#// not the eepy one but the one i cropped for this!!!
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PLOTTER / SHIPPER
taken from: nat's linoan!
tagging: flutters my lashes like a funny lil guy :eye::sparkles:
1. CONNECTIONS
write about how our muses could connect with each other! ex. what does your muse like to do that other people would be involved in? do they have interests that other people might share?
Linhardt is a Black Eagle, and one native to Fódlan. Any who decide to study the politics of the continent would easily stumble upon his house, and connections can be drawn from there (accurate or otherwise).
She is a frequenter of the library though, even if she's most often found there late at night. Aside from her chronic reading, she also likes to fish! Not competitively though. She's not that competitive.
If you can't find them in class, the library, or at the Fishing Grounds though, just wander around the monastery a bit—they're probably asleep underneath a tree somewhere. Or in their room asleep, in which case, good luck finding them.
2. PLATONIC
write about your muse and their concept of friendship. ex. how is your muse like with friends? do they make friends easily or do they find it difficult to connect with others?
Friendship for Lin is... interesting, to say the least. They'll regard you much the same as they would any other person, but perhaps with slightly less rudeness/sass (unless you're really close, then it's worse *cough cough* CASPAR *cough cough*). The chance of summoning them with the click of your heels increases by 0.5%, so that's also a neat bonus! Really, the big thing is that they'll consciously worry about you now (when they think it's necessary to worry, otherwise, you're on your own).
The thing is, once you actually manage to pin him down, so long as you aren't asking him to do work all the time, you'd be pretty alright in his book! The threshold for 'friendship' though is rather hard to pin down—one day you're acquaintances and the next you're friends. It's not really easy to draw the line.
I can't say she makes friends easily considering she... doesn't exactly try, to be quite frank (it's part of the reason the previous bullet is so nebulous). She'd be completely content being alone forever (minus that one hamster), and she doesn't really rely on others that much except to do work she'd rather not do! Actively seeking out a friend isn't really something she does. I can't say she struggles either though—there is simply no effort made at all. Alas.
3. ANTAGONISTIC
write about your muse and the conflicts they have with other people. ex: who are they on bad terms with? what kind of people do they not get along well with? how do they act around people they don’t like?
Hubert. Also Ferdinand. Edelgard to an extent. Caspar sometimes (it's a best friends thing) /j. Yeah. Yeah.
To elaborate, anybody who expects her to put in more than the minimum amount of effort gotta be joking fr! It's not that bad if it's a misunderstanding, but if you try to force it? Yikes. (Edelgard ain't that bad fr cuz she knows when to quit! Also when to appeal. She's cool ong)
Admittedly, antagonism for Linhardt is basically the same as their normal behavior, just snarkier. More witty rebuttals and sharp comments—this man can never be anything but blunt! They're already very likely to just walk away from a conversation, but if they don't like you? Ohoho!
Won't lose sleep over it though. That's a bit too much.
4. ROMANTIC
write about your muse and their relationship with romance. ex. are they searching for love or not interested in it in the slightest? what’s their dating history like? how do they act around crushes? how would they treat their partner if they were in a relationship?
Okay 'cause this is hilarious when the muse is aromantic gwahaha!
This is an aroace lil guy—completely disinterested in romance for romance's sake (because someone tell me how he tells how many different girls they're gonna have kids together in his A-supports? Also in basically every instance it's got something to do with crests and studying them. He's a bit insane).
Their dating history is completely blank. There is actually nothing to see here.
Similarly, there are no crushes for her to act different around! This one is fairly normal (<- this post was brought to you by the Aspec Gang)
As for how he'd treat his partner if he was dating—the same way he would act if they were friends? lol? Literally nothing has changed in his mind except that there might be kisses or something. (Is there a book he can read somewhere on this? Probably.)
Oh well she's probably gonna get married off for political purposes anyway. (This post was brought to you by the Noble Clique.)
#[‘practice does make perfect.’] (meta content)#[‘that was a weird dream…’] (ooc)#// hey guys#// do you remember that linhardt pre-ts cipher that totally exists????#// not the eepy one but the one i cropped for this!!!#// (i am joke jape jesting fr btw)#// man this was fun to fill out GWAHAHA!!!!#// anyways now i gotta figure out who's next :thinking:
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Silent: they have to be really quiet/hold the moan?
Listen. Listen. I didn't expect to get a response. So how about a hefty snippet (read: the first half) from Elliot and his future bf's meetcute I've been working on for months. I know its cheating, but- eepy and I dont wanna write. Plus this took me months and I'm proud of it
The tiles of the single person bathroom were cool against Elliot’s back. Where his strappy crop top and playful half-jacket didn’t cover, his heated skin pressed right up against it. He barely managed a squeak of discomfort before he was crowded further against the wall. His companion’s mouth found his; he wound his arms over broad shoulders as a thigh pressed between his own. A hand gripped his waist. Tugged him closer. The movement made it impossible to not grind down impatiently. Elliot’s next sound was more a whine than anything else.
To his utter embarrassment, the man chuckled at his little whimper. A calloused thumb swiped over his hip bone. When he pulled back to complain the man just switched to nibbling on his jaw. His breath huffed out. Fine. Fine. He wiggled instead. “C’monnnn,” he half-whispered as he was forcefully held still.
Brown eyes twinkled down at him. Then up at him as the man sank to the floor. Those warm, electric hands slid over his skirt and then under.
“Oh, fuck,” Elliot breathed. He couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.
All he got in response was a raised eyebrow as his lacy boy shorts ended up around his ankles. He refused to be embarrassed by how the sapphire color complimented the embroidery on his miniskirt and jacket. It had seemed a good decision at home, and he wouldn’t allow the dingy light of a bar bathroom make him second guess himself. Even if amusement had tipped the mouth that had been pressed against his moments ago up into a half smile.
“Think you can be quiet?” The whisper was pressed against the strip of skin revealed by his crop top. “I get the feeling you don't want to be interrupted.”
Honestly, this man could have asked him anything in that moment and Elliot would have nodded. There was something about the crinkle around his eyes, the hair slipping from the halfhearted bun to get in his face, that made Elliot’s heart do little flip flops. The hand gripping his thigh slid up teasingly; Elliot bit his lip in an effort to keep quiet.
Another kiss was pressed to his skin, this time to his hip. Finally, finally, fingers closed around him. Despite himself he bucked into the touch with a sharp intake of breath.
“Shh. Be still.” This time there was a scrape of teeth. A question, no real bite yet. Elliot responded with a little twitch. His teeth bit into his lip deeper. It was in vain. A tiny moan escaped anyway at the teasing stroke he got. Those brown eyes flicked up to his. The laughing crinkles got deeper. And then his skirt was pushed further up and the man's mouth was around him. This time he let out a strangled cry, one he quickly muffled with his own hand. Clearly he’d flirted with the right man. The man with his face between Elliot’s legs knew exactly what he was doing. Every flick of his tongue, every long drag down Elliot’s length, every finger dug into his thigh just so, was enough Elliot was trembling. He didn’t even have a name to pant.
A whimper bubbled up faster than Elliot could stifle it. He grabbed at whatever was closest and found himself with a handful of yellow and orange tye dyed hoodie. The man pulled off with a quiet chuckle. “I know you can keep quiet,” he teased. And then he dove back in like he hadn’t been interrupted. The squeak Elliot let out as he took Elliot down to the base was strangled. There was no moving against this guy’s hold, but Elliot couldn’t help twitching anyway. Surely his nails had to hurt, but the man hadn’t flinched.
It took less time than Elliot would have liked to come. The entire time the man between his legs never once looked away. He did, however, brace his hands on Elliot’s hips to keep him from sliding down the wall. There was a gentle reverence in the way he slid Elliot’s lacy boyshorts back up Elliot’s trembling thighs. He pressed another playful kiss to Elliot’s hip as Elliot tried to remember how to breathe. Even after he stood he held on for a few moments longer, as if he didn’t trust Elliot to stay upright in his stilettos.
“You good?” He asked, running a thumb over Elliot’s bottom lip. Elliot nodded mutely. “Good. I’ll be at the bar when you’re ready, okay?”
Elliot nodded again. He watched this stranger, who had just blown his mind, casually grab a smooth black stone off the sink on the way out. As soon as the stone hit his pocket the sounds of the bar came rushing back. Before Elliot could form enough of a thought to splutter at him, he was gone and the door shut again.
Well. Alright then. Elliot leaned on the sink as he let the noises of people having their drunken fun wash over him. His reflection stared back. Blue eyes wide. Makeup still in place only because Elliot didn’t waste time with subpar product. Lips bitten a little raw, and cheeks a hectic pink. His black curls would never dare to think to be frizzy, but they certainly weren’t the perfection he’d walked into this bathroom with.
Too few moments passed before someone knocked with more aggression than necessary on the bathroom door. That was enough Elliot gathered himself. He snagged his purse off the ground where he’d dropped it. The woman impatiently waiting shouldered past him like he wasn’t even there. Rude. Rather than let it ruin his good mood Elliot flounced back towards the bar proper to pay his tab.
#elliot#shhh dont tell c i dropped the whole first half#or do their validation feeds my ego like nothing else#my writing#smut sunday#asks#elliot wanting to be described and wanting his clothes described is gonna be the death of me btw#i am not naturally good at description im better at dialogue and action
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