#the wyn tag

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

I got a fancy new journal that I personalized for Wyn's Curse of Strahd campaign, but I neglected to realize that having something like that means that I need to actually WRITE in it, and I have... not the greatest handwriting.

Still, it's very pretty.

[hirokiyuu]

Heddwyn "Wyn" Caldera is a freshman from Diasomnia. He's well known in alchemical circles for multiple revolutionary breakthroughs in the world of potions, the first of which he discovered at eight years old. Though invited to NRC last year at age thirteen, he waited a year before accepting a position at the school.

here he is my baby boy......!!!! been tossing this kid around in my head a lot lately and wanted to make a profile card for him to show him off to the world. imagine me as a proud parent and ive pulled this out of my wallet.

based off the black cauldron. both the movie and like. the cauldron itself. naturally he is good at potions. since the cauldron is essentially a mcguffin wanted by everyone the idea is that he's extremely good at what he does but is also pretty vulnerable to being used. he's also very stone-faced bc he's...... made of stone............ get it.............

template is from here!

[seasaltandcopper]

vampire hunter AU Pt 2

[Prev] | [Next]

Summary: Mal is handed over to Teddy by the vampire hunters.

(This one got longer than I expected, and is still mostly set up for the story and dynamics, but it's also chock full of whump, so I feel like I'm splitting the difference.)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Profanity, mentions of torture, blood and gore, violence, manhandling, nonsexual nudity, imprisonment, starvation, dehumanization, ‘it’ as a pronoun (only used by one character)

“Mal.”

One word. One name. It dropped from the hunter’s lips and snagged Mal’s attention like a fishhook through the gut. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard someone say his real name out loud.

Years, probably.

And now it spat from the mouth of this woman, this hunter, like a curse. Like some personal ax she had to grind with him.

Like she knew him.

Stiffly, Mal raised his head enough to get a better look at her. Short. Subtly curvy, but muscular. Dark skin, deep brown eyes, well-kept hair, all leather and denim and piercings with an attitude to match. The ensemble practically screamed, pick a fight with me and see what happens.

Teddy smelled like clean sweat, gun oil, and the intoxicating vibrancy of blood flowing through her veins. Life. Food.

God, he was starving. He was so fucking hungry it hurt. More than hurt. Hurt was a broken arm, a knife digging between his ribs, the burn of a cigarette put out on the arch of his foot—this was closer to losing a piece of his soul. Feeling it shredded and screaming in agony without relief.

Mal swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth before he choked on it, and tried to ignore the twisting in his gut as the smell of them permeated the cramped space. He held Teddy's gaze, sunken eyes peering out through a mess of filthy hair, but the flash of recognition he hoped for never came. She stayed unfamiliar. A stranger.

But one who obviously thought she knew him.

“Today’s your lucky day, bloodsucker,” she said, eyes flint-hard and sharp enough to cut. “You’re coming home with me.”

What?

Mal blinked. It took longer than it should have for reason to catch up and plunge icy fingers past the fog of exhaustion and pain. He’d expected—well, more of the usual. Another guest looking to blow off some steam, or getting “justice” for someone Mal had likely never laid eyes on in his life.

This wasn’t the first time the hunters had brought in a friend; honestly, the bleak-humored side of Mal was surprised they hadn’t thought to charge admission. Probably could’ve made a nice little profit on the side.

Still, the script stayed the same: they took him out to hurt him, and after they got tired or bored or felt they made their point, someone dragged Mal back to his box. Time passed, alone, in the dark—sometimes hours, sometimes days—before he was fed just enough blood to heal the worst of his wounds.

Then the cycle repeated.

Over and over and over. A horrific, never ending nightmare, but a familiar one.

Leaving with another human—no, a hunter, who knew his name, how did she know his name, who was she?—smashed every established pattern to pieces. Unease tangled like thorny brambles inside his rib cage, clawed at the back of his throat.

Mal couldn’t ask what the hell she meant; he couldn’t even open his mouth, muzzled like this. Cautiously, he glanced towards Brooks, hoping for some kind of clarification.

The hunter chuckled. Hooked his thumbs in his belt loops, and leaned back against the wall, smug as could be. The nasty glint in his eyes sent a cold tremor down Mal’s spine; he dropped his gaze back to his lap.

Brooks was one of the ones who’d taken a personal liking to Mal, early on. Back when they’d been uncommonly cruel in their attempts to wear him down, testing the limits of their creativity with techniques that still left Mal nauseous to think about.

If Mal’s heart had been capable of more than sluggish, off tempo beats, it would’ve raced.

“You got your own restraints for transport, or should I write up a slip for loaner gear?”

Reaching behind to unclip something from her belt, Teddy flashed a standard issue set of cuffs and a muzzle, then tossed it to him. “Here.”

Brooks snagged the gear out of the air. Stepped away from the wall with a sigh. Tensing, Mal pulled in a shallow breath through his nose, and watched Brooks out of the corner of his eye. The man’s black-polished boots crunched on the grit strewn floor.

The woman made a noise at the back of her throat. Derisive. “And hose him down or something before you bring him out. Smells like someone left roadkill in a hot van.”

Brooks snorted. A half-beat later, the toe of his shiny, black-polished boot slammed into Mal’s hip. It tore a pained exhale from him as he lurched to the side, the clatter of metal singing against brick. Catching himself on his forearm, Mal winced at the stripe of skin he lost for his trouble. Blood welled up in dark beads, staining the pale firebrick with more of the same.

Dead blood.

It wouldn’t satisfy like fresh, human blood would. It didn’t smell like anything at all. But the sight of it still tied Mal’s insides in knots as the instinct to feed spiked in response.

All his body understood was that it was starving, and that looked like blood, even if logic knew it was only a trick.

“Look, I don’t give a shit about the transfer order. Whatever. You want the vamp, you can have it. But we’re not runnin’ a grooming service. You want the thing washed and styled, do it on your own damn time.” Eyes still on the other hunter, Brooks tangled a gloved fist in Mal’s hair and hauled him upright. “Alright, shitsucker, let’s go. Up.”

Scrambling to get his legs under himself before Brooks left him with a bald patch, Mal twisted and choked on the words trapped in his throat. The sudden shift in gravity left his head spinning, limbs somehow both too stiff, and too wobbly to fully bear his weight.

Legs shaking, Mal planted his feet as best he could, but stayed on his feet. Barely. 

Just do it. Hurry up and get it over with, I can’t—

Brooks came to the same conclusion a second later. He hissed an irritated sigh, and released his grip on Mal's hair. Unsupported, Mal sagged on his feet, brows pinched in a pained grimace.

“Lazy motherfucker,” Brooks muttered. “Told you. Give ‘em an inch…”

Yeah, and I'd tear your throat out, you fucking bastard.

Strong fingers dug into Mal’s arm as Brooks worked to unlock the manacles. Heavy iron clattered to the bricks. Then again, as Brooks stooped and did the same for Mal’s ankles.

Without the added weight, Mal felt marginally steadier on his feet. And uncomfortably naked.

Gingerly, he ghosted bony fingers over the red, raw patches of skin circling his wrists. Black humor bubbled in Mal’s chest, and he swallowed back a laugh. Now he felt naked—without the extra pounds of iron weighing him down—but not because he hadn’t worn clothes in years.

On his list of priorities, Mal's desire for pants had dropped depressingly low over the years.

At least when Brooks cuffed him again, arms behind this time, he left Mal’s ankles unshackled. The muzzle went last, and a part of Mal hated himself for the way he tilted his head without prompting, obediently offering Brooks better access to the buckles; the rest of him didn’t give a shit, as long as it got the fucking thing off faster.

Brooks tugged it, giving the muzzle a disgusted look as no small amount of crusted gunk and scabbed tissue pulled free too. Mal barely noticed. After days suffocating in the thing, he was just glad to have it off.

He sighed. Worked his jaw, and held back a groan as sore muscles twinged all the way down his neck. Dried bits of filth Mal definitely did not want to identify crumbled loose with the movement. More of it itched under his nose and around his mouth, but the worst still matted the scruffy mess of facial hair stubbornly clinging to his jaw.

Even when they deigned to leave the muzzle off, there was only so much grooming he could do without access to water or rags or full use of his hands.

At some point Mal just gave up trying.

Gloved fingers snagged his chin, pulling Mal from his thoughts. He flinched. Not enough to pull loose—even reacting blindly Mal was smarter than that—but enough to earn an amused snort.

“Maybe it could use a hose down,” Brooks muttered. He ghosted a leather-clad thumb over Mal’s chin, squinting. “Ehh.” Then shrugged, wiped his finger clean on Mal’s shoulder, and lifted the replacement muzzle to fit in place.

Mal shivered as worn leather kissed his skin again. It sat overlapping some of the bleeding lines chafed by the old one, bright stinging pain sinking into a deeper, throbbing burn as Brooks cinched the straps tight.

At least this one was purely to prevent accidental bites—just a simple, boxy wire guard and leather straps—not like the ones Mal was used to, meant to completely immobilize the jaw.

He could still open his mouth. Take a real, full breath. Run his tongue over the outside of his teeth, or lick his lips. Talk.

This was fine. Mal could deal with this. This was—better.

After double checking his handiwork, Brooks laid a heavy palm on the back of Mal’s neck. He tensed, visceral disgust tingling down his back and making his skin crawl. Touch didn’t carry many pleasant connotations these days, but being touched by Brooks left Mal feeling genuinely sick.

The hunter squeezed once, pinching with his index finger and thumb. A warning.

“Let’s go,” Brooks ordered. “Move.”

Gentle pressure turned to a vice grip, and Mal hissed. His entire body was an ugly patchwork of marks—welts, burns, the scabbed over remnants of a recent caning, bruises layered on bruises; and his neck was no exception.

Brooks’ fingers molded themselves to older blue-green imprints, pressing hard. A sharp boot-tap to the knobby part of Mal’s ankle followed, and he cringed at the pathetic, wounded-animal sound that rose in his throat. Lurching forward, he struggled to stay on his feet and limp along at Brooks’ pace.

“I’m—trying,” Mal rasped, frustrated. He tripped again on the lip of the kiln. Would’ve fallen if Brooks hadn’t literally had him by the scruff. Shit.

The world pitched. Dark spots burst across Mal’s vision.

“Quiet.”

Fuck you.

Teddy followed silently, a dark smudge in the corner of Mal’s vision as Brooks manhandled him out of the room. Up one flight of concrete stairs. And another. Past the living quarters, and then into a part of the compound Mal only remembered seeing once: a pair of heavy steel doors that led outside.

Out, to the wide, open world and a night sky Mal hadn’t laid eyes on in years. He didn’t notice he was shaking until they stopped. Blinking rapidly, his vision strobed. He felt light, fuzzed at the edges, like he was about to pass out.

The pressure vanished from the back of his neck. Replacing it, a hand curled around his upper arm. Skin to bare skin. Warm skin, and slender, strong fingers. Though Teddy's hands were smaller than Brooks’, one of them still managed to encircle the entire circumference of Mal’s bicep.

There just wasn’t anything there anymore.

Side by side, Mal figured he stood a good five or six inches taller than her, but she probably weighed more. She sure as hell could’ve picked him up if she felt inclined.

“I got it from here,” she said, to Brooks.

A nod. “Sure. An’ listen, you change your mind, you can always drop it back off. Teddy, right? No questions asked.”

“Mm.”

“Yeah, alright,” Brooks said. “You got my number if you need anything—” A pointed pause. “Y’know, anything—handlin’ advice, someone to share a drink with…”

Grimacing, Teddy shot Brooks a look that would’ve vaporized a weaker man on the spot. “Yeah,” she drawled. “I got it.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, Brooks took the hint. “Alright, alright, Jesus.”

Eyes the color of dark amber settled on Mal’s face, and this time he visibly grimaced at the attention. Swallowing hard, he tried unsuccessfully to push back against rising anxiety as Teddy addressed him directly.

“You try anything and I’ll break both your legs, and drag you the rest of the way to the truck by your hair. Got it?” He nodded.

Yeah. Mal got it. And his tentative hopes for ending up somewhere even marginally better than here dwindled by the second.

Warm, sweet smelling night air folded around them as they stepped outside. Grumbling to himself, Brooks turned and vanished into the compound without a word, not even sparing a glance back.

He’d probably agonized more over tossing out an old pair of boots. Or getting shot down by a cute hunter.

With a sharp bang, the doors pulled closed behind them. Sighing, Teddy tightened her grip. Something Mal couldn’t identify flickered across her face. Disgust? Anger? Whatever it was, Mal blinked and it was gone.

“C’mon. I wanna beat the sunrise home.”

AN: Annnnnd we're about to start really getting into the meat of it. I actually planned for more to happen in this chapter and had to shove that in the next one, and this still ended up 3x longer

Next chapter we get to meet Will, the other half of the hunter duo

Taglist: @whumpsday @writereleaserepeat @thecyrulik @lookbluesoup

[tricos-here]

something something podtwin parallels something

[its-tea-time-darling]

Get to know me!

thanks for the tag @ulfrsmal <3

Nickname: tea

Height: Tall™ (adapted this from u alskdjjfdkas)

The last thing I googled: double checked if libra was my star sign by googling the german translation asdklfj

Amount of sleep: 8 or 9+ hours, sometimes up to 11 or 12

Dream job: i like the one i have now! 🥰 for privacy reasons however i cant tell yall what it is alsdkfjsajkldajf. i can say i studied a STEM subject

Favorite song: tough one!! ill say Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince by... you can guess who alsdkfjaklsjfdjkla.

Movie/Book that Summarises Me: ohhhhhhhhhh fancy ask. hm. i wanna say Die 13 1/2 Leben des Käptn Blaubärs by Walter Moers

Favorite instrument: uhhhhhhh. ill say recorder bc i played it for a long time and rly liked the music

Aesthetic: ?????????....................... i have no idea. maybe ill be basic and say cottagecore? idk, books tea nature fireplaces fall winter and so on i think

Favorite authors: Sally Rooney, Walter Moers, Casey McQuiston, Alice Oseman, my best friend whose name i cant say for privacy reasons but <3333 her work, Kim de l'Horizon, Simone Meier

(walter my dude you can be proud to be the one man in that list 😂😂😂)

Random fun fact: i've lived north of the polar circle for a total of... 1.5 years in my life

tagging: @ivesterrarium @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom @pathsofoak @scrapsofinspiration (I REMEMBERED YOUR URL LOOK AT ME, living and learning 🌱!!!!!!) @impossiblebird (idk how much ur on tumblr these days alice but hii if you are lsdk<3) @hoesaekyoongi (take it away shaaaaaaa<33333) @swanfloatieknight

[lookbluesoup]

My Take on Fourchenault (complicated)

Making this my own (very long) post and want to say right out the gate that even though seeing several other posts about him inspired me to write my own thoughts out, I'm not here to tell anyone else they're wrong! This is fandom! You're valid! While I don't expect a lot of people to read this and mostly just need to get it out of my head, if I get a bunch of notes on this bashing other fans or parroting hate for specific characters, I will turn reblogs off, and will block people if they try to make this into Drama. Whether you like Levidad or not, be nice.

I also think characters and their actions can mean different things to different people, that's partly the beauty of fiction. Especially in FFXIV, there's a big cinematic element. There's a lot of characters, and background information, that is either left vague or only implied, because they're not relevant to the Main Plot. There's also a lot of subtlety to the FF story, a lot of showing rather than telling, and a lot of different people writing the dialogue, translating it, and building off it. And that leaves gaps that every player will have to fill in for themselves, based on their own reference points. What stands out to one player might be insignificant to another. We are all playing a different game, at the end of the day. I'm not here to tell you, reader, or Fandom at large, what to think. I'm just invested enough in this character to want to share my own thoughts about him!

Overall:

I think he's complicated. I believe he loves his children a helluva lot, but I also think he abusive (partly out of ignorance.) I don't think he's a villain, but I do think he makes some very harmful mistakes and that some of his behavior is very selfish. Which makes him interesting. And I'm very curious what role he'll play as MSQ continues in years to come, what else we might learn about him.

Because this is SO LONG I'm putting my expanded thoughts under a cut!

On Needing Control / Criteria for Abuse

So mostly what I'm going to talk about to start is... warning signs. I'll acknowledge my own bias here in that I'm a psych student who's had to do lots of research, research papers, reviewed case studies, etc. with a particular focus in trauma and abuse. I've spent years IN therapy, coming out of an emotionally abusive home as a neurodivergent and physically disabled person with several (clinically diagnosed) narcissists in my family, and yeah, the issue of parents who are... Overly controlling. Stubborn. Self-certain. And applauded by the outside community, seen as Respectable people in their insular social groups... Hits close to home. So what Fourchenault means to me is absolutely influenced by this background.

A parent can be affectionate a lot of the time, can love their children, be very devoted to family, and still absolutely be abusive. Especially in emotional areas. And, also important - the abusers usually do not see themselves as abusers. They are Protectors. Lovers. Family. Leaders. Victims. Heroes in their narrative. They can believe this so much and so loudly that they convince the people they are abusing, too.

Additionally, doing abusive things does NOT automatically make someone irredeemable, evil, or a villain. It is a flaw, a behavior that can be unlearned, and can be performed out of ignorance and without deliberately trying to hurt someone. I do not think Levidad (Look don't ask me to write out Fourchenault every time this is a long enough essay already) is trying to hurt his family, or that he wants to. And I do think he recognizes some of his mistakes by Endwalker's finale and is on a path to improvement.

But in emotionally abusive homes, you often see dynamics at play where affection becomes a tool for control. Children are given moments of unfailing devotion and love and care as long as they do what's expected of them, but when they misbehave (according to that parent) the affection is withdrawn, or threats are made, even or especially threats the parent doesn't mean, because it's really only about having the child obey. I've seen and experienced this in real life, where parents would threaten to kick their kids out for even minor infractions, just as a scare tactic to keep control, despite having no intention of actually kicking the kid out.

And fear? Is an HUGE motivator for this kind of abuse. Parents can do absolutely wicked things to their children because of a 'greater good' mentality, because they're trying to prevent what they see as greater harm.

People who need control, who are stubborn, who have a temper, might be prone to these tactics. All things Levidad is shown to possess in spades. (I'll expand on some of this further below)

And this dynamic often teaches kids and spouses to desire the affection they know is there, and want, while also being afraid to lose that affection by displeasing their loved one. It may sometimes cause them to become argumentative and self-righteous in their own way (cough, ARR Alphinaud, cough). It can make them belligerent, or insecure and uncertain of themselves, or their worthiness to be loved (Alisaie.) It teaches them to keep secrets, and go behind a loved one's back (Ameliance.)

Some other important aspects of this kind of dysfunctional dynamic is that... the people being abused can be very protective of their abuser. Make excuses. Focus on the good things and minimize the bad. They want to have that relationship, they do genuinely care about the person mistreating them. That doesn't make them incompetent, nor is it meant to infantilize them. It's just a thing that happens to people because of how our brains work and how much most people are wired to need other people and have loyal social bonds. It's a trait to be aware of. It means that just because Fourchenault's family is permissive of his vices, doesn't mean they aren't vices.

AND, to add even more nuance to that, abuse isn't a 24/7 thing. It can be inconsistent. It can vary with the state of mind people are in, other experiences they had that day, and so on. Just because there are a few good days or good choices does not negate all the other bad ones.

A few things that have been stated in canon, which are worth considering to me

He does not read the letters the twins send home, only Ameliance does. While this could mean a lot of things, it can't be argued that he has little to no idea of what is actually going on in his children's lives despite having the opportunity to find out (Ameliance specifically says how she's seen them grow up through their letters!) But in his mind they're still inexperienced children, and he chooses to keep it that way.

Ameliance has been financing the twins and Scions behind Levidad's back. There is no reason to keep this activity a secret from him in a healthy relationship with good boundaries. That could speak poorly of Ameliance instead of Fourchenault, but it's hard to argue for a case where he would have been supportive of her spending. Given his opinions on staying out of other city-state's affairs, and given her behavior compared to his in-game, I'd argue this was more her trying to avoid his ire. Especially because:

I personally find it impossible to justify taking this out on the servants. Are the servants expected to treat his wife as subservient to him rather than an equal, and bar her guests entry? Is he unable to discuss or plan with his wife and trust her (implying a lot of disfunction in the home?) Is taking it out on the servants a roundabout way to punish her? And/or is he going to punish an "acceptable target", the servants, rather than express his anger at his wife or at you, who actually did the thing he's upset about? The servants? Really? People who can't rightly argue back or defend themselves because he is their employer and they are servants? This kind of abuse of power is not the behavior of a benevolent, well-adjusted man. Honestly, for me this line of dialogue alone is a massive warning sign that Fourchenault's need for control can manifest in extremely harmful ways. I'll avoid speculating on just how much that could affect with his family but in this line of dialogue alone there is a lot to unpack.

Alphinaud liked to argue with his dad. Their rows would cause scenes in the house. Alphy is a little shit before Heavensward but assuming he doesn't have some kind of Oppositional Defiant Disorder or Narcissism (he doesn't), I suspect that behavior most likely comes from emotional neglect or abuse. Either seeking attention even if it's negative, or modelling after his dad in argumentative/self-assured approach for approval, or attempting to claim some kind of independence because his home life has been so controlling.

Levidad claims he will do anything to protect his kids, and that he would have forced them onto the Ark even against their will, even if they hated him for it. While that could be read in a touching way, for me it was just another sign that he would do anything to have control. Because to protect his children, he needs to be able to control them. He can love them and use that love to justify infantilizing his children and trying to take their agency away.

While Levidad does let the kids leave Sharlayan (though as they are considered adults, I'm not convinced he actually could have stopped them), it could have been under the assumption they'd come running back soon enough. Since he doesn't read their letters, he may be entirely oblivious to the actual amount of danger they found themselves in. He let them spend time with their grandad, which is good, too. I don't think Levidad demanded total 100% uniformity of belief from his kids, it wouldn't fit with their culture. But at the end of the day I think he still wanted to be assured he was in control.

As far as disowning them. Yeah, I think it was a control tactic, too. I think the only thing he new how to do was Escalate in his disagreement with them, because that's what he did when they were children and they fought. I think the significant moment when Levidad slams them with that excommunication is the fact that Alphinaud does not argue with him. He lets his dad go. And even tells Alisaie not to try, either. Alphinaud has grown. He doesn't need to prove himself to his father anymore, not really. And that means Levidad can't control Alphy anymore, either.

I think if their dad had disowned them as a way to get them a message and pique their curiosity, he would have explained so when the vow of silence was lifted, and apologized for that, explicitly. I don't think he would have been so opposed in the Forum to having the Scions help with the Ark and get involved, because at that point, why continue fostering ill will with the children you love, or potentially risking turning the forum against them?

I could see him being so callous to misdirect the Eorzean Alliance because he does not trust them or want their interference as the Ark will only be able to carry so many people, he doesn't need an army beating down Sharlayan's door, and is baffled/frustrated by his children's opposition in front of everyone, because again, he doesn't know how much they've changed and matured. But disowning them was still about control, in my mind.

Lost in Translation?

It's entirely conceivable to me that Japanese Levidad could be very different from English Levidad. The cultural expectations around behavior, good or bad, are different. And we know, from stuff like how differently Haurchefant's lines were in English vs Japanese at first, that sometimes stuff does change in translation to make it carry better for different audiences. Or because the translator interprets something a specific way. English and Japanese are really different languages and how ideas are communicated or assumptions are made are different, too. Let's also not forget Nael van Darnus's whoopsie gender swap. So if there's parts of Levidad's behavior that seem inconsistent, it could, quite literally, be lost in translation.

I think this makes who he is and why he does things very open for interpretation, so I will reiterate that everyone is free to read him however you like. Your story is yours, and mine in mine, and that's a good thing!

Not a Villain.

Levidad loves his kids. He acknowledges that they've grown in the finale. He relinquishes some of his control. If he hadn't, his kids would have been able to move on without his support. I think he has the capacity to learn to treat them better and that ultimately his love for his kids and desire to have a relationship with them will win out over his need to have control, and I am very curious to see where the story takes them all.

[sasukimimochi]

His eyes scanned the horizon, making sure he was on track to get home, but then his legs faltered as he saw something in the distance, between the many aspen and evergreens. A small splash of color amongst white and faded jade. He slipped, exclaiming as he tumbled down the slope, as shallow as it had been. The man groaned, and lifted himself slowly while dusting off the snow now stuck to him from the rolling.

            “Are you…Alright?”

            The man’s head shot up and met with another pair of eyes- like fields of ice, but soft. He’d never seen such eyes. “I…y…yeah, wait,” He shook his head and stood up, now noticing the ethereal man kneeling beside a frozen spring, thin, ivory digits stained pink from the cold and held calmly in his lap. This man…who was he? Why was he out here?

            “Uh…What are you doing out here? It’s freezing.” The ethereal figure quietly looked back to the stream, eyes somehow…speaking a thousand words, but none that the other could recognize.

            “Waiting…”

OK. I decided to bite the bullet and post this.

These are character designs for an original cultivation story (would be BL btw, i realize i forgot to write the genders on the sheets) and i was kind of nervous to post them for some reason so i've had them for a while now (as you can see at the end of 2022)

But i love the characters obv, and since i didn't draw today again due to trying to get some posts prepped for the future, i thought...what better time to share these than now?

um well, i hope you like the concepts? i don't really have a summary for the book yet. since its an original though i wanted to do a lot more research into cultivation before i began actually writing again (i have some bits and bobs but they need to be redone probably) uh, basically the premise is though that Wyn (chestnut hair) is disguised as a woman for an arranged marriage but then the husband he marries, when he lifts the veil, is very happy abt it and they end up having a happy life- for however long that lasts. something happens and he dies (he's already dead at the start of 1 this aint a spoil lol) and so we begin 50 years later where every day he waits at the spot his husband was supposed to meet him no matter the weather, and he meets a rogue cultivator who likes to go by Aspen. Ensue hijinks lol

Drawings that didn't make the cut [or you know, first scribbles/thoughts] are under the read more line.

honestly tho idk the rules of cultivation stories which is holding me back, i'm so interested in cultivation now but i have read 2 danmei and thats it rn

so i'm clearly lacking the needed experience sadlfhasdg-- anyway...

[mini-uzzy]

double whammy tagged by @krankittoeleven!! eyy

Okay, so. Rules. Shuffle your On Repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people.

I'll include genres in case ya'll jam :3

"Sea Of Problems" Glitchery (phonk)

"Deliverance" ZAND (ugly-pop : apparently they coined this term)

"You Make Me Sick" Ashnikko (alt-pop)

"Disaster" KSLV Noh (phonk)

"Neon Blade" Moon Deity (phonk)

"Feral" Left To Suffer (deathcore)

"Loathe" Left To Suffer (deathcore)

"Yellowjacket" Spiritbox ft. Sam Carter (prog metal)

"Foolish Of Me" Seven Lions (melodic dubstep)

"Carnage" Jazmin Bean (pastel goth)

curious, is the playlist not updating bc I'm pretty sure I've been looping three other songs in the past few weeks...

taaaaaagin @yeehawkins, @eljeebee, @brasideios, and the other seven are free to tag themselves and participate <3

[astrovagrant]

happy valentines day heres the semi-traditional vday wyvern art - 2023 is a The Kiss ripoff 🥰

[saintaegon]

upcoming   writing   bits

series

college!gamer   aegon   x   reader  final draft

one-shots

dungeon!master   aegon   x   reader planning

aegon   x   reader  (bedding ceremony)  first draft

modern!aegon x ldr!reader planning

[mossarchives]

Early Mourning

[frenchy-and-the-sea]

I've been trying for three days to try to start a piece about what happened in our last Curse of Strahd game and tbh, it's killing me that I'm struggling so hard to have a good angle to start from because I'm SOOOOO thrilled by the exact way that things shook out and I wanna!! talk about it!!! but in writing form so there's CONTEXT

[hirokiyuu]

did i ever post abt my baby (wyn) on here i dont remember

[delta-piscium]

Steve holds hands for wip Wednesday 💜

thank you so much <3 sorry this is so late, I got stuck on all my writing but it is actually Wednesday today so better timing right (right?)

Steve hums in agreement, "but hey, at least we can keep each other company.” Eddie can’t help himself. He never can but especially not around Steve, he’s like a goddamn siren, or catnip. So he smirks, slants a look at him and in a voice that comes out deeper and raspier than he meant asks, “oh yeah? And what kind of company would that be?” But then, because this is Steve he backtracks, diffuses, “I could tell you about the new campaign I’m planning. I’m thinking no monsters, no fighting. Just a good happy time for everyone.” Steve peers up at him, that frown back between his eyebrows but now there’s also a glint in his eyes. One Eddie has only seen flashes off before, not now though, now it stays. Steve looks at him with interest, with determination. “You keep doing that.”  He looks between Eddie’s eyes, searching and keeping him pinned on the spot.  “You keep saying all these things filled with intent and meaning.” Eddie swallows, can’t look away. “But then nothing happens, you just switch topics, pretend like nothing. Gives me whiplash man” “I- um,” he stammers, tries to find something to say, and finally lands on, “Sorry?” Steve sits up on his elbows, still not breaking eye contact, “I just wonder why you do it?” Because you’re Steve Harrington. Because not only are you hot but so pretty that I don’t actually understand it. Because you’re so fucking kind, so caring, so good, that I can’t help but flirt even though I shouldn’t. Eddie shrugs, “dunno.”

(very late) WIP weekend (or Wednesday)/make me write

[loveskilljoy]

skyrim's least competent dragon hunter

[draconic-absurdism]