#there are certain ones i'm more drawn to but i haven't really set anything in stone

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

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PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[typicalopposite]

W.I.P Wednesday

Hello Hello Hello again! And thank you to @hgejfmw-hgejhsf, @onthewaytosomewhere, @adreamareads, and @meraki-yao for the tags <3

I have been chipping away at this Psych fic for a while now and I always struggle swapping between fandoms when writing so I haven't wrote much for RWRB but I still have some written for all the WIPs I have for the fandom!

So to start I'm going to share the very beginning of the psych fic!

The color blue has never meant much to Shawn and yet lately it’s all he seems to be able to think about. Blue skies, blue water, blue(berry) cars — like the one in which he’s sitting while fantasizing about a pair of blue, blue, blue eyes.  Eyes that roll angrily the moment he walks into a room. Eyes that narrow into sharp slits when he – brilliantly, impressively, sexily if he should say so himself – swoops in and solves the cases the department can’t catch a break with. Eyes that always seem to follow him around the room like a magnet unintentionally drawn to its complete polar opposite…  Shawn looks through the windshield just in time to see that Lassie — stopped on the steps of the SBPD police station — is staring at him yet again; Shawn wonders if this recent infatuation he’s been feeling is really mutual.

rwrb below the cut! TW slight mentions of homophobia and racism

going to share another snippet from the first rule of fight club, but going to give a little more backstory to it this time. While Henry and Alex are out for dinner they encounter some very hateful men who frequent the pub they are eating at, and don't like that the owner allows 'anyone' inside. One in particular lashes out on them and Henry tries to stand up for them but only pisses the guy off who follows them out as they leave and ultimately ends up -- after the man starts spewing some slurs towards Alex that strikes a nerve and causes Henry to confront him -- punching Henry (Henry doesn't want repercussions taken on man, but after a few days is furious he wasn't able to fight back as he's never had to thus doesn't really know how to).

So he decides he wants to learn how to fight so if the situation arises again, he can handle it. BAMF protective Henry am I right? And who better for him to turn to than a certain BAMF secret service agent.

This fic is really just a deeper look at a part from Zahra Deserves A Raise where she has to go get them out of jail. So ye! It has been something on my mind for a whileee lol idk why! Anyway here's the snippet!

Henry licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “I need to ask you a major favor,” he says, wringing his hands together nervously and constantly checking around him as if this is some top secret request and people might be listening. Amy waits for him to continue, looking more uneasy by the second. “I– um– I want you to teach me how to fight.”  Amy blinks. “I’m sorry, you– you what?!”  “Teach me… how to fight.”  “Teach you how to… fight?” “Yes.”  Another few blinks, then Amy sets her jaw the way she does when she’s on the clock and in protection mode. “Is this about that dipshit that punched you? Is he bothering you again? I can -- and will -- find his address.” “No!” Henry sighs, looking down at his hands, rubbing a finger over the space his signet ring used to sit. His knuckles are just about healed, as is his brow, but the bruise is still very much there. A sickly green and yellow color now; he imagines what a sight he must be. “Well,” he says after a pause. “I suppose it is about him. He just hasn’t done anything.” “Anything else,” Amy corrects, he hears her tut and looks up to see her scowling. “God if I would have been there that asshole would have been leaving there in a body cast... or a body bag.” Henry can’t help but smile; since the incident it seems everyone has been talking about what they would do if they could get their hands on that man. Amy stares at him again, then that serious stone like — still slightly confused — face slowly breaks into a smile. “Does Alex know you’re here?” “No…” Henry admits, hanging his head. “He doesn’t know I want– he would try to talk me out of it.”

there you have it! hoping I have the Psych fic done by sunday and can get back to all my RWRB fics (without starting new ones first!)

pressure tagging @scripted-downfall and leaving it open for anyone else who wants to join in! :)

[0perfectimperfections0]

I think it would be interesting if you'd made an au where the dolls see that they have also wronged Lou and should of given him a 2nd chance. So they now try to earn his trust. From styling his hair to how it originally was and giving him more comfortable clothing to trying to talk to him more. But it's very hard to do so because the former leader is now depressed, anxious, and jumpy. He closes himself off and vows to never trust any doll ever again.

And maybe another au where Lou is very smart and manipulative and everything goes his way.

Btw I love your fics, I've searched everywhere to find good Lou angst and you make my day. Thank you for keeping the fandom alive.

Awww, you're so sweet! I'm glad you enjoy the stories! I've also heard you've found my friend @natalie-the-writer 's account. Her stories are absolutely AMAZING! She has such amazing attention to detail and can make any scene feel so real in your imagination. If you haven't already, I HIGHLY recommend reading through all of her stories on her profile. They're awesome!

And since I've gotten an ask similar to the latter portion of your ask, this one will revolve around the former prompt. Brace yourself, this will be longer (for the first time in forever XD).

<><><><><><>

The dolls prided themselves in how fluidly everything seemed to be running at the Institute. It was like Ox had said: they didn't need Lou. From an outside perspective, everything seemed to be going about splendidly. More importantly, everyone was happy.

Moxy hummed a made-up tune to herself as she walked down the winding sidewalks of the villa. Dolls -- with happy smiles, she was pleased to note -- waved and offered their own greetings as they swept by each other. She found her best friend, Mandy, and hopped in front of the doll's path with an enlightened expression. "Hey, Mandy!"

"Hi," the female offered a small smile of her own. "Have you seen Nolan anywhere? I haven't been able to find him."

Nolan. Did she know a Nolan? There were so many dolls that it was difficult to remember all of their names. Mandy must have caught on to her perplexed face because she soon elaborated. "Has the sign around his neck? Brown hair? Green and purple eyes? Kinda tall?"

For such a specific description, Moxy would've thought herself to be quick with a revelation. Unfortunately, that description didn't fit any of the dolls she had grown to be close friends with in the past few months. "Mmm, sorry. I don't think I know a Nolan." She admitted guiltily. "But!" She swung a short leg out to proceed in the direction Mandy had been going in, "I can help you find him!" Then she would know who Nolan was and all would be splendid again.

Mandy accepted the offer silently and walked in what seemed to be an aimless direction. However, she had a specific destination in mind. Nolan had mentioned a few times in conversation about a certain doll that she'd rather not bring up in front of...well, anyone else. So, unbeknownst to Moxy, Mandy had them set toward the old wooden shed near the back of the Institute. Now that she dwelled on it, they hadn't seen Lou in quite some time.

Her theory proved fruitful when she recognized the brunette outside of the abandoned shed. Abandoned to others, not to Lou. Moxy's pace slowed down to a stop even as Mandy proceeded on. "The shed? Why would Nolan be here?" Her question wasn't answered. Mandy didn't really have a sound answer to it either.

Nolan had made his vigil just outside the closed door. He sat on the ground, knees drawn to his chest to rest his head on, and back pressed against the door. There was a plate of food set beside him. Mandy's footsteps caught his attention before he could say anything. Quickly, he put a finger to his mouth to warn her to be quiet. His eyes went to Moxy as she finally walked closer. "What are you guys doing here?" He asked, keeping his voice just above a whisper.

"Looking for you," Mandy answered. "What are you doing here?"

Nolan cast a short glance at the plate of food beside him. It had grown cold, now. "No reason. Maybe I like the peace and quiet." Mandy shook her head and sat down on the other side of the plate. She tapped a piece of bacon experimentally.

"I'm guessing this wasn't for you." Nolan didn't respond. "How many days has it been?"

"Five. Six, if you count today." Nolan sighed.

"What are we counting?" Moxy tilted her head at them.

The Pretty Dolls exchanged glances. Mandy spoke. "How many days it's been since Lou came out of the shed."

"He hasn't been cleaning?" Moxy looked taken aback.

"You haven't noticed he hasn't been around?" Nolan's eyes went a little hard at that. It was the closest to a glare Mandy had seen him pull off. Moxy stuttered out an excuse of some sort, but he brushed it off. "You two can go. He doesn't like having so many people around. It's just been me for the past week."

"How did you know he was locked up in the shed?" Moxy asked. Had she missed a sign or something? Were the other dolls talking about him? She hadn't heard a single mention of the blond since his downfall.

Nolan visibly refrained from rolling his eyes. Instead, he flicked at an imaginary piece of lint on his knee. "Well, he doesn't exactly have the looks to blend into the background. He stands out pretty well on his own." There was an audible bite to his tone that Mandy silently acknowledged and Moxy took no note of. "I came here the first day I noticed he was missing. The door's been locked and he put a tarp over the window to keep from anyone looking inside."

"Maybe he's plotting something," Moxy brought a hand to her chin in thought.

The brunette tried not to bristle at that comment. He closed his eyes, eyebrow raised indignantly. "Like I said, you two can leave. I've managed to get him to unlock the door and I don't need anyone undoing all that progress."

"If the door is unlocked, why don't you just go in?" Mandy blinked up at the potential entryway.

"Because I want him to be the one to open the door. This is the only place he can go without being pushed around by the other dolls -- in case you haven't noticed that either." Nolan sent a look over to Moxy. She shrunk a bit under the tone. "This is his safe place now, and I don't want to intrude on it. If I'm going to make any progress, I need him to be the one to let me in."

Moxy drummed her fingers against her side, eyeing the door that could easily be walked through. "You make it sound like he's scared or something. I'm sure he's just sitting in there pouting and refusing to carry out his punishment." Nolan's jaw clenched, but he kept his mouth shut lest any harsh words are said by him. "Let's just go in there and tell him to get back to work." She stepped up and turned the knob before Nolan or Mandy could stop her.

A concentrated form of light entered the dark room. It revealed the particles of dust floating aimlessly in the air. She waved off a few visible ones and noticed the small figure hunched in the corner of the room near the door. She had been about to say something but stopped short when she realized something was off.

Lou didn't move at all from his position despite her bombarding him. He had been seated similarly to Nolan: legs were drawn up to his chest tightly, feet angled inward, arms wrapped around them, and head resting on his knees. She couldn't see his face with the mess of tangled, blond hair draping over his arm. He seemed to have his head laying to the side, facing away from her.

Before Moxy could take a step toward him, Nolan startled her by appearing in front of her path. "You need to get out. He doesn't want to be around anyone. Especially you."

Moxy was taken aback. "Wh--What did I do?"

"Is that a serious question?" Nolan finally let himself bristle as he glared down at her.

Mandy pulled on the pink doll's arm. "Moxy, let's leave. Nolan can handle it from here."

"Handle what?" A new voice sounded behind them. Ox tilted his head at the group from outside the shed. "What are ya'll doin' here? And where's Lou been? I ain't seen 'im in almost a week."

"Huh," Nolan couldn't help but comment wryly as he looked down at Moxy again, "even Ox noticed." Moxy merely shrunk in more guilt. Perhaps she had been a little too blinded by all the smiles and positivity of the other dolls that she neglected to check in on Lou.

Ox ignored the two and stepped inside, seeing the ex-leader curled up in the corner. "Lou? What's wrong?" Nolan couldn't get a word out to tell him to step back before the bunny was in front of the doll. Ox put a paw on Lou's head to try and brush away the hair, but Lou flinched away. "Lou, talk to me."

"He doesn't want to talk," Nolan clarified sharply. "And you guys are making it worse by invading his space."

"I agree," Mandy tugged harder on Moxy's arm. "So, let's give Lou some space, Moxy." The pink doll finally relented and walked out with the Pretty Doll.

Ox didn't move from his spot. He watched Lou's hands clutch at his pants tighter. Was...he really upsetting Lou just by being here? The thought sent a sharp pain through his chest. Nolan's gaze prompted him to finally stand and part ways. He sent one last look to the doll in the corner before walking out of the shed. Nolan made a step toward the doorway until he heard rhythmic tapping from where Lou was. He paused and listened.

Tap-Tap-Tap...Tap...Tap-Tap...Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap

Nolan abandoned the doorway and kneeled in front of Lou. His hand was leaning against the side of the building, tapping. Lou still didn't look up. Nolan pulled out his phone and hit the record. "One more time, Lou, please?"

Tap-Tap-Tap...Tap...Tap-Tap...Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap

The message was translated on the phone. Nolan had first heard the organized tapping a few days ago when Lou was aware of his vigil. It initially sounded like a song that Lou was tapping to the beat of, but the repetition of the taps didn't follow along to a song. It was morse code. Nolan didn't know how or when Lou had learned the cryptic language, but the translator on his phone helped them communicate. Nolan read the result:

Stay.

Just to be sure. "You want me to stay?"

A second of silence.

Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap...Tap...Tap-Tap-Tap

Nolan knew that one due to their limited "conversations" between the door. It was 'yes'.

"Okay," Nolan kept his voice soft. "Give me a minute to get them to leave." He stood and leaned out of the doorway. The others were waiting for him. "You guys go on. He wants me to stay."

"He talked to you?" Ox's ears perked up in hope.

"Sorta kinda," Nolan teetered his head with a short glance to Lou in the corner. "I'll text when I'm headed back into town. It might be a while, though, so don't wait up on me."

They hesitated to move, especially Ox. It took some coaxing from Mandy to get him to relent and walk away. Nolan didn't move from the doorway until they had walked far enough from the shed. Satisfied, he closed the door and immersed the shed back into an opaque darkness. He silently sat next to Lou in the same position he'd been in outside. No words were spoken.

[rainsandrains]

in all honesty, i'm having a hard time with my atheopaganism. it's nearly hallows, and my focus is still set up for spring - i was here (in cambridge) until july, then i went home (to my parents' house) until the start of october, and although i've been back for about two weeks i still haven't touched my focus except to put my two spiritual notebooks back on it. i have hardly engaged with any of the things i consider spiritual practices.

the last time i was in cambridge, i was extremely unhappy. i was still in limbo regarding issues with my phd, i was having issues with my relationship to certain close friends, and i was, to put it bluntly, bordering on suicidal. i then went through hell for two weeks in july, and spent all of august recovering from that. i finally got good news about my phd and in september i started studying again, and i managed to make a tiny bit of progress with another personal goal i won't talk about here in case it's triggering to people. i engaged in my first proper full moon ritual, and managed to keep the promise i made to myself that night - a certain set of tasks for an entire lunar cycle. things were looking up. and then i came back to cambridge, to the place where so much went wrong and where i had felt so so bad, and it all fell apart again. i relapsed into a very bad coping mechanism and haven't yet had the energy to feel bad about it. i'm struggling to enjoy my main hobby because the choir is full of new people and because i'm tired and drained.

so no wonder the whole "connecting to the natural world" thing has fallen away. i'm just trying to get through the days, get my work done, and not snap at the poor freshers who haven't done anything wrong. i don't feel guilty about abandoning my practice. but i do feel like i'm lacking something. i do feel sad, and regretful, that i'm not feeling connected to the world.

and, for some reason, when i feel this way (and when i feel low and lonely in general), i've recently (as in over the last year or so) found myself drawn to polytheism. i know that gods aren't real. but i wish they were. i find myself... playing pretend, for lack of a better word. talking to apollo and lighting a candle i imagine he'd like, and then catching myself and feeling stupid. when i have to sing christian music with my choir, i think "khaire apollon, if you want to take any of this music as an offering, even though it's about the wrong god on paper, feel free. your presence would be appreciated" - because i feel so isolated even in that space, and because i need something overtly pagan to counteract the icky feeling christianity gives me. i know plenty of naturalistic pagans engage with deity as myth, as story, as metaphor... but i want it to be more than metaphor. but it isn't, and it never will be. i need to find a new way to engage with these ideas, something that fills the emotional void but that aligns with my naturalist worldview. i never think about apollo this way when i'm at my parents' house, probably because i'm less lonely than here where i live alone. maybe i need to spend more time with my friends, but it's cambridge, they're so busy all the time...

i don't know. i may well delete this post - i've never rambled so personally on this blog before, and it's not really in line with my original intention that this would be for reference and inspiration. but i'm stuck, and frustrated, and struggling, and i don't have anyone irl i can talk to about it because i don't know any other naturalistic pagans irl. only a couple of people even know i'm pagan, and while both are open-minded and kind about it neither of them are remotely similar (one is my college chaplain, and the other is a friend who is jewish - both lovely, neither likely to be on the same page as me about naturalism).

[seahdalune]

Seana's 2023 art highlights

(surprisingly, not a reupload this time!)

January: i drew nothing! we're off to a great start.

February: i drew something! i love Champ even if i haven't drawn anything tf2 related since April. i think it was this piece where i decided to give Champ RED coloring. [link]

also, this is the month i made my second Moldy plush.... i wasn't very happy with this one, though. [link]

March: uhhhh. more of my tf2 ocs but i think those aren't that interesting. just go to my tf2 oc blog @brokenbrainstormbulb if you wanna see them honestly, i have an image limit to keep ffs. that said, this was around the time i got into TC2, so i drew a lot of that kind of stuff... i'm never drawing stuff for it ever again, sorry. [link]

April: look at the cool thing i drew for a fellow tf2 robot fan! now, this is the point in time where i start drawing more because of a certain interest, so look forward to all the art that'll come up here.....

May: wow, this really was my first public piece of Papa Louie art, huh. i was so proud of it when i showed it off on tumblr the first time... i don't like it as much anymore. for one, the office wall color is wrong.... i still can't believe Papa Louie was what got me out of art block, but god, i'm glad it did. i don't think i've drawn this much before, and even though the community's tiny, i'm glad to give back as much as i can. anyways, i said something like "it's so funny that people think they're either super married or divorced as hell" on the same post. i still think that, and it's defos funny as hell, but i've grown a kind of appreciation towards the ship as well. like yeah, you go girls, we love that extra slow burn with so many road bumps on the way! [link]

June: how the hell did i pump this out. this was also like a few days before i had to leave for the airport too... i don't know myself sometimes. i swear i still love Boigashipping! i just... i'm just busy with other ships okkkk [link]

July: i didn't draw anything...? i was in Bali. and i was busy selling adopt designs to draw anything substantial, oopsie! actually, i DID draw the first part of WDB... it's uh, still the only part. i'm sorry!!!! i'm sorry!!!! i swear i have the whole thing outlined!!! can you just give me anons about the story instead so you won't have to wonder what comes next!! [link]

August: TOSI fixation. it had not gone past it's conceptual stage, i must note. i do wish i would do something about it though. [link]

September: the art trade i did with my friend! actually, i was a few weeks late with my part, so it was supposed to be finished by August. oops. i like the textures tbh. my Chuseok drawings.... i need to draw more characters in hanbok, hee hee. [link]

October: (breaths in) ...this is the month i finally gave into the JoGotcha wantings. LOOK. ever since someone put the idea into my brain i couldn't get enough of it, and like,, nobody draws the ship anymore so i had to take matters into my own hands. this is the first ship i'm this obsessed with. i usually leave ship stuff to other people but this time that wasn't enough and i... i had to do SOMETHING, y'know? [link]

Cringetober? who's that? haha;; i stopped feeling like doing the whole list after less than a week. impressive.

November: oh look, Plushy Power League. Quinn didn't win, but i do like the thing i drew as propaganda, so whateves. the first Papa Louie character i ever drew (minus Chuck and Taylor)... did i change how i draw her? uhh. maybe? i'm not too sure. [link]

also look! the keychain drawing... i need to talk about my Gods and Monsters au again at some point. actually, since i last uploaded the image of my keychain, i revised it tons... it's kinda different now, and i defos think it looks better. this is actually the time i finally fixed the stupid display setting thing that was really messing up my coloring! [link 1] [link 2]

December: ...oops! tablet broke. and i got my 3ds back so i just didn't draw that much even after exams were over. didn't stop me from drawing though, and in fact i think i made something pretty neat with my christmas art.... even if it did come one day late. [link]

wow. that's a whole year of stuff... and that's defos a lot! i think i'm really happy with what i drew this year.... i don't know what was in my water the last few years but my art highlights felt really.... miserable? for some reason. i mean, yeah, i didn't do a lot of what i had planned (GOE ANIMATIC IM SORRY) but i can see that i've done just as much with my hands anyways, so like, who cares? plus, i always have next year... that's coming in 3 hours, oh god- so, maybe i won't be too hard on myself for not fulfilling my goals... like, i kinda glossed over it, but i did sell my designs for money, and that's like, really impressive! so many people around me buy and sell their art stuff already, so i guess i didn't really register it as something to be proud of... but doing that shit (making, and marketing) is hard!! so like, it's a wow moment for me!

anyways, i'm tired, i only came back home a few hours ago, and i need to get up again for church in a few hours.... mrphgdjd. lets stop being sentimental, and i'll see you people next year. that's a long way off! hope you don't miss me.

[not-xpr-art]

Art deep dive #3 - How important are the "rules" of art?

Hi!

So it's been a longgg time since I did one of these, but I've recently noticed something in the way people talk about art online today, especially the idea of 'art rules', that I've found interesting so... let's talk about it!

(just fyi this is a series where I ramble about art-y things and pretend I know what I'm talking about lol)

How important are the "rules" of art? ~

If you're an artist you've probably heard some version of the phrase 'you need to learn the rules in art in order to break them'. Effectively this refers to learning the basics of art like anatomy, colour theory or perspective before you completely do away with them to create something stylised, deconstructive or even abstract! Even beyond this particular idea, I hear so many artists online (as well as in school) talk about the importance of learning the 'art rules'.

And to some extent, I agree with this sentiment! I think you need to have some understanding of how to draw things, and more specifically knowing why we draw things certain ways. An example of this is the 'don't use black in shadows' rule, which is referring to the fact that there are no true black shadows in nature, and using other colours as shadows can keep your work from looking too 'flat'. And despite me knowing this, I have definitely used black as shadows in my work, especially when I want to create some intense chiaroscuro or drama! But I know that when I want to create something realistic, using black in the shadows would probably be a bad idea lol!

But the thing is... What do I actually mean when I say 'art rules'?

Who decides what rules make up the way things should be drawn/painted/sculpted/etc and why should we follow them in the first place?

There's certainly a set of rules for how to draw things in particular styles (as in, if you want realism you probably need to follow some specific proportions lol), but those don't apply to all forms of art! Similarly when it comes to something like colour theory, there are colours that will help you create a harmonious work, but that isn't always relevant!

Abstract and conceptual art (amongst others) are forms that don't necessarily require a sense of balance or even artistic integrity. Much of the last century of art history was specifically about throwing away the old ideas of how art 'should' look and be made. The Dadaists and works like the 'Ready Mades' of people like Duchamp challenged the idea of 'art rules', and as chagrin as I am to agree with anything Duchamp has ever done, it WAS effective in completely reshaping the art world.

So we know that much of art doesn't have to rely on art rules. However, when I look at the online art community, and even my own experiences within art education, there seems to be a return to the idea of 'learn the rules first, break them later'. Those rules being the things I mentioned earlier (proportions, anatomy, perspective, colour theory, etc), things that make up the basic art education that's been taught in art schools for hundreds of years.

Except... I haven't really answered the who or why have I lol?

There's obviously no one individual guy who one day was like 'I'm gonna make up some art rules for people to follow until the end of time!', but rather the things we now consider the 'basics' of art can mostly be traced back to Antiquity (as in Ancient Greece). And I do consider it integral to say that the things that are globally seen as 'art rules' are things that have specific origins in Western countries of Art History.

It's no great secret that the History of Art has a racism problem, and the fact that the majority of artists considered part of the 'canon', and the ones who were venerated and taught as part of art education for many years are white men from western and central Europe...

Art from other continents don't always have the same ideas of 'art rules', and when these were first introduced to Europe, they were written off as 'naïve' and 'primitive' because they didn't conform to the European idea of 'art'. And in a way I think that this (obviously) racist ideology has fed into our current concept of 'art rules' pretty much entirely revolving around Western standards of art (which usually positions realism above all else, with the significance and symbolism of art become less important).

Let's next tackle the 'why' of art rules. I've already mentioned why you would follow rules in a practical sense, but beyond that is there any reason for following these 'art rules'? I think fundamentally it all comes down to what we consider the purpose of a particular work of art. If your goal with a piece is specifically about creating a realistic work, then it definitely makes sense that you would follow them. But art that is more instinctual or personal, or art that is abstract, or even art that is pattern/purely aesthetic based, all have very different intentions for their creation.

So why, in 2023, do so many artists (and art schools) still push this idea that art has a rigid set of rules that you have to learn, and only once you've learnt them can you then completely disregard them? Rules that we know stem from European art history and also only apply to a certain sort of art. I think in a way it all comes down to a way to quantify what 'good' and 'bad' art looks like. If there are really no rules, and you don't need to have basic understandings of anatomy or perspective in order to be an artist, then I think to some people it means that can no longer say that in order to be an artist you need to put in a certain amount of 'effort'.

In conclusion... Is there even a conclusion to this lol?

Personally, I think that there's definitely value in learning the Western ideas of art rules that we consider the 'basics' (things like anatomy, perspective, etc) if you want to improve your realistic drawing skills, but don't think you need to learn everything about art rules in order to become some accomplished or 'real' artist lol

Art is first and foremost about creativity and expression, so really just have fun with it!

~

I hope you enjoyed this mini (informal) essay! I actually haven't written one of these deep dives for over 2 years lol!

Btw, let me know your thoughts on this and whether you agree with it lol!

If you liked this feel free to check out those other one, or my art advice tag (where I attempt to give advice to beginner artists lol...)

[goddesswitchmother]

More thoughts for the ikevamp fanfiction! Enjoy or not, I don't care. I'm doing this for me, and if others happen to enjoy as well, then that's a bonus. Yeah, I'm saying this more for myself than anything as I'm a recovering people pleaser. Sometimes, I just need to remind myself to have fun be myself and not worry about what others think of me .

Desperation pt 3

I hate him. I fucking hate him. But perhaps I shouldn't have slapped his stupid face. My hand 😭. "Theodorus Van Gogh, I fucking hate you. I've known you all of four days and I already hate you. I've never, and I mean NEVER, hated someone before. You haven't once even tried to get to know me. You've done nothing but judge me, insult me, bully me, and have make all sorts of assumptions about my character and yet you don't know the first thing about me. I don't know how you call yourself an Art Dealer because you have proven countless times already you don't have what it takes. You're a piece of shit and I hope you prove me wrong because I really don't like hatred and I don't think it's merely because it's a foreign feeling." I rant angrily as he just gawks at me with that stupid look on his face.

"Also, you'd have to be simultaneously deaf, blind, and stupid to confuse you for Vincent. You are absolutely nothing alike whatsoever, and if I didn't already know better, I would never guess you were related. Vincent, I'm sorry you had to see me like this. I really valued your friendship, and I have no intention of dating you. However, I understand if you no longer want to be friends." I added this time in tears. Fuck I'm so embarrassed. So I did what I do best, and I ran. A part of me was aware that I had an audience. I vaguely noticed just about everyone had ended up in the gardens, probably drawn in by my outburst. The only ones not there were Isaac, Napoleon, Mozart, Leonardo, and Sebastian. I made it to my room uninterrupted and threw myself into bed to bawl my eyes out. I feel so pathetic.

Once I had managed to stop crying, I mindlessly sought out one of the few comforts I managed to bring with me. I set up my watercolor book on the desk with my watercolor paints, several brushes, and the untouched glass of water from the nightstand. As an afterthought, I grabbed my mixed media book, my colored pencils, and markers just in case.

I don't know how long I spent tearing pages out and throwing them on the floor. All of them bearing finished paintings or drawings that I just didn't like. Any works left on the desk were unfinished concepts that I couldn't put together. However, I was interrupted by a knock on the door. And then the door was opened. I didn't bother checking to see who it was. "You haven't even touched your dinner. I hope you aren't planning on skipping breakfast, too. We can't have that." I was shocked back into reality then. "What?! But I only just ate breakfast a few hours ago." I really started looking around then. Sebastian quickly approached me and tilted my head up to look at him. "Uh...." I was unsure what I wanted to say. Whatever it was could wait, though. The way Sebastian was intensely studying me with concern overwhelmingly obvious in his gaze. I never had anyone worry so much about me before that it rendered me speechless. I suddenly felt the urge to cry that I violently squashed it down, hoping he didn't notice. He cleared his throat and glanced around at the mess I created. "You just might be as bad as Leonardo at losing track of time. Just yesterday, I brought you lunch, but you were crying. I don't know if you remember, but you refused lunch. You promised you'd eat dinner if I brought it to you. However." He explained, gesturing to the platter of dinner sitting neglected on the tray near the bed. I blushed as I vaguely remembered something like that. "I'm sorry. Let me clean up this mess, and I'll eat breakfast out there so you can be certain I eat." I offer hastily getting up. "Oh, I'll pick these up, if you don't mind. Just go wash up and perhaps change your attire, and I'll have your place at the dining table set." He offered, already carefully stacking the papers from the floor neatly into his arms. Damn he works quickly and efficiently. I make a noise of agreement and grab a random outfit before rushing to my bathroom.

(images sourced from pinterest)

I had quickly washed my face and brushed my hair and teeth and applied deodorant. You know the usual. But the whole time I was disturbed by how pale I was as well as the shadows around my red rimmed eyes. When I finished dressing I went to grab my makeup to see Sebastian had the same idea. "Hope you don't mind, I just thought that you were looking a little pale and sleep deprived." I just smiled gratefully. "You're a life saver." I say as I rush off to do my makeup.

(Images sourced from pinterest)

(My eyes are actually amber, though, so imagine that.)

I managed to improve my mood and started feeling my self-confidence boost by the time I made it to the dining room. Sure enough, Sebastian was just setting down my plate stacked high with the French toast and sausage I requested. A glass of hopefully cranberry apple juice joining them. "Ooh, looks delicious, thank you, Sebby." I say happily. I see his back straighten up. "Sebby, huh? Do I get a nickname, luv? Also, you look absolutely ravishing. Are you -" "Yeah, yeah, Arty-boy, I'm not wearing sweats today, so I'm definitely trying to seduce you." I interrupt, voice heavily dripping with sarcasm. "So hard to believe a woman can dress up for her own happiness." I mutter, stabbing a sausage onto my fork. Out of my peripheral, I see theo opening his mouth like he's about to say something. "Now shut up. I'm hungry." I add not to anyone in specific.

[anomalouscorvid]

1, 9, 10, 16, 18, 21, 22 for fallen london🦇🦇🦇

as usual this goes under the cut because i like to type a lot. but a lot of this is '¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i don't know anything about the actual fandom so i couldn't say for certain what my thoughts would be'

1 (the character everyone gets wrong) - well, as someone who doesn't interact with the fandom except for what i see on tumblr and doesn't read fl fanfiction or anything, i'd have no idea lmao, some of the stuff i've heard makes me think the answer to this might be mr veils (but not really) or actually potentially mr apples but i'm just not certain

9 (worst part of canon) - this isn't the worst part for me, but here's a fun opportunity to admit something: it's always annoyed me that curators have arms as well as wings. not just because the anatomy is annoying to get right when drawing (two sets of limbs! in the same space! what are your shoulders meant to be doing) but also because i just think any curator interpretation could be improved with hands on their wings. it just looks more balanced when they only have wings and not separate humanoid arms. and yet it seems like in canon the arms and wings are separate. tragic

anyway space bat limbs aside. i'm sure there's actual probably-the-worst things about canon that should actually be changed but i think any concerns have already been talked about with better wording by others? so i don't know what else i could say here

10 (worst part of fanon) - here's another opportunity for me to admit something that isn't precisely answering this question but i wanted to say it anyway: i don't get why people seem to hate the manager's design in motr. like that's less fanon and more fan reactions to canon but regardless. he seems... fairly alright? accurate enough to how he's described? visually makes me think "yeah that's him"? but apparently people hate the design, i haven't seen a single person talk about it in a positive way. i don't get it maybe there's just like. a fan design that the fandom decided was the only accurate one idk that seems to happen a lot with stuff like this where there's suddenly a canon design after so much time being relevant with no canon design

anyway again i must mention that i don't know anything about the fl fandom that doesn't appear on my tumblr dash. maybe there's a really popular bit of fanon elsewhere that everyone agrees on but i've never seen. maybe everyone agrees that [x character] is totally a snuffer or [y character] is actually a star in disguise or whatever and i had no idea.

i mean apparently there's december discourse and people have actual opinions on it but i didn't even know there was december discourse until recently. i mean yeah there's liberation of night discourse i get that but discourse about December specifically? december of the calendar council the twelfth month? we know like 3 facts about them. what would you even discourse over. about whether or not calling them a borzoi is actually even remotely accurate? (and for the record my view on that is that it totally isn't but i call them a borzoi anyway)

so anyway yeah i don't know enough about popular fanon to make any judgements here

16 (you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)) - why is candles so often drawn as specifically albino? i'm not sure if it's canon or not but i haven't heard of anything mentioning him (?) as albino or leucistic in canon. like yeah the colours fit with the themes i guess but i don't think i've ever seen a fan depiction of candles that didn't include pure white/pigmentless fur. obviously disclaimer that it's not necessarily a bad thing it's just like. wow that appears a lot

18 (it's absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…) - the grand devils. so aesthetic! so dead! so.... bugs! not even necessarily the canon ones, i think it'd be cool to see more grand devil ocs, or just devil ocs that don't follow the usual 'human with weird eyes' physical form (i know i don't really have any of those but. regardless i think it'd be very cool to see more of from others.)

21 (part of canon you think is overhyped) - would the masters of the bazaar be too obvious an answer for this one 💔 i just. think there's plenty of other interesting non-human species in the fl universe. yeah not much else to say for this one. i could also say seeking the name or mr eaten as a character in general for this one. but overall there isn't much overhyped in such a small fandom i think?

22 (your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores) - maybe the grand devils also fit as an answer to this question. i haven't really seen anyone talking much about them anywhere, which is fair given their crimes of being monarchs, but it's kind of surprising. i simply think that sometimes people should consider the dead or sort-of-dead bees.

also, maybe this is obvious from a few of my recent fl posts, but i think the god-eaters could be interesting (although there... isn't much to them in canon compared to the other important figures from past cities), and yet i've never really seen anyone acknowledging them (except for maybe, in some cases, mentioning them when talking about mr eaten)

[rococospade]

Hello! I have a question regarding the design of your Tarnished character, Letho, and his friend Ambrosia from your fic.

Have you used pre existing armor sets/armor pieces that you find in game for their design, or did you give them different clothes that you yourself made? Just curious, cause it seems like there's a lot of people making new armors for their Tarnished ocs to fit a certain character or aesthetic, just as there's a lot of people using pre existing sets in their drawings of them.

Have a good day!

Hi! Uh, honestly for me it's a little of both.

I'll break the answer into two parts, the fic answer and the art answer.

So, fic wise, Letho is usually in the Confessor Set by default, and either has the base Confessor weapons (Lemosyne) or the Bloodhound Fang and more throwables than god (Mare's Nest.)

Ambrosia's costume I've been vague about because I haven't actually sat down and concretely decided what they're wearing, though in chapter 10 it's probably something like the page set and a hood armour for plot-reasons.

On the art side of things:

So, I've drawn Letho in the Confessor outfit of course, but the costume he's wearing in my pinned post is based on a mix of one of the mage sets (Alberich's) and the Confessor set, plus Rennala's gauntlets because I really like them (and a wrap that he got as a gift, not based on a game item). I've drawn him in the deathbed companion dress a few times, and I've commissioned art of him in a combination of Maliketh's armour + the Depraved Perfumer robes, too. There's also an armour I did based on a design class I'm taking, but I haven't uploaded that yet.

Ambrosia's costume in my head is like a patchwork forest-coloured hedgewitch looking set, I really need to make them an Elden file just so I can look for costume ideas though! I'd love to have them with a game armour look. (Maybe the page set and one of the hood items? Hmm.)

When I do design original armour I try to use game sets as a jump off point, but I'm not good at folding in a convincing amount of detail yet.

Combo of Confessor, Alberich, and Rennala's sets + a shawl

Based on the same as above but with different colours. Hairstyle changed because the idea of him wearing a crystal dart as a hairpin appealed to me -- originally he had the default braided hair, which, beloved <3

aaaand the armour set that's still in development, and not based on anything in the game:

This will show up in fic and art at some point. I didn't plan for it to be gold, but it kind of works conceptually and colours-wise, so why not.

aaand I went digging for the art I had of Ambrosia:

These sketches are from a few months ago. Their costume's really too similar to Letho's, here. I'll need to do something else. But it's hard to picture them in long skirts, so even if I do that, I'll probably draw the skirt as girded.

And this is a pen sketch I did in like 2 minutes to try and figure out what they're wearing in chapter 10. "Oooh I'm just a helpless old person, stop looking at me, I definitely won't hit you with this stick" vibes

Thanks for the ask!

[trashcanwithsprinkles]

<3 thank you so much for the wonderfully detailed answer, it cleared up a lot of doubts and i appreciate it so so much, even if i've come charging back in here so fast regardless-

i only really have two more questions for now (on the same topic) that i don't even know if i fully need to know the answers to but i wanted to ask anyway, if that's alright: 1. ... what does morax's non-archon-outfit (or simply, whatever ajax was borrowing) actually look like in this fic..? I did find a description of sorts for one but- I wasn't sure if it was comparable to any others you've drawn so far, and just... i don't like to assume? and i don't trust myself to try to work with anything new without solid references (especially if there would be Details, which i assume there would be at least. some. and besides, clothing just... in general... is always something of a struggle for me,,)? and 2. ... ajax's sleeping clothes, uh, what would those be like? i just... i can't imagine this particular kind of stuff in the slightest, so sorry to have to ask about every little detail for these, i simply have no idea or too little of one to work with,, (i know you probably know but it really is just the kind of thing which wouldn't be a problem if i were just to leave it at ✨reading the fic ✨ but no, of course art needs more details,,)

also with the whole tailor's clothes situation: i can imagine the frustration, even if for me it's merely a matter of curiosity and ordinarily i wouldn't even notice, but trust me. i know i would be absolutely annoyed with it if i was in your place. although i didn't manage to find anything to check if they had picked those up yet- uh, with the amount of stuff going on basically nonstop.... it's true they just haven't been able to catch a break so that kind of does justify it- it's been what, a month or a bit more? and they've had all that stuff going on? and they basically toppled celestia? that's some darn good progress for only a month. now if only all of them could sleep for a month straight to make up for whatever restless nights they had from it.

thank you and dw, i'm always happy to answer questions! glad the previous infodump helped hahah;;

again a cut to spare everyone else's dash

morax' non-canon outfits

think along the lines of what was shown in the guizhong reveal cutscene. but since menogias isn't old enough here to tailor clothes (nor did i give him that particular interest), then it isn't that outfit in specific. either an aproximation of that one, or simply more traditional chinese wear from like... your everyday xianxia/wuxia show. basically any fanart that depicts zhongli using traditional chinese wear would be my go-to for reference. i have to be honest in that i didn't think of one outfit in specific while i was writing, more of a hand-wavey 'this is the vibe' situation. i kinda wanted everyone to be able to have their own idea for what outfits morax (and by extension ajax) would wear pre-archon war. the only real set depictions i had in mind were- well, the colors. i wager morax would wear black to brown to amber and golden colors, and everything within that sort of gradient.

so basically any traditional chinese ouftit you can find in zhongli fanart would fit the bill. then just slap that onto ajax for what he borrows. the only major differences would be that ajax would forego any outermost layer of the outfit to avoid heatstroke lmao

2. sleeping clothes

more or less the same train of thought as morax' non-canon outfits. ajax would 100% sleep in boxers only in his original world, but because he's in new lands and would rather die than have guizhong or morax accidentally walk in on him all but butt-naked, he would probably take guizhong up on the offer of borrowed sleeping clothes (which would most likely be a set that morax would use if he slept at all in his human form)

i'm no expert in traditional chinese wear (or anything chinese for that matter), so i can't say for certain what would constitute a historically-accurate set of sleeping clothes of the vague era pre-archon war liyue is set in. so- uh. if you have a better take then by all means, but what i had in mind was, same as with morax' outfits, your standard xianxia/wuxia depiction of sleeping clothes. if my memory isn't failing me, it would be something like an undershirt and underpants? like pajamas but with a traditional chinese cut, if that makes any sense.

anyway uh- yeah

you can probably tell with this why i didn't sit down and try to figure out a more specific outfit;;

i hope that was at least somewhat helpful! at the end of the day my biggest suggestion would be to just go look at zhongli fanart, but like i said, specifically the ones where he's wearing traditional clothes.

good luck!

[the-firebird69]

The massive fleet another tummy f has and still cordoned off and held up by the empire now the empire is making preparations for war with this maniac and they're calling on something to help and some will they say and I'm getting ready and they are going through the rewarded and such they're prepping their ground basis they are also soliciting the services of anyone who would assist and in taking apart this huge fleet and thus far we haven't answered yet and we are set up in the wings but pretty far off and we do here with the same they're saying they've been cold and awful and there's a few reasons but do you want to sleep to be drawn out and they don't want the fleet drawn out so they're going after whatever they can. And some of that is Stone chips of course and then look at it than what they need them when they do so that's going to start some sort of space conflict pretty soon and it's been building up to it all last night and tell me if it's trying to get his storm chips out it's quite a fight on the ground already and both sides are going at it. The fleets we are discussing our gigantic and should not be a trivialized at all. I hope you talk hooky talk and strange talk by us not really welcome. And I heard some but we don't we don't we don't want it everything down here is a very serious threat and those were talking that way get a tour of duty on the ground but it's remote viewing but still you need a refresher and it works and we want you to assign yourself to it it's only one week if you were doing it to strengthen and see what it is. We're also holding a couple of comments from our friends who said what is seems so hostile it's unreal and I can't do anything but sit here with no income and just be threatened by everybody and they're both going through it and it's kind of horrible Hera has a way out but but he's stuck there. And she'll be safer and he wants that badly for her. There's a couple of things and we are dealing with some people here who are delusional freaks I need to take a powder I don't want them around. For the reasons why again and see if I can pick up on it we had to excommunicate these. No this guy is losing power rapidly but he still has robots and cities and other areas and they need to be disabled and others do too he seems to have a lot of them I know we're going through them but if we could get rid of this idiot it will be so nice and do some hurts on him and we need to so I'm calling for it and we need to do I'm in about each day if you're in charge of that team. I'm sending out a new orders and they will be followed. This truck is not to be listened to I went to cut them down.

There are several developments since last night

-what are that is that the max are going nuts and they are lightning there crown bases they're taking territory back from warlock and their plowed it through them they're also talking to the pseudo empire about bases they took. It said them several letters to vacate certain basis because they're not helping they say they don't want to. And they were requested to leave and it was 100 out of these 700 basis that are laser bases and they were property of the empire they said no they have this now and they said you should bring them up to operational levels and they said they are we can warm them up and do some and what was notice and then they said on who and they said are there anybody who would need it so they got into it and they said they weren't going to help the empire because they don't help them the empire is moving to take those back and it's the beginning of the end for the pseudo empire. There will also lose large territories. Several of those land bases are in the deserts. One of them is in Saudi Arabia and it's about 400 miles to the east of a big city everybody goes to and I think it's cool and the reason is it gives them access to their information in there their location. And he cut them off and this the more like you're easier to get along with included the pseudo empire. They lost the negotiations yes and they are going to lose the basis these bases I mostly attempt by 10 miles and they're the high power lasers and we suspect that they will strike tonight or which is really today in the eastern hemisphere and possibly during the day in the West the mats are on the warpath and they're grabbing stuff from anyone that took it and asked him again and killing people as extreme into areas taking stuff back

This is a huge item. So we're going to print

Thor Freya

Olympus we print now Hera

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

3, 14, and 17 for the ask!

3. Is your practice more ritualistic or casual? What does it look like?

It's uh...ritualistically casual? Casually ritualistic? I haven't gotten to really practice with anyone (other than doing tarot readings for people - both for friendship, barter, and for pay - I'm really trying to get a career of this off the ground, as I've been reading casually and professionally for 30+ years now, and I do consider tarot/rune/oracle/psychometry readings and dream interpretations as much worship/practice as anything else) - oh and that one guided meditation circle I went to back several months ago - in hell. 20 years maybe? Or just nearly. So most of my practice is pretty casual with some ritual elements - I keep an altar, I burn candles and incense nightly when I go to bed (I'd burn incense more often but too much of it really bugs my sister, and her room is next to mine right now - hopefully when we can finally move east, we'll find a place where our rooms are more opposite ends of the house we rent), I put out offerings of liquor and sometimes food. More often the food offerings go to the outside altars, which right now, I only have a very small shrine to Elegua (ALL Tricksters are honored by me, so every culture's Tricksters are welcome to hang out). I include my gods in my day to day existence, even if that means I'm wandering around the grocery store - "What should we make for supper? What sweet treats should we get for dessert? Would you look at that asshole taking up the whole aisle?"

But I haven't 'drawn' a ritual circle in forever, I haven't called the elements, the directions, I haven't set up ritual space for each holiday, though to be fair, even when I did that with my ex and our friends, we were generally still pretty casual. Ritual robes started to be really unwieldy and definitely dangerous when lighting candles and almost knocking over the wine. Often our ritual regalia was less about clothing and more about painting our faces for the holidays with images and symbols important to each of us at that time. I'd like to get back into doing more (casually) formal rituals once we move and depending on which of my friends in the area we're moving to (or close enough to it) are able to meet up for them. I think I'd still have almost a Dude mentality of ritual, and from hanging out with my gods (predominantly the Nordic pantheon mixed with, again, all the Tricksters and quite a few of the Celtic deities), they always feel really cool with not getting super fancy about it.

14. How would you define your Gods? (have fun with that one)

Hah! Hahahahaha! Define my gods? Me? Oh no. No no no. I live with them, I invite them into the space where I live (I don't consider it home - home will be when we leave Texas, get to the ocean, and can breathe again), I share meals with them, and I learn about the layers upon layers of their history and personality from them, but I don't think I could ever define them. I think they're beyond definition.

17. Do you associate certain Gods with specific songs? Share them!

I have a few. I mean, anything and everything by Wardruna resonates with all the Nordic gods.

But some specifics off the top of my head:

Riders on the Storm by The Doors - Thor and Loki It's known that Thor is the god of storms and thunder, but Loki is the god of lightning, as that was his father (Farbuti, "dangerous striker" aka lightning) striking against Laufey (whose name some scholars believe means "full of leaves"), thus creating Loki - who is a god of fire and lightning (as well as mischief, chaos, change, storytelling, misfits).

Songs from the Wood by Jethro Tull - Loki

Velvet Green by Jethro Tull - Loki but also Freya and Freyr

Locomotive Breath by Jethro Tull - Odin

As you can tell, Jethro Tull is one of my favorite bands. My late brother (druidic in his own beliefs and practices) introduced me to them in full in my teens when he helped to steer me toward the Celtic and especially the Nordic gods, so I have a very reverent feel toward this band, my gods, and my brother (he was the one to introduce me to tarot and runes as well).

Those are songs off the top of my head. I'd like to spend more time with music and the gods - see which music I might already like that Anansi or Old Man Coyote would pick out for their own. Which ones Eris might choose. Which ones Frigga or Sif or Sigyn might like best.

Oh oh wait. Sigyn. Goddess of Victory, Goddess who "holds the bowl" so that Loki might survive in less pain and come out to fight for their children.

We Will Rock You - We Are the Champions by Queen - that is definitely Sigyn

I will say that it seems like they're always (all of them) pretty happy when I play my favorite bands - The Doors, Jethro Tull, Queen, ABBA, Loreena McKennitt, and I imagine they've got favorites out of all of those and the variety of SCA filk-type bands that I listen to.

Polytheistic Asks here!

[gyuphorias]

i just discovered your page this morning but lost your account lolz.…. i really love your writing i dont know if your requests are open but can i request yeounjun and the reader in missonary and he got her arms pinned but she try to youse her knees hinstead so he pits her legs over his shoulders (sorry for my bad english spelling🙃)

hi!! i'm glad you found my account again!! and your english is absolutely fine, nonnie don't worry about it at all <3

you don't know what led to this situation, but whatever it was, you want to do it again because you're almost certain that this is heaven. you wish you could remember. he's nailing you too good right now for you to think anything outside of his name, any number of pleas, and your impending releases. you don't care quite frankly. you'll just think about it later.

yeonjun is above you, his face inches from yours as he thrusts into you with a wild speed. he set this pace earlier and it's absolutely devastating you, burning you from the inside out with each sharp, punctuated thrust of his cock. his bottom lip is drawn between his teeth and you're hazily focused on the way his hair, damp with sweat, hangs over his forehead.

with one particularly well-timed thrust, yeonjun draws a debauched moan out of you. out of instinct, you reach up to touch him, trying to find purchase on the back of his neck and leverage in the feeling of his skin catching under your nails. that's wrong, though, and your fingertips barely graze his shoulder before he's taking both your hands and pinning them above your head by your wrists.

"told you, sweetheart. no fucking touching."

his voice is rough with the effort of fucking you, but unwaveringly even, which is ridiculous. you stare up at him helplessly, struggling to break out of his hold, unable to make him budge even a bit. you curse him in your head for deciding to work out more. in his words, though, you're able to recall a chunk of what had landed you here: a misplaced touch from soobin and your failure to acknowledge it.

"what's the rule?" he questions, dark brown eyes aflame with a primal sort of heat.

through broken, stuttered words, ones that take all of your concentration to muster, you reply with a meek, "only good sluts get to touch."

he nods, offering up a condescending smile as he relishes in the way your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes roll back in your head before you squeeze them shut. "glad to see i haven't fucked you completely dumb yet, pup."

he continues this brutal balance of hard, paced thrusts and degrading words, working you through orgasm after orgasm. it's driving you completely up the wall, this inability to touch him until he decides you've had enough.

you're getting close to being tossed over that edge again and you're getting twitchy with anticipation and now second nature reflexes that you can't follow through on. when all of this is over, you're sure to have bruises on your wrists from yeonjun's tight grasp. with nowhere else for that instinct to go and you're inability to think straight, you start to bring your legs up to wrap around yeonjun's waist, just wanting to touch one part of him.

like before, though, you've just barely touched his skin before he's grabbing at them. this time, he tosses them over his shoulders, pinning them between your bodies. now, each thrust is hitting deeper and you're seeing genuine stars, too fucked out to even care that you're receiving punishment at this point. you know he knows, but you also know that he's not going to do anything about it.

"i fucking told you," he growls out. "no touching. why aren't you obeying tonight? am i fucking you too stupid? hm?"

through the brilliant, drunken haze you're in, you manage a nod, sobbing up at him.

"yeah? then i'll give you a pass tonight. you've been good for letting me use your cute pussy like this," he coos, though his voice is still riding the high of being in his role of power. "come on then. one more time. you can give me one more."

you give him "one more" three more times.

[magicsunwheel]

Why You're F#cking Amazing

Pick-a-Card

How to play: pick one of the photos below using your intuition. You can close your eyes and meditate for a bit or just take a few grounding breaths while thinking of the topic. Feeling drawn to more than one is fine! You might have messages in more than one pile

Pile 1 (x) Pile 2 (x) Pile 3 (x)

My pile numbers always go from left to right, then down to the text row (if applicable)

Pile 1

Cards: The High Priestess, Five of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, The Moon Rx, Five of Rods, Ace of Pentacles

You are so intuitive! You're either very in touch with your divine feminine or are working your way there right now. Something about you is severe in the most beautiful way. You can take things seriously when they need to and the way you command a room with just your presence is unmatched. Maybe you're also a tarot reader or involved in spirituality/divination in some way. Maybe you really like Pick-a-Cards.

Something beautiful about you is that you never give up on a fight, especially when you know the end is worth it. Your ambition is strong and you will fight for what you love and what you want. You are not weak-willed by any means.

This also makes you so unique! You work so hard and put so much labor into your love even if you know it will take a long time to come to fruition. The times that you feel discouraged by a lack of results are few and far between. If for some reason you do find yourself wistfully hoping for faster results or an easier path, you can easily remind yourself of why you started in the first place.

You might have moments where you think of yourself as sneaky or like you're hiding a part of yourself from others, like your true self would be too much for them. I'm here to tell you that your intensity is exactly what make you such a beautiful person! You thrive in competition and in adversity. It gives you a chance to show off your quick thinking and survival skills. Others look at you with envy of how you can make an opportunity out of seemingly nothing!

If you need help improving your self-love, Spirit says to stop comparing yourself to others! You are amazing and beautiful and unique all on your own! Throwing yourself into the fray to compete against others who are nothing like you will only fim your inner shine. And you really do shine! When I asked for a card about why you are beautiful, nearly half the damn deck flew out!

Sprit loves you and I love you so please take care of yourself and keep making those amazing opportunities to improve your physical surroundings. (I feel like you have a very clean room/home)

Pile 2

Cards: Nine of Rods, the World, King of Cups, Three of Rods, Ace of Rods, Two of Cups

Ahh the Loona pile!

Similar to Pile 1, but much more fiery! You are resilient! Taking time to collect yourself before pushing forward with a renewed sense of energy and purpose is such an amazing and useful trait. You maybe aren't as commanding of a presence but you have such an inner strength that no one can deny.

You got the World for the reason why you're beautiful! Maybe it's related to physically being very beautiful and possibly exotic-looking. You might have very specific features associated with a certain area of the world that stand out where you live. You also have such a wonderful understanding of the world and where it's currently at. Things can seem negative or like hope is lost but you still seek out the beauty and share it with others. You see opportunity where others do not and feel a sense of peace and connectedness with all of humanity. Wow!

Your uniqueness shines in your emotionality and compassion. You might be a natural born leader who makes sure to understand all under your rule. You lead with kindness and, most importantly, by example. You don't have any desire to use you position for ill-gotten gains. Power to you does not corrupt, it solely provides a tool for you to do good in the world and really make a difference in the lives of others, whether it's on a large or small scale. You are probably the kind of person who makes sure to give money to those who need it when you pass a begging mother and her children, or buying a homeless man a bottle of water on a hot day.

Your card for why you think you are not perfect actually came out quite positive. Maybe you don't have a very low self esteem, but I can see a few possible scenarios here. You might be constantly planning in your head, waiting and watching for the next move to take but never actually getting to the action part. Maybe you're planning for your future and have so much planned out that you're excited for, but haven't made the practical plans on how to actually get there. This could make you feel bad about yourself especially on days where you're reminded of others moving ahead in their lives while you're still planning. Visualisation is very important in manifesting your desired reality! If you are moving slower than others around you, remember that it is okay to not be where "everyone else" is. Life is not a race or a competition. Taking your time to get to where you need to be when you need to be there reminds me of the story of the tortoise and the hare. Quick does not necessarily mean better.

You can improve your self-love by creating! Using your creativity and passion to make something! Create art, whether it's physical/digital art, music, writing, inventing, anything that uses those creative muscles of yours. It doesn't have to be good! Just creating something will help burn up that excess energy you have that's trying to rush you somewhere. Self-expression this way can be a wonderful hobby even if you don't consider yourself as a creative person.

Your kindness really shines through. You care so deeply about the people around you and your spiritual team cares just as deeply about you. You are loved and watched over and protected by Spirit. Others around you also see your sparkle and appreciate and admire you, even if they don't show it. Know you are beautiful and amazing and bringing a light into this world that needs to be here.

Pile 3

Cards: Six of Rods, the Hierophant, Four of Rods, Six of Cups, Ten of Swords, the Hermit Rx

Damn, who are y'all!? You've got some mighty power and pull in this world. Maybe you're a public figure or have some kind of platform, like a social media with many followers. You could also be well-recognized within your field of study/work. Whoever you are, people see you and look up to you. They celebrate you and how amazing you are! Spirit loves this about you and you really shine in the spotlight. Your achievements deserve all this pomp and celebration!

You are naturally authoritative. People listen when you speak and take your words to heart. You might also be a religious person or someone who enjoys organization and the comfort of hierarchy. People will willingly follow you wherever you lead them because they trust you with all their hearts. "A merciful ruler" (lol) You hold your position with grace and dignity befitting a king or queen.

You are unique in ways the public recognizes, but we knew that already! You might be someone who likes to entertain and you throw the greatest parties and get-togethers. Maybe you've planned a wedding and everyone had such an amazing time! You know how to relax and have fun when the time for celebrating arrives. You can out down your guard and bit and let loose. Not many people with such responsibility can let go of the reigns like that, but you don't seem to hold on to control too tightly.

Your past might be a source of anxiety for you. Maybe you're worried that what you've done when you were younger will catch up to you and ruin what you've got going on now, but it's important to remember that the past is the past. It cannot be undone or wished away. Taking time to accept what happened and recognizing that you've moved on to bigger and better things is important here. Whatever happened, take time to heal your childhood wounds and forgive past actions.

Ending this cycle will bring much more self-love to your life. Old habits and patterns being out to rest is the way forward. It might be a painful ending and something you don't necessarily look forward to, but it is something that needs to happen to clear out old energy and welcome in everything new. You can't expect to move on if you're still repeating old actions or ways of thinking. It's time to set these things to rest and evolve. Leave behind what no longer serves you.

Your understanding of yourself knows no bounds. You've taken the time to inquisit yourself and learn all of the shadows that lie there. Self-reflection might be a favored pastime for you. Through this knowledge of yourself you are able to see truths that many struggle to see all their lives. Your light can cut through the fog if bullshit and see the true source of something. Use this knowledge of yourself to become the best version of yourself that you can be! I know you're already on your way there and it's amazing to see! Spirit is so proud of you and loves you so much!

[love-toxin]

cw: injuries, yandere tohma, gn! reader

"so...how long do I have to play along with this little game of yours?"

the question spills out of his mouth without warning, yet each word is methodical, careful, like he's practiced it a thousand times before. the teapot clutched in your hands nearly slips out and shatters over the table you've laid out for the two of you, but the warmth of the porcelain fortunately keeps you steady enough until you can set it down in the space between you two. Tohma was kind enough to bring you a gift after spending awhile away, tending to his duties--so it's only natural that you would take him out for some tea in exchange. it's courtesy. it's expected.

but his question certainly is not.

"I...I have no idea what you're talking about, Tohma."

"really?"

he's sat cross-legged for some time now, waiting as you ordered the tea and offering you some idle chit-chat befitting a pair that haven't seen the other in a while. Tohma has always been your friend even when you were young, but as is custom in a place like Inazuma, your relationship has evolved throughout the years. there are things you can't say anymore, things that would ruin your life if you were caught doing them...and now, you fear, the glint in Tohma's eyes may be an omen that he's about to commit one of those unholy acts.

"come on now, sweetheart, everybody can see the truth for what it is. there's no need to hide it any longer."

he's purposely tiptoeing around the question, waiting for the pieces to click in your mind. he need not say anything at all, however--the way he looks at you in this moment, and the purpose with which he stands from his place at the tea table is enough to set your jaw tight and your eyes to darken.

"you know that I was always meant to be your husband. to be there for you through thick and thin, to care for you when we're both old and gray-"

he takes a few quick steps around it to get to you, to kneel at your side and reach out his hands to pull yours into them, and it's all you can do not to flinch away and risk the image of impropriety. but you've endured this lecture before, and the only thing screaming inside your head is for you to resist--just resist, don't listen to a word he says, and bite your tongue of any insult until he finally gives up and gets the hint.

"Tohma, stop."

"-to treasure you like no one else will. I understand your point of view, I really do--we're still young, and the world outside of Inazuma seems so big and grand...but you have to realize that the time to settle down is coming for us."

he rubs his thumb over your hand and smiles in your direction, but you can't meet his eyes. and then it's slipping out of your grasp and raising up to your face, and you feel yourself stiffen all over as Tohma gently cups your cheek, his gaze lowering towards your mouth as if he has an idea of what he wants to do. but that would be grounds for you to shriek for a guard, and you're entirely certain that that's the only reason he bites his lip to stave off the desire.

"you were always meant to be mine. you believe in fate, and you've always put your trust in me...so why not let me help you?"

that last part comes as a whisper, the tearoom private but the walls still thin. one of the many secrets you've entrusted to Tohma over the years is your disagreement with Inazuma's strict laws, as well as the etiquette that comes with being a member of the higher class. you've always despised being noble, and Tohma has always understood you, at least you thought so....but ever since he's gotten this ludicrous idea in his head, you've known even less peace than usual.

"I've said it a dozen times, Tohma, and I won't say it again. I'm not marrying you."

you do your best to spit the words out with as much venom as you can muster, yet you still feel the twinge of anxiety at snapping at him so informally. it could spell the end for you quite easily, but when your eyes are drawn back to Tohma's expression, all you can see is bliss written all over his face.

"...even laced with contempt, my name sounds so sweet on your lips. you've so much wit, so much grace, and your beauty leaves me breathless...I know how little you think of me, but-"

fury shoots through every vein of your body, and you know it's the wrong move when you slap his hand away from your face, the smack like a thunderclap in the small space of the little tearoom.

"enough, Tohma! enough. do yourself a favour and stop speaking to me--in fact, I dearly hope you never say a word to me again."

each finger on his hand twitches, only to close in a tight fist and sink back down to his lap. you try to avoid his gaze in this moment, but even turning your head away you can still feel his eyes staring right into your soul.

"you know I can't make that promise. you know that I love you."

that word makes you stiffen, your grip lock on your noble dressings, your blood turn to ice in your veins. you've avoided that for so long but it follows you like a demon, and it's eyes glow a verdant green as Tohma's words melt into your skin and eat you alive from the inside out.

"this feeling of yours....it's not mutual, Tohma. just leave it, and leave me."

you say so, but you're the one that stands from the tea table in the end, and Tohma jumps to get to his feet to follow you. he trails on your heels as you step with purpose towards the door and slide it open, the cool chill of Inazuma city in the night prickling your exposed skin. the blond hurries to get in front of you, and the moment you spot a few other citizens on the path this late at night, you tilt your head down and pray to the gods that Tohma won't force you into impropriety.

"...I see. you won't budge on this, then...I will have to accept that. but may I at least escort you home? I can't in good faith allow you to wander alone in the dark. I still care for you."

he looks down on you with a softness to his features, and you hate how easily you buckle under any sort of pressure from him. you prided yourself on not giving in before, but when you're not alone it's not nearly as easy--you have to piece your words so carefully together, and by the time you think of an excuse it will already be too late for you to reject his offer. so with as subtle of a huff as you can manage, you speak softly under your breath that you suppose that's fine, and grit your teeth as you thank him for the offer. and Tohma is all too relieved to stand beside you as you walk down the hill and leave the prying ears of the city, the silence near unbearable between you as you meander through the path cut down the middle of the farmer's fields.

"seems there's no one around. not a surprise for this time of the night."

it's not a terribly long walk back to your family's estate, but Tohma still evidently feels the need to speak up as you reach the end of the gently sloping hill. Konda village lies within sight in the distance, and you feel the tension weigh heavy on your heart as you count the steps closer and closer to safety. relative safety that is.

you're so focused on paying him as little attention as possible that you don't even take notice to his hand drawing closer to yours and his eyes wandering up and down your figure, practically salivating as the flames in his chest burn hotter and hotter, until the moment he can't take any more and he grabs you by the shoulders to stop you and force you to look him straight in the eyes.

"now, you're going to listen very closely. I'm going to give you a little gift, because I love you so very much. you get a minute's head start."

the shock catches you off guard to the point that you bite your own tongue, fear and panic shooting through you like icicles that make you freeze in place. Tohma's expression is so intense he nearly appears feral, pearly teeth glimmering in the light from the moon as he grins down at you like a predator examining their prey.

"here's the deal, sweetheart--if you can run all the way past Konda village, you win. but if I catch you, I win, and you must uphold your promise and marry me in a month's time. and if you win, you'll get your wish--I'll never speak a word to you again."

terror grips you even harder than Tohma is, and at his proposal you whip your head towards the village in the distance and then back to him. if he's seriously not making some kind of sick joke, then there's absolutely no way you would ever make it. you're not a fighter, you don't even know how to hold a sword much less have a vision, and you've seen the kinds of things Tohma is capable of....he'll catch you before you make it anywhere close.

"Tohma-"

his gaze lingers on you for a moment, before he turns you in the direction of the village and pushes you forward, only hard enough for you to stumble a bit. you want to question him, to try and talk him down from such an insane idea, but once you hear him start counting down aloud your feet move on their own and you take off in a pitiful run down towards your target. the night air whips by your face as you try to sprint as best you can, yet your robes that give away your nobility get caught on your sandals and trip you up enough that it makes your heart jump into your throat. your heart pounds in a cage that feels too tight, the air heavy and raw in your lungs the longer you fumble your way forwards in the night. even your tears feel cold as they stream down your face, and if speaking wouldn't expend your precious energy then you would surely be wailing for Tohma to stop, please, he's scaring you. especially once you hear his footsteps take off, and it feels as though his warm breath is right on the back of your neck.

but even so, you look up within moments to find yourself in the middle of the quiet little village, the lanterns dim and only the glow of the moon casting light on the humble little buildings. the panic ceases but resurges just as quickly when you remember that you're not safe yet, that the entrance to the village is still a few hundred metres away--and you can hear Tohma panting now, at a distance close enough that he'll make a grab for you long before you'll ever get there. but there's something you know that he probably doesn't remember, and it might just be your saving grace as you duck into the shadows and skirt around the mayor's house just as he skids into the path of the village. you fear in the pit of your stomach that getting the top off the well that you used to play near as children would make a great deal of noise, but you hurry forward and find it open--and just as you swing a leg over to climb inside and pray that Tohma doesn't think to look for you here, your foot slips on the stone that's still damp from the rain and your world is overturned as you fall through the air. it's not far enough that you can scream or grab for purchase on something, but when you land you hear the sickening crack of something breaking and pain that shoots through your leg so quick that it almost makes you black out.

but something worse is yet to come, and it's Tohma's voice calling out your name, before you look up to the sky and your heart just sinks as you watch his face pop into view over the side of the well.

"oh, archons--baby, are you all right?! did you hurt yourself?"

he hops over the edge quite easily and falls steady on his feat, not even having broken a sweat from chasing you as he hurries to your side and props you up in the crook of his arm. and despite still feeling that twinge of discomfort and panic from him touching you, the agony sets in so deeply that you cling to him without realizing as tears pour down your face and you struggle to breathe.

"let me see...yeah, that's definitely broken. c'mere, I'll help you up.."

just brushing the pads of his fingers over the rapidly-swelling skin of your calf makes you flinch and cry out with pain, and it's obvious by the deep bruising how bad you've hurt it--you wouldn't be able to climb out of here if you tried. but Tohma finds so little trouble in heaving you up into his arms that it's laughable....it would be funny how sincerely you thought you could get away in the first place, if you weren't experiencing the consequences now. and only now is it starting to sink in that you lost, even though he isn't rubbing it in your face. yet.

"poor thing--that was scary, wasn't it? aren't you glad I was here?"

despite how despairing you look, he rubs his cheek against yours as he holds you tight. you realize now how much he's always wanted to do this, and how he's dragging this all out while he has the chance to do it without anyone watching....it's such a rare opportunity, but you don't feel nearly as lucky as he does.

"I'll always be here, sweetie....in sickness and in health, right?"

he murmurs into the shell of your ear, before pressing a kiss to it right afterwards as he reaches out to get a foothold so he can lift you out of here. all you can think about now is how your chance of escaping him has slipped away....and now, your status is a death sentence in the hands of the man who saved your life, and will ask for nothing in return but your gentle hand in marriage. how romantic.

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Fourteen)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: injuries, death, blood, use of harmful gas, bad language

Context: (Y/n), Dwayne, Nico and Paul try to reunite themselves with David and Marko.

A/N: I'm sorry if this is getting a bit repetitive now, I promise it won't go on much longer!😅

Edited By: @jawline-of-steel

Masterlist

A hand on my shoulder wakes me, the gentle yet insistent sensation of someone shaking me from my dreamless sleep becoming apparent. I crack my eyes open to look at who it is, immediately meeting a hard grey stare as I do so, Nico's slightly dishevelled hair falling into his face slightly as he carefully tries to wake me, a grim smile creasing his features as he sees me looking at him. Withdrawing his arm, he replaces it where it was before: at the small of my back. Realising now that I'm lying on his chest, I go to roll off, hoping I haven't made him feel awkward in any way, only for him to stop me and gingerly help me sit up with him.

"Go steady, (Y/n). You're hurt, remember?" The werewolf chides me, lifting me very carefully off of his lap and onto the sofa beside him, keeping his hand at the crook of my back as I let out a whimper of pain, accidentally putting weight on my back leg.

"Yeah, thank you." I smile at him, turning my gaze to the room, where I see Dwayne and Paul watching us closely, both of them tense and jittery. Somehow neither of them look as if they've slept well.

"Sleep well?" Dwayne asks, voice sounding oddly detached, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Surprisingly, yeah. You?" I respond, rubbing my head as the events of the night before come flooding back to me, dread reawakening itself in my core at the memory.

Paul laughs, bitterly.

"Not at all." 

I nod, hearing exactly what I expected, pulling a sympathetic face as I do so.

"Do you think we can get back to the cave?" Dwayne interjects, the brunette anxious to get back to his friends.

I think for a minute, considering the dangers and odds of what might happen if we did, replying a minute or so after, noticing now how Dwayne has started pacing.

"We should be able to. If they found nothing, then the team will have moved on to the next likely spot, so there'll probably be very little risk in trying. If there is any threat, it'll probably only be a guard or two left there to catch me, but I reckon David and Marko will have taken care of them." I frown momentarily, "You guys must be hungry. When was the last time you fed?"

Paul and Dwayne look at each other briefly, seemingly considering when their last meal was, neither of them particularly sure of themselves.

"It definitely wasn't yesterday. We were going to, but then things went wrong, so we never really got a chance." The blonde reveals, scratching his head slightly, "Can we go, please?"

Unsurprised at their eagerness, I go to stand up again, groaning when a bolt of agony spikes up my leg. Frowning, Nico moves to support me, pushing me back onto the sofa with a firm hand.

"Take it easy. I'll carry you." He reassures me, getting up to stretch out his rippling muscles, his bones cracking audibly as he does so, the sheer size of him made more apparent than ever in the small confines of the safe house. The three of us can only watch in awe at the sight of the werewolf tensing and flexing some of his more painful muscles, eyes naturally drawn to him. Noticing our stares, Nico lifts an eyebrow.

"What?" He asks, looking at us all in turn, clearly confused.

"Nothing." We all say in unison, looking away again until he's finished, at which point he comes over to me and scoops me into his arms again.

"Ok, let's go." Dwayne proposes, leading the way out of the safe house and to the ladder leading up to the abandoned gas station above, where Nico briefly hands me to Paul so he can climb up and take me from him again when he's made it through the opening. Once the three of us are out in the open again, we start walking in the direction of the Bluff, Nico following on after Dwayne and Paul, who are going much faster than him, despite his broader stride, due to their nervous disposition. Neither of them say a word, choosing instead to focus on getting where they need to be, navigating the darkened surroundings with ease, using their heightened senses to the best of their ability. 

As we walk, however, I become increasingly aware of Nico tensing behind me, the werewolf becoming warrier with each step, his grip on me incredibly tight as he moves along behind the vampires. The werewolf's head twitches in each direction every now and then, listening out for any tell tale sounds, though I can tell from the set of his jaw that he has not heard anything.

"What's wrong?" I ask him softly, worried at his behaviour.

"It's too quiet, I don't trust it." He says, looking down at me momentarily.

I frown, tensing my own muscles as I realise he's right: the surroundings are silent, not a sound to be heard for miles around except the footsteps of the three walking beings, the air laced with secrecy, my gut starting to wrench as my instincts start screaming at me to run. Before I can say anything, however, I notice that we've arrived at the Bluff, the raging sea audible from here as the cool breeze blows harshly around us.

Instantly, the two vampires run forwards into the light fog that surrounds the top of the cliff, something which I've never seen before up here, both of them eager to see their friends. Nico is more hesitant to follow, only just stepping into the mist to avoid continuing on into what could be certain doom. As he does so, I catch sight of two familiar figures standing at the crest of the cliff, looking as if they are waiting for us, their features obscured by the fog, though their silhouettes are very recognisable: David and Marko.

With cries of relief, Dwayne and Paul run towards the other vampires, only to slow down when neither of the others reciprocate the movement, both of them remaining stock still. Paul and Dwayne come to a halt, calling out their friends' names, only to be met with silence, something finally clicking in my mind.

"Shit, they used gas. Cover your face, now!" I yell out to them, aware now that we've been duped into feeling safe. Nico growls and steps back, his head twisting frantically from side to side, eyes flashing amber as Dwayne and Paul turn to face us, clearly confused. As they do so, two audible whooshing noises are heard, grunts of surprised pain escaping the vampires as crossbow bolts suddenly appear, protruding from their stomachs, blood erupting from the new wounds as they look at each other, then at me, terror clouding their eyes momentarily before they collapse to the floor, unmoving.

"No!" I scream out, wishing I could go to them, horror flooding me like a burning acid, fear and panic shredding any rational thought I had beforehand, my body writhing in Nico's grip.

"(Y/n) we have to go! Come on!" The werewolf says to me, sounding oddly aggrieved and reluctant to do so, clearly regretful that we have to leave them behind, only for a yelp of pain to fall off his own tongue, his eyes widening as he looks down at the silver knife in his chest. Staggering, he tries to hold me up, only to awkwardly fall to his knees, dropping me in front of him as his hands clutch at the bloody wound in his chest, his breathing heavy and ragged, the light leaving his eyes as he looks over at me one more time, before he drops to the floor, his muscular body soon going still.

"No, no, no! Nico please wake up! Please! Come on, this can't be happening! Oh, god, please wake up!" I shriek out, tears suddenly finding their way out onto my cheeks, coursing down my face as I sob into the bloodied shirt of my best friend, clutching at him as if I can bring him back.

"And this, my dear, is precisely the reason why you are no longer suitable for your job." A cold, snake-like voice cajoles me from somewhere behind me, the sound inciting a feeling of anger deep inside me, "You know the rules."

"Fuck off." I spit, turning to face the newcomer, keeping a grip on Nico's limp body.

"Now, now, there's no need to be vulgar." She chides me, coming closer, though her features are obscured by the presence of a gas mask. I know exactly who it is without needing to see her, however, and my suspicions are only confirmed when she makes a hand signal and the gas is switched off, the fog gradually clearing.

"I'll be vulgar if I want to be." I snarl back at her, glowering defensively at her as she removes her mask.

"Maybe around the scum you consort with, but not with your superiors." Valentine Fletcher commands, her pale, gaunt features highlighted harshly in the light from the tower just past the Bluff, each alabaster plane of skin cast in a bluish hue. Her pallid hair is swept up into a tight bun, her piercing heterochromatic eyes fixed sharply on me as she nears, "Plus, if you behave yourself, your friends might stand a chance of surviving."

At this, I frown and look ober where she is pointing, my heart dropping even further when I see what it is. 

David and Marko are tied to respective chairs, their legs staked to the seats with their eyes covered in what I can only assume are holy-water soaked blindfolds, blood staining their skin and hair, their heads bowed to their chests. Behind them stands a line of black-clad Hunters, their faces masked, too, to ward off any remaining effects of the gas. Horrified, I look back at Valentine, who smiles at the look on my face.

"Well? Can we discuss things in a civil manner?" She chuckles mockingly.

Part Fifteen