you.

If you shook your head to him touching you, he’d just talk. He’d talk slowly and quietly, but he’d sit with you and either tell you stories from when he was a young gator or whisper affirmations to you. 

All I know is, that gator has GOT to give the best hugs.

And after he’d make you some gumbo and you’d sit with a nice warm bowl as the two of you chatted. 

And then you two would snuggle up under a blanket together and stargaze. 

Timmy:

I think Timmy’s reaction would be less calm if you were having a panic attack, but he would try to help nonetheless.

It would probably happen while you two were walking to meet Lora for the first time. 

After all the stress you’d been through, with how Timmy reacted to seeing you and practically calling you a good-for-nothing traitor, your brain had been conjuring thoughts about how much Timmy hated you.

When you got too quiet walking down the hall instead of conversing with TImmy, he grew concerned. You, on the other hand, weren’t doing so well. Your breathing had quickened due to your internal panic and your rapidly panicking thoughts started to take over. 

Timmy’s concern for you increased as he went, “Hey Bug? You alright?” and got no response. 

You, on the other hand, were having jelly legs and felt as if you couldn’t breathe. 

It took Timmy a hot minute, but he realized what was going on, basically going, “oh, oh shit!” and internally panicking at you having a panic attack. 

He would turn you towards him and take your hands in his, telling you to breathe with him and asking what’s wrong.

You are probably crying softly at this point and through your tears you tell him how you think he must hate you.

Timmy, who up until this point had been having a pretty shitty time, and had sort-of realized that you weren’t trying to have him captured and taken here, realized that you had been here too, trying to get him and Bodie, because Bodie was here, out safely. And because there were now more people to get out and the plan had to change, you were understandably freaking out. 

It was honestly a miracle to not have freaked out sooner. Maybe that was the adrenaline speaking. 

He would stutter but would sink to the floor, telling you how he did resent you at first, but later learned that you didn’t mean to get him caught up in here and that it was just a terrible situation overall. 

He would tell you that he doesn’t hate you and that it’s okay. 

Poor bby would comfort you until you felt well enough to get back up and go to meet his mom with him. 

It would be awkward but  the two of you would make up.

Ngl, this is my theory for why he said that he got caught and not saying that you got him caught.

Marco:

Undoubtedly would happen when you two are speaking in the sewers. 

While you two were chatting, you went quiet and he asked if you were okay, or if your leg was bothering you. 

You didn’t answer, but felt the weight of the day’s events weigh you down heavier and heavier, everything finally dawning on you. 

Your head filled with thoughts, practically drowning you as your breathing quickened. 

Marco immediately knew what was up, due to his decent observation skills and Maria being his emotional support bird™ 

He would gently place a hand on your shoulder, and due to your exhaustion and subsequent panic attack, you would basically crumble into his arms, crying into him. 

He would be surprised at first, but would wrap his arms around you and bring your head to his chest. 

Similar to Bodie, because Bodie definitely taught him how to do this, he would rub your back in a comforting manner and tell you that you were going to get through this, that all of the group, including him and you were going to get through this. 

Once your breathing slowed, he’d ask you if you were alright once more, and then he would ask if your leg was alright. 

If nothing else was wrong, you’d wipe your tears on your cloak and you two would continue back through the sewers. 

And he’d probably check on you throughout the rest of the arena time, just because he knows you probably need some comforting. 

Taglist(lemme know if you wanna be added!):

@rozeliyawashereyall @willowve01 @asmrbrainrot @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy@stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @piffany666 @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @lunaritychuwolf @not-5-rats @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @rustycopper4use @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @recated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry @lunnats @lightdragon789 @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid @astralbulldragon13 @ccstiles @puffin-smoke @fruity0salad @takashishihoin @headstrashdump @reefhastoomanyaccs @giasparadise @iloveflowers-3 @celestartz @alrischadoeshit @weltthejellyfish @itsargyle

[fangsshadow]

It serves everything.

The first meeting? Perfect.

Dialog? Amazing.

The brief Warren backstory? Excellent.

The only one bed trope? The best part.

You know what time it is

Warren x Bodie chapter 1

The job of a hunter is simple: set the trap, catch the prey, and sell them off to the highest bidder. This had been the life Warren had led for the last 7 years, and he saw no problem with it. He was hunting down the monsters from the wild and bringing them in to either fight for entertainment, or work hard manual labor.

Warren considered himself an amazing hunter. Every half blood he set his eyes on, he caught.

Well, that is all except for one. Lately he had been stationed with his crew at the swamps. There was a particularly hard-to-get gator that roamed the area, and no matter how many traps they set out, they all came back empty. This thing was really getting on his nerves, and he'd barely even gotten a glimpse of it!

It was another day out at the swamp. He had gone alone that day, since none of the other hunters he was assigned with wanted to work the swamp anymore. They had all given up on it, accepting that the gator wasn't going to be caught, but Warren refused to quit. He was rowing the boat out to one of the bigger traps because he noticed it had been set off.

"God dammit" he cursed as he looked at the trap. Stuck in it's metal teeth was a piece of driftwood that had been split in half.

He had to hand it to the thing, it was smart. He flopped back onto the seat of the boat as he sighed. He really wanted to give up at this point, it was clear the thing was smart, smarter than the others. It had even taken one of the other hunters to god knows where. Even with these thoughts, he knew he couldn't give up.

He decided to keep himself busy by checking the other traps, and re-setting the ones that had been tripped using a stick or some drift wood. When he was checking one of them, though, he felt something hit the side of his boat.

Looking over the side of the boat, he saw nothing but a ripple in the water below him. While he was debating whether or not his mind was playing tricks on him, he felt another, stronger hit on the other side of his boat. This time, he was able to catch a glimpse of a tail. His heart rate spiked as he saw the flash of green, reaching down to his side to grab his knife.

He slowly and quietly watched the water surrounding the boat, waiting to see even a glimpse of the monster that lurked beneath the depths. The water was still, the only thing moving it was the breeze whistling by.

BANG!

Before Warren could react, a form hit the side of his boat before leaping out of the water. It growled menacingly as it stared at Warren, looking like it was going to eat him. This is the monster he had been hunting all this time, staring at him in all it's horrifying glory.

Warren stepped back in surprise, not realizing his mistake. Before he could correct himself, thought, it was too late.

The boat threw Warren off with a splash before it too was sent ajar, completely turning itself over.

In the confusion of the capsizing boat, Warren didn't realize how close he was to the trap. He tried his best to get his footing on the bottom of the murky water, but in his attempts his shoulder hit the metal and

CRUNCH!

Warren screamed in pain as the trap clamped down on his shoulder, or at least, he tried to.

The only thing that came out was bubbles as his lungs sucked in the water around him. He was confused and couldn't find his footing in the mud below him.

After a bit of thrashing around, he was able to get his feet on the bottom of the swamp, and could stand with slight difficulty.

Thankfully, the swamp waters only went up to his chest, and he was able to stand above water and breath. Or rather, sputter and throw up the water that had made it into his lungs. His vision was blurry and his body felt like red hot pain, especially near his shoulder where the trap had latched onto him.

He looked around to try and find the shore, and he noticed a head peeking out a few feet away from him.

"Wha- stay away from me! Go on, git!" He yelled as he stumbled back towards the shore, hoping to get to it before the gator could get to him.

He stared down the creature as he slowly made his way onto the shore, thankful as he watched it lose interest in him and swim away.

When he finally dragged himself onto the muddy grass surrounding the swamp, he felt himself retch again, throwing up the rest of the water that had sat in his lungs, as well as his breakfast.

All Warren could do was lay there in excruciating pain, trying to regain his energy and keep himself awake.

Meanwhile, Bodie was swimming away in the other direction, glad he'd delt with the hunter that had been ruthless in his attempts at capturing him. Some of the traps he'd been laying were dangerous, and could have severely hurt Bodie if he wasn't careful. Not to mention if Timmy or Bug had accidentally tripped them...

Speak of the devil, Bodie thought as he turned the corner and his house came into view. Bug was sitting on the front porch watching the swamp around them.

"Heya Bug," Bodie called out as he stood up and climbed the stairs up to the house, shaking the water off as he went.

"What's up!" Bug smiled at Bodie, but faltered when they noticed the weird look on Bodie's face. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Hm?" Bodie was surprised by the question, but he knew he was never the greatest actor when hiding emotions, "it's, well..."

Bug waited patiently as they watched Bodie sit down on the rocking chair beside them.

"I uh, came across one of the hunters today. The big one with the red hair," Bodie explained.

"Warren?" Bug's face shifted to one of concern, knowing how Warren gets when he can't catch something, "what happened?"

"Well, I found 'em resetting the traps, and so I decided to give 'em a bit of a scare, and..." Bodie felt guilty as he explained what happened to bug.

"And, what?" Bug grew more concerned as Bodie explained the chain of events.

"I... Flipped his boat over and... He got caught in a trap," Bodie had left Warren to his own devices in the moment, but now looking back, it wasn't his greatest idea.

"He what??" Bug jumped up from where they'd been sitting, "did you help him? Is he ok??"

"He was able to get to the shore last I saw..." Bodie watched as Bug thought for a minute, before they started heading towards the boat. "Where you goin?"

"I'm going to help Warren," Bug stated as they got into the boat and unhooked the rope holding the boat to the deck.

Bodie questioned if he should follow Bug and help the injured hunter as well, but then he realized that Bug wouldn't be strong enough to help Warren alone.

Sighing, Bodie hopped onto the boat with Bug and started rowing to where he'd last seen Warren.

Warren struggled to sit up on the swamp's bank. All he could feel was red hot pain coming from his shoulder, making him feel dizzy and like he was going to throw up again.

Somehow, he was able to sit up slightly without puking again. His efforts were fruitless as, when he opened his eyes and turned his head to peek at his shoulder, he couldn't help but wretch onto the mud beside himself at the sight of his shoulder.

His vision spotted as he did his best to breath and blink away the darkness ebbing at the sides of his vison.

Before he could try to sit up some more, though, he heard some splashing nearby.

Fear shot through him as his head snapped up. Although his vision was blurry, he was able to see, a boat? And it was heading straight at him.

The panic that had shot through him was replaced with relief, as he tried to call out to the boat heading towards him, but found his throat was too soar from throwing up multiple times.

As the boat came onto the shore, two figures jumped out of it.

"Warren!" One called out to the injured hunter. The voice sounded familiar... It was...

"Careful bug, he don't look too well for ware," the other, much much bigger figure warned.

Bug... That's right! Bug was the one that got taken by the monsters. But, how? How were they still alive? And who was it behind them.

"B...ug..?" Warren's throat felt like fire as he spoke.

"Warren, you're still awake!" Bug exclaimed as they knelt down next to him.

Warren let himself collapse onto the ground again as Bug assessed his shoulder.

"Ouch... That looks bad," Bug hissed as if it were their shoulder in the trap and not his, "I don't remember the traps being this big. This must be a new one."

Warren, vison still blurred, watched the other figure kneel down on his other side, the one with the trap on it.

"Yeah, poor guy looks like he's about to pass out," the other, more southern voice spoke.

"Do you think you can get it off of him?" Bug asked the other figure.

"Yep, I think I can, but it's gonna hurt like hell," the other figure explained, "ya might wanna hold him down a bit."

Warren felt what he presumed to be Bug's hands grab him and press his uninjured shoulder and chest firmly down.

After that, he felt the other figure grab the trap, sending ripples of pain through his nerves.

"Alright. Ready? 3... 2... 1!" The figure counted down before red hot pain coarsed through Warren's body as the trap was pried off of him.

He grit his teeth and tried not to yell out in agony, his gut twisting and his head growing light due to the pain.

Finally, the metal trap was off him, and all that was left was the dull throbbing pain of his injury.

He could hear Bug and the figure that pried the trap off of him were talking, but he couldn't make out the words, as his ears were ringing slightly and all he could focus on was the pain.

Before he knew it, black dots started to cloud his vision, the darkness growing before he felt his conscious slip away, passing out.

"I'm so glad we made it in time, he looks really bad," Bug said as they looked down at Warren, seeing that he passed out from the pain. "What were you thinking, leaving him here?!" Bug's head snapped up as they began berating Bodie.

"Well what else was I supposed to do?" Bodie defended himself, "there is no way he would have let me help him."

Bug just sighed, he did indeed have a point. Knowing Warren, he would have fought till he passed out if Bodie tried helping him. It was honestly surprising he let the two help him at all, but he must have been in so much pain he didn't think about there being another option.

Bodie began to pick Warren's limp body up, and gently carried him over to the boat, with the help of Bug steadying it.

The two then rowed back, Bodie paddling while Bug kept an eye on Warren.

When they finally got back and into the house, Bodie asked, "now, where are we gonna put him?"

"Uh, oh the couch, duh?" Bug giggled as they began to move things off of the couch so Bodie could place Warren down on it.

"But what if he gets blood on it?" Bodie questioned before whining, "I don't want blood on my couch."

"Oh fine, you big baby" Bug rolled their eyes as they grabbed a towel and placed it where Warren's arm would be. "There. Happy?"

"Very," Bodie said as he gently placed Warren on the couch, said man still unconscious.

The gator then made his way towards the kitchen to grab bandages and salve. Bug followed him in to find a towel to clean up the blood on Warren. They didn't know what to say, as they were still processing what happened, so they joked, "So what's your master plan Bodie? Getting all the hunters caught in a trap, fixing them up, and then feeding them gumbo until they love you? Then what? World domination?"

The question was met with a smack of a towel as Bodie defended himself. "You know damn right that ain't what I'm doin. He was an accident and you were just being an idjit"

Bug gasped before pushing Bodie. Or at least, attempting to push the massive gator who started cracking up at their reaction. He was glad that Bug was here to cheer him up, as well as help when Warren wakes up.

"Now then, where did I put the bandages and salve? Or did you use all of em?" Bodie pointed an accusatory finger towards Bug and they held their hands up in defense.

"I did not use all of them! I think Marco forgot to put them away when he replaced mine. I'll go get them," Bug said before throwing the towel they had grabbed over their shoulder and hobbling their way to their- I mean, Marco's room.

As they passed by Warren to get to Marco's room, though, they stopped and took a longer look at Warren's injuries.

"Hey Bodie! Could you come and put some pressure on Warren's arm? It's bleeding a lot more than I thought," Bug called to Bodie who came out into the living room to do as Bug asked.

Bodie took the towel from Bug's shoulder and did as they asked with a nod, carefully holding the rag on top of Warren's arm, putting pressure on it but not too much. Bug then hobbled off and left Bodie to tend to Warren.

That left Bodie time to think. He honestly didn't know what to do once Warren woke up, and he knew the hunter wouldn't be so happy when he did. He was just glad that Bug was here, and that they could help explain everything to Warren and keep the man from trying to hurt Bodie.

After only a minute or so of sitting there and putting pressure on Warren's arm, Bug poped their head back into the living room.

"Found it!" They said with a smile, handing the bandages and salve to Bodie.

"Thank ya kindly Bug," Bodie said as he took the supplies from them and handed them the towel he was holding to Warren's arm, "could you get this wet for me?"

" 'course!" Bug said before grabbing the towel and scurrying off to the kitchen to quickly wet it and come back.

"Thank you again Bug," Bodie took the now damp cloth and used it to clean off the blood surrounding the wound.

With a bit of a struggle and some help from Bug, he was also able to take Warren's shirt off so he could properly bandage the man. He then got to work on applying the salve and bandages onto his shoulder and upper arm, looping them occasionally across his chest.

"There we go," Bodie looked down at his work, happy that they had enough to properly bandage the man. He also took a mental note that they needed to get more, as Bug and now Warren had used all of them.

"Well then, now the difficult question," Bug sighed, "where are we gonna put him?"

Bodie looked up at Bug in confusion, "what do you mean?"

"I mean, where's he gonna sleep?" Bug explained before pointing to his legs that were almost halfway dangling off the couch, "he can't sleep on the couch, he's too big."

"Well, you make a good point," Bodie sighed as he got up from where he was kneeling beside the couch to also assist the situation, "and we certainly can't put him in Marco's room, 'cus you're already stayin there."

The two just stood there in thought before Bug got an idea. "what if he slept in your bed?"

Bodie whipped his head over to look at Bug as if they were crazy, "in my bed? Then where am I supposed to sleep?"

"In your bed too, duh," Bug giggled at Bodie's expression, "your bed is ginormous! It could easily fit two people."

"Yeah Bug, but you forget one thing," Bodie says before pointing at his tail, "it already do fit two people."

Bug just rolled their eyes and laughed, "come on Bodie, we have nowhere else to put him, and I certainly don't think Timmy is gonna wanna house him."

Bodie grumbled a bit before agreeing to let Warren stay in his room. He knelt down and slowly picked Warren up, making sure not to put too much pressure on his bandages as he carried him to his bed.

When they got to the room, Bodie made sure to carefully place Warren in his bed, getting Bug's help with the blankets before tucking the unconscious man into the bed.

"There you go big feller," Bodie chuckled as he made sure Warren was comfortable and that he wasn't putting pressure on his hurt shoulder.

Bodie and Bug then left the room silently to give the hunter some rest, and to regroup with each other and plan things out.

"Now then, what am I suposed to do with two injured people under my roof?" Bodie sighed as he flopped onto the couch.

"I'm not that injured anymore," Bug huffed as they swung their bandaged leg back and forth, "I'm pretty sure I'm well enough to get these bandages off soon."

Bodie laughed at them as they continued to swing their leg back and forth, "well, guess then you gotta start earning your keep." Bodie chuckled even more as Bug stopped swinging their leg and instead hobbled over to the couch and sat next to him, acting as if their leg was in pain.

"Alright then, you and your 'injured' leg can stay here, and I'll go cook up supper."

[fangsshadow]

[fangsshadow]

[fangsshadow]

?

[fangsshadow]

Hmmmmmmm.....

What would happen if in ASMR "Labyrinth", the traveler shared........

Let's imagine :3

**traveler wants to know, would he like it or not**

In the end, I want to add >>>>

As soon as possible, the art with my bug ( and their story) will be ready.

So soon I will be able to fully join the bug army! ! ! :D

[fangsshadow]

@aspenm00n

Are fedoras really that bad?

YES YES THEY ARE