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ravenofthefandoms · 1 year

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The Path of the Bear

Word Count: 2690 (nice)

Pairing: Leofric x Reader

Characters: Leofric of Wessex, Uthred Ragnarson/Uthred of Bebbanburg (brief), Mildreth (brief), Iseult (mentioned), King Peredur (mentioned)

A/N: First TLK post! They gave us a sassy, badass warrior that is absurdly large and slightly too old for me and since that’s exactly my type, I had to write about him. I want to make this a series as well, but I’m gonna start my Beric request after this and then my modern!Aemond fic/series to be hopefully. Also also, there’s a Grenn x reader sitting in my drafts rn. FYI, in this one I use italics for thoughts, which is new for me, so tell me if you like it! Also, I mention Grian who is, according to my five minute on Google, a Celtic/pre-Christian goddess of the sun, and specifically the winter sun. Since reader is Iseult’s sister in this, I imagine she would be a pagan, just not a Danish one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned. They belong to Bernard Cornwell and the producers of The Last Kingdom. I do not own any gifs used. They belong to their original creators.

The farmstead you had been camping near for the past few weeks was quiet. There was only one man who you ever saw near the house, and sometimes a woman was with him. Workers tended the fields and took care of the animals nearby, but they were always too busy with their daily chores to notice. You did not necessarily need to hide yourself well, typically just spending your days in the woods foraging or hunting if you could and your nights sleeping in the barn on the grounds. Once the workers all left for home after their day, the farmstead was empty save for the animals you roomed with.

It was not luxury and it was nothing like the life you grew up with. The life you had up until two months ago almost felt like a sweet dream. There was much of it you missed, like your sister and a day filled with nothing but chores and gossip. Then your sister left, married off to some king in Cornwalum for her skills as a gwarch. A mother’s gift, as your own mother called it. Something she inherited from her mother, who received it from her mother, and so on. Only you did not receive it. Your older sister, Iseult, did and she was quite powerful. Her bride price was very valuable, more valuable than you could have ever dreamed of bringing to your family. That did not stop your father’s efforts. It took two more years for him to find someone who would pay a good bride price for you. The day he told you that he found you a husband was the day you ran.

The bleating of the ewe drew you from your thoughts. A small smile formed on your lips as she stared at you, annoyed that you were laying in one of her favorite spots. You could not blame her. The hay was a nest, keeping you comfortable. “I can make room for you, but I will not move.”

Scooting over, you grinned and patted the ground next to you, as though she could understand your jest. Instead, the ewe seemed to glare at you before settling down in another little nest on the other side. Shaking your head, you settled back down into your little nest of hay before closing your eyes and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

—

You awoke early, as you have done everyday since you started sleeping in the barn. The workers woke early too, so you needed to leave the barn before any discovered you in your attempts to hold the sheep.

The trek back into the forest was quick, your surroundings becoming easier for you to manuever. Your first stop was the brook that ran through the country side. The cold water helped to pull you from the last of your sleep, waking you completely. You wanted to bathe soon, but you had not followed the brook far enough to find a spot deep enough. Instead, you began to forage for food, checking the traps you had set, smiling to yourself when two of your traps had successfully captured two rabbits. Two was too much to eat for just one meal but it would be just fine if you cooked them both now. Starting a fire later would not be smart, the workers on their way home would be more likely to see it.

—

Night begins to fall, watching from a ridge as workers began to go home. Once they were all gone, you snuck your way into the barn quickly, the final rays of sunlight twinkling through the trees. The sheep and the cows were in their stalls, along with a few new horses. You looked through a crack in the wall towards the hut. There was light coming from the house, but you did not worry. Surely it was just the lord and his wife who lived here.

It was easy to shrug it off as you made your way to a spot towards the back of the barn, where you could watch the doors with ease. As you tore into your rabbit, your mind drifted back to the last days you had with your sister.

You had wept as your elder sister held you, learning that she was leaving soon, and you were not prepared for the separation. Though you were 18 years old at the time, she was the only one who took care of you, loved you. She was always so gentle with you and always understanding. When her gifts came to her, she became your family’s jewel. Your parents preened over her constantly, your mother nurturing your sister’s gift. The work paid off and your sister’s abilities were soon sought after. It was a long time before they were sold. During that time, your sister taught you what she could, more about healing and herbs than seeing. When she did go into the woods to see, you went with her. Silence was kept between you, but you helped her as much as you could.

The last thing she said to you will always ring through your ears. “We will meet again, sweet sister.” She tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “But you cannot marry, not who father chooses. You simply need follow the bear. He will bring you back to me.” You nodded through your sniffles, holding onto her as tightly as you could. Moonlight shone on the two of you, raven hair shimmering beneath it.

Two years later and you still had not found the bear that was meant to lead you. Though you were also not entirely sure how a bear would take you to your sister. Nonetheless, you trusted her sight and would be ready to follow.

The creak of the barndoor snapped you from your reverie. A tall shadow appeared and you cursed, scrambling to a stall. The resting cow looked up at you, lowing as you approached in a crouch. You held your breath, drawing the dagger that you had tied to your waist. “Who’s in here?” A deep voice called, the signature hiss of a sword drawn from its sheath following, “I saw you. Come back out.” You cursed again before swinging out again, taking a low stance with your blade.

The man was much closer than you expected, with a torch sitting in a sconce between you. The flickering light revealed the scarred, though quite handsome, face of a very tall man. “What are you doing here?” His blade was level, though he did not appear to be very worried.

“Sleeping. The sheep make good company.” He scoffed at your answer. “What are you doing here?” You straightened slightly from your stance, trying to relax the tension. It was quite obvious to you that this bear of a man would have no trouble disarming you, let alone killing you. But there was still a chance you could talk your way out of it.

“The same, by invitation of the lord of this farmstead. Don’t think I can say the same for you,” he stated. You answered only with a shrug. “If I put away my blade, you will as well.” It was not a question, but you nodded your agreement anyways. He began to sheath his sword and you rose, putting your own blade away. “Been here long? Seem to know the locals quite well.” He nodded to the barn animals who had returned to their resting.

Another shrug from you. “A few months. They cried when I tried to leave.” He chuckled at that, looking you up and down.

“What’s your name?” You turned to look at the ground where the rest of your rabbit laid, tossed in your panic to hide. A beat of silence as you picked it up, brushing the hay and dirt from it before taking another bite.

“So many questions. I thought Saxons were supposed to be Christians and gentlemen.” You held out the rabbit to him, a peace offering. Despite having already eaten himself, he accepted.

“I’m deciding if I should tell the lord that you are here. He is not happy, and I do not think you would wish to cross paths with him this night.” There was a small twinkle of mirth in his eyes despite the serious sound of his words.

“(Y/N). Of Cornwalum. You?” He raised a brow. A Briton was not something he had expected to see in Liscumb but here you stood.

“Leofric of Wessex. Can’t save I’ve met a Briton before.” He tossed the rabbit back to you before moving to sit in what looked to be a decently comfortable pile of hay. “How’d you get out here?”

You finished the last bit of rabbit before tossing it into one of the back corners of the barn. “I walked, mostly. Ran a little bit. Even got to ride a horse for a while. Though the horse and the running were on the same day.” He chuckled at the mischievous grin on your face. “What is a warrior of Wessex doing sleeping in his lord’s barn?”

Leofric’s eyes followed you as you paced slowly, more out of boredom than nerves. He couldn’t look away, even if he wanted to. Here you were, silver-tongued and beautiful, with full hips that were hugged by the pants you wore and alluring eyes that seemed to call to him from the very depths of his soul. For a man like Leofric, you were a sight to feast on. Though a God-fearing man, the ancient and arcane feeling that washed through him when he met your eyes had him questioning. “It’s my lord’s wedding night.” He smirked at you slightly. “I cannot say that I wish to be privy to it.” His eyes flicked back up after their southward expansion when you stopped, sights locking on each other. There was a beat of pregnant pause.

“Then do not worry, Leofric of Wessex. You shall have a silent night to rest.” A twinkle mirroring his own caused the great warrior’s heart to falter a moment. Though not entirely unfamiliar, the stutter was not something he had felt in quite a long time. With a final small smirk gracing your lips, you slipped into one of the nearby stalls where you were met with a small bleat of an ewe. “I told you, they missed me.” A soft chuckle was met to that.

“If you are to hold the sheep for warmth, then whom should I?” His flirtatious words made you grin, though he could not see it.

You responded without missing a beat. “The cow seemed lonely.” He gave another bark of laughter at this, and you couldn’t help the small laugh you let out. Laying down, you made yourself cozy in the bed of hay. Snow was falling that night, and a freezing wind blew through the cracks of the barn. A shiver ran through your body as you tucked your knees into your chest, another attempt to keep the warm in. After a while of silence, you were able to finally fall into blissful sleep.

—

Grian emerged from her slumber and the early rays of her light began to illuminate the sky. Your eyes fluttered open with a yawn following quickly. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before rising quietly. Soft snores carried from the other side of the barn, affirming that the man from last night, Leofric, was still in the barn though sound asleep. With a final stretch, you stood and made your way out of the stall. Leofric leaned against the wall in the same place as last night, his head fallen to the side in his slumber. A soft giggle escaped your lips as you looked down at him. Such soft and small noises from a man so big were nothing short of amusing.

Quickly and quietly, you slipped from the barn. The gray dawn of morning held the chill of the long winter night. Soon, you were free, traipsing through the woods as you began your day.

—

It wasn’t long after you left before Leofric woke. In fact, the soft knock of the barndoor closing was what roused him. It took a moment for him to truly wake, but when he did, he shot to his feet. Leofric took a few partially stumbling steps towards the door before yanking it open. To his dismay, you had disappeared before he could call out your name. The slight ache in his heart had nothing to do, he told himself, with the fact that you left before saying goodbye or anything else.

With a sigh, he shut the barndoor again and leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes as he waited for the fog within his head to abate. One breath, two and then he righted himself. She would have been a good hump, he thought to himself almost forlornly. Deciding to give no further thought to it, he exited the barn and started for the hut where he hoped to find something to break his fast.

—

The day passed as any other, Grian warming the sky as much as she could. Her journey across the sky was unmarked yet unchanged, descending the same as it had ascended. As night fell, Leofric thanked Mildreth for the dinner in his hands, ready to make his quick escape to the barn. Pale dusk began to settle outside and, standing in the doorway, he could’ve sworn he saw a figure disappear near the barn. The air in the room was a bit… tense between Mildreth and Uhtred, but not in the way they had been when he yelled at her the day before. This was the tenseness of a wedding night, and Leofric had no intentions to find out if he was right.

“You do not wish to sleep in the house, Leofric?” Mildreth inquired politely.

“No, lady. The sheep will be missing me.” Uhtred snorted with laughter, eying his friend mischeivously.

“Taking extra with you tonight, Leofric?” There was a gleam in Uthred’s gaze that reminded Leofric of why he had wanted to knock a tooth or two out of the arseling’s gleeful smile when they first met. “Worked extra hard today, I hope.”

Leofric glared at the arseling, tilting his head at the playful challenge. “Aye lord, I did. So hard, in fact, that I think I deserve this as well.” The taller man grabbed the horn of ale from Uthred’s hands before taking a long swig. “Well, I’ll bid you good night lady, arseling.” He gave them a curt nod before making his way to the barn.

Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting across from where he had slept. “Missed the sheep?” he questioned teasingly.

“Aye. The one in the back, I’ve decided to call her Veldicca. She has been too great of company for anything else.” You were lying, of course. What you should have done was find somewhere else, gone anywhere else, but you didn’t. You came right back to this barn, and the reason for your return was now sitting across from you.

Leofric chuckled as he stretched out his long legs in front of him. Grabbing one of the extra chunks of bread that he had taken at dinner, he tossed it to you. “Have you been thinking of me, Leofric of Wessex?” A shiver ran down his spine at the teasing tone of your voice.

“Not at all.” Lie. You have haunted my thoughts all day. “I was extra hungry tonight, but I will be a gentleman and share my food with the lovely lady.” He gave you a small wink, which only made you return it with a small smirk.

You opened your mouth for a retort when the barndoor opened. Startled, the both of you jumped to your feet, hands flying to the pommels of weapons. “Leofric, I wanted to tell yo-...” Uthred stood in the doorframe, his words faltering mid-sentence when his eyes landed on you. A confused and somewhat concerned look graced his features, eyes flicking between you and Leofric. “Who is this?”

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raventroll80 · 7 months

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Stowaway

Prolog: The Shipyard

It's been a while since I last updated the story hasn't it... I wasn't too happy with how the original story was going so I've decided to do a bit of a rewrite for the story so far. We're starting off with a prolog this time, hope y'all enjoy!

Edit: this chapter contains Dead Bodies, Blood, and Death. (Sorry I forgot to add this when I posted!)

Through the thick haze of hellfire, a large bird could be seen soaring over the rubble of the city towards a shipyard. The bird circled the shipyard twice before landing on the flight deck of an aircraft carrier. A small creature jumped off the bird as it began to slowly approach a dead body. The bird pecked at the corpse’s eyes to make sure that it was actually dead, the lack of response to the birds pecking satisfied the bird who whispered in its ear before they moved onto the next corpse.

While the bird was busy checking the other bodies the small furry thing approached the first corpse. At first glance one would think the small creature was a mouse, but upon closer inspection it would appear this small creature was not a mouse, but a borrower dressed as one! The borrower in question, Em peeled back the skin from her mask and quickly got to work.

First, she checked the corpse’s pockets for anything useful, but all the person had on them was a keycard and their gun which sat in the corpse’s hand, their finger still on the trigger. Em took out her knife and searched the body for the least bloodstained parts of their clothes. Only the pants had a section that wasn’t drenched in blood, she cut out the fabric and rolled it up, perhaps she could make some new clothes with it. She hadn’t gone borrowing that many times before, only practice runs in Hiram’s store where it was safe.

The borrower jogged over to the next body and was about to search it when she noticed the bird was starting to nibble on the corpse of a demon.

“HEY! Don’t eat that!” the borrower yelled at the bird. They looked around before their eyes landed on their tiny companion. The vulture gave an indignant squawk as it dropped the arm it was trying to rip off.

“Silas told you specifically to not eat the demons! Who knows what’d happen!” The bird mocked the borrower as she scolded them, mimicking Em as she spoke. The vulture awkwardly hobbled over to her grumbling in annoyance.

Em stuck her tongue out at her companion who gave her a shove with their talon. The borrower, tripping on her tail, stumbled backwards before falling down. She gave a chuckle before getting back up and continuing to check the body.

As she climbed onto the corpse every single hair on her tiny body stood on end as bright red energy crackled through the air, it surged towards the bodies that littered the flight deck. The smell of burning flesh drew the two’s attention to the body the borrower was standing on, its eyes flew open as a demonic sigil was burned into its head by an unseen force. Em yelped as the cadaver rose causing her to fall, her companion snarled before lunging towards the newly created zombie.

Em ran towards the open hangar doors pulling the skin back over her mask as she ran, only stopping when she reached an elevator. Its doors had been ripped open and the elevator itself was missing, presumably at the bottom of the shaft. She turned around and watched as her friend looked behind themselves and then flying away before the head of the zombie they were once latched onto was pulverized by a volley of blue energy as humans swarmed the ship. Am inhuman shriek echoed from the hangar as an imp charged towards a group of humans. It leapt forwards and pinned one of the unarmored humans to the ground and began tearing them apart.

Em turned away not wanting to watch, though she knew what happened from the sounds that followed. Instead, she continued to look for cover but was interrupted by a large form that hit the wall beside her with a wet crunch. A clawed hand twitched beside her and she could hear heavy footsteps approaching.

She knew what was coming before she even saw them, her instincts screamed at her to run but the only way was down. She braced herself before taking a running start and leapt into the elevator shaft, the scream of the demon quickly faded as she descended into the darkness.

Down and down Em plunged into the darkness. Pulling hard on two cords Em hooked each line onto her harness, two wing-like contraptions extended outwards and as Em leveled out, they began to catch air slowing her decent somewhat. The borrower gave a shout of excitement and extended both hands out triumphantly, though as she did it caused her to tip forwards back into a free-fall. Looking around frantically Em saw a dim red light emanating from a wall beneath her and dove towards it.

Gods she hoped this worked.

#my writing #stowaway g/t #g/t #giant tiny #borrowers #feedback is encouraged #tw blood #tw dead bodies #tw death

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zanyzendraws · 1 year

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undertale fandom things i randomly remembered around 1 am. Or insanely specific childhood memories I hold.

- Amino back then was so fucking funny because the UT amino had featured a post where some kid I guess found a hole in the ground and went “GUYS NO LOOK IT MATCHES THIS PICTURE OF MT EBOTT” and people were losing their minds. I was losing my mind. Okay amino isn’t funny- KIDS are funny.

- PTA Sans was a popular concept and i don’t see people do it anymore. It’s funny. I miss seeing him go ham when it came to putting Linda or something in her place

- Apparently Genshin Fans are starting to find out that Sean Chiplock is the one who made the “Papyrus Makes a Mixtape” audio and it kinda amuses me. I’m the opposite. Instead of “omg this is the guy that voices Diluc” I always see Sean Chiplock’s name and go “Papyrus?”

- omg the sans and papyrus vocaloids / utauloids. The Drop Pop Candy. The Childish War. The Kangerou Days Sans cover that was made by sTEEL FROM THE UNDERTALE MUSICAL

- The Echo animation for Gaster is legendary. Also gentle reminder that the UT community led me to the Vocaloid community. Anyone else? Just me? Okay.

- there was an undertale dating simulator that was in the works and it had auditions and everything but it got cancelled (i’m not referring to bonely hearts club btw but PLEASE CHECK THAT ONE OUT)

- speaking of discontinued projects / gone tumblrs WHERE DID CRASHBOOMBANGER GO. WHERE. PLEASE. SIR. YOUR FELL VOICES WERE LEGENDARY. AND ALSO YOUR METTATON.

- Vannamelon was commissioned to play Undertale and THAT’S HOW BAD PEOPLE WANTED HER TO PLAY IT

- IMPACT. CALIBRI. TRAJAN. PAPYTON ENJOYERS RISE UP. YOU KNOW WHAT I’M REFERRING TO.

- Has anyone noticed there’s an image of Jack Black wearing a Sans shirt. If you didn’t know, now you know.

- There was a weird period of time where people drew Monika and Sans together and I guess it was due to the characters both being self aware of their respective games though it was weird looking back

- okay so idk if i’m tripping but I swore the channel pshattuckproductions had more undertale comic dubs than they do now. like they don’t do comic dubs anymore because it’s called Gaming for 2 now though the vids are still up. Though I swore there was a comic dub of Sans and Toriel at the store and Sans being a “cashmere-velvet candy cane” with what he’s treating himself with and then Papyrus is going to seemingly spoil the fun but then treats himself with a batman costume too. Where did that go. There was also a comic dub where Papyrus learns to use the gaster blasters and summons spaghetti

#zanyzen speaks #undertale

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purplekoop · 1 year

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OFFICIAL BLOG POST ABOUT THE PLANT TWINK

So uh. full disclosure, this was meant to be a breakdown of the entire blog post, but there's not anything super interesting besides one piece of concept art I ended up having a LOT to say about and another tiny piece of info I'll explain in another post.

So, this post starts off showing the ideation for the basic design of the character, see here:

Here we see a wild array of drastically unique potential Support hero designs, varied in gender, ethnicity, and costume design, which the post says culminated into the final design. Gonna throw in a bit of personal speculation on what these earlier designs might've been planned to do:

The leftmost one seems to bending water or some other kind of substance as they float slightly off the ground. Possibly could've used water to help their teammates move around the map more freely? Definitely the simplest design of the bunch, but not bad either.

Next is a... wanting to say Japanese or Chinese but not totally certain man who appears to be holding small (acupuncture?) needles and carrying a gourd jar (I think? Not sure what they're called, again not totally sure please don't kill me). My guess is that he would've had a kit based in large part on traditional medicine from (whichever part of the world it is). I'm assuming that he would've thrown those needles as an attack/healing ability like Ana's darts, and the container would be some kind of throwable burst heal/utility? All that does sound just like a mix of Ana and Kiriko though, so that's why I'm assuming he got shelved. Okay so, belated edit: the only character of the 4 that has any specific accompanying text says: "One of these pieces features an older physician who drew healing energy into his hands and blasted it into his allies, a bit like Moira’s Coalescence." I misinterpreted this for a while as being for the fourth character of the set, but I realized this was almost certainly the "Older Physician" of the bunch. If I'm understanding it right this time, I think his healing would've essentially been healing with hadoukens?? I can definitely see this working visually with Lifeweaver's healing mechanic.

The detail sticking out to me the most is that he appears to have...

a Chronal Accelerator?? Probably not, but this does seem to be a very specific high-tech part of his design. Speaking of specific high-tech design details that remind me of other characters, there's one detail that did make it from this guy to the final design of Lifeweaver:

The little uhhh. Tube thingy. Around the collar. Yeah that. I don't know what it does. But they both got it!

Third design features a woman wrapped thoroughly in some kind of vines, with a familiar-looking flower behind her body (though this one 6-pointed instead of Lifeweaver's 5, which makes her look even more like Volcarona). I'd wager this is where the devs were starting to figure out how their ability ideas would be executed in a similar means to the end result. Personal theory: This character would've ended up being another Oasis scientist and would've been headcanonned to hell and back as Moira's rebound. Good for her.

Now oohohoohohohoooo, this last one

Look at this MAN. This ABSOLUTE LAD. Frankly I'm mad they showed this guy off, because now I wish this guy didn't get shelved.

With the exception of the plant themes, I think this guy could have very realistically had all of Lifeweaver's current kit, at least in some way. The large clock emblem on the ground could've materialized into the floating platform. And instead of pulling allies back to safety with a vine, my theory is that he would've had a targeted recall, sending allies back to where they were a few seconds ago.

This also ties into my hypothetical lore theory: This guy almost certainly would've had something to do with the Chronal tech that Tracer uses. This would go along with the trend of new heroes tending to have direct ties to existing heroes, and despite being the poster girl, Tracer doesn't really have any unique ties to other heroes outside of being friends from Overwatch, so having some character with at least a shared technology tying them together would've been interesting.

So uh. Yeah sorry flower boy, but if you and this guy were dangling off a bridge about to collapse, I know who I'd be saving.

But yeah! Very interesting set of concept art, and while sadly it doesn't seem like any one of these concepts went too far, or if they did then we didn't get to hear about what happened before they got shelved, it's still super cool to see them anyways. Always happy to get a chance to analyze Overwatch's hero design process.

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #long post #lifeweaver #overwatch lifeweaver #overwatch development history

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diet-comet-soda · 2 years

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It's theory time baby! (Oh man this post got out of hand, oopsie haha)

So what do we know about Glyphs? We know that there are only four of them. We know that with the right combination of glyphs, you can perform any spell that the magic of the Isles is capable of producing. And we know that these glyphs specifically draw their power from the residual magic that still lingers in every inch of the Isles from the Titan's corpse.

"Instead of containing magic like [witches] do, [glyphs] command the magic around them. They're like words." - Lilith in Escaping Expulsion

What do we know about the symbol on King's collar? When we're first introduced to it, there are multiple instances where characters speculate that the symbol is a word of some kind. In Eda's Requiem, King even expresses a desire for his dad to "teach him how to read it".

"I've never seen markings like this... is it some kind of ancient language?" - Eda in Echoes of the Past

However, in King's Tide, we learn that the symbol is actually a spell, one that hides the user from entities like the Collector. And all of a sudden, all that talk about how the symbol could be some sort of word clicks neatly into place with Lilith's earlier statement about how glyphs are essentially "words" that communicate with and guide the Titan's raw magic. By all accounts, this symbol seems to be itself a glyph, a word that is commanding the magic around it into a spell.

But it isn't a combination of any of the four glyphs we've seen. It's not drawing upon the magic of Isles. And honestly this shouldn't be surprising considering the glyph predates the Boiling Isles Titan's death (since the Titan themself must have built the tower where they found the symbol). This glyph, then, must draw upon a much older source of magic that still lingers in the Demon Realm alongside the magic of the Boiling Isles.

Here's where we get into more speculative territory with arguments I'm less sure about.

My first thought was to look to what we know about the Collector, a being who definitely doesn't wield magic gifted from the Isles considering he literally predates the Isles.

The Collector is said to be a "Child of the Stars", which could be interpreted in the same way that Witches and Demons are technically "children of the Boiling Isles". His magic, therefore, would be a gift from the Stars. From there, you could conclude that the Stars are the original source of all magic for the first generation of life in the Demon Realm, giving birth to both the Titans and The Collector.

But then I got to thinking about the whole "Child of the Stars" thing, and I noticed that the Titans and the Collector are actually distinct from each other in a key way. Because while the Collector is connected to the Stars and other celestial imagery, the Titans literally make up the ground below. This duality is even pointed out in the season's hidden code:

As Above Rushed Darkened Skies, As Below His Father Lies

So what if the Titans are children of something else, a different and opposing source of magic as expansive and ancient as the Stars? Big speculation here, but maybe The Boiling Sea, perhaps? This source would be where King's glyph draws magic from. This would be where the Titans' powers evolved from. And this magic was then passed down to the Witches and Demons we know today through the Titans' corpses.

On another note, I wanted to mention that with this theory, it's clear that the Draining Spell did not come from the power of the Boiling Isles, but rather drew from the ancient "Star magic" the Collector uses. For one, the glyph (combo?) Belos uses to intiate the spell doesn't use any of the Isles' glyphs at all, and is intead obviously reminiscent of the Collector's aesthetic. And two, the spell's usage of the Eclipse, a celestial event, seems to suggest that the spell's magic is coming from a source in the sky far above, not from the Titan below.

Anyway, whether ancient magic is actually divided like how I've theorized or not, I think it's safe to say there's at least some sort of ancient source of magic that King's glyph draws from, a magic beyond what has been gifted by our Titan.

In conclusion...

The Four Glyphs of the Boiling Isles

The Known Glyphs of the Sea

The Known Glyphs of the Stars

#Toh #toh spoilers #the owl house #the owl house spoilers #toh theory #king's tide

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lilover131 · 2 years

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Chapter 66 Analysis

We’re finally back!! Whoooo!!!!

I was seriously pumped for this chapter after such a long wait, and I can rest easy knowing that CLAMP has more or less stated they plan on taking no more breaks until the series is done. That means things should ramp up very quickly in the future, but this month’s chapter certainly seems to set up the atmosphere!

I’m copying Cinzia’s gif of the month thing, but I couldn’t resist posting this gif to highlight my favorite part of the chapter. Haha! Without further ado, let’s get started!

The cover page this month is gorgeous as usual, but I absolutely loooooooooooove the mermaid vibe we’ve got going on here. The way CLAMP draws water, fabric, and crystals are always just so mesmerizing to me, and seeing them all so beautifully done in one place makes for a STUNNING piece! Sakura looks so pretty here, and it really sets the mood for all the pretty things we’ll see in the chapter as she continues to explore Clockland.

Sakura and ‘Syaoran’ (IMPOSTER!) are continuing their flight on the Shade card dragon, and Sakura addresses him as “Mr. Cat” again, indicating once again that she is not currently self aware. Because we know clearly that this is not Syaoran, I will refer to him as Mr. Cat from now on until it is officially revealed who this imposter is (though I believe it is Kaito as he is chaos incarnate and so very much like a cat. Haha!).

Mr. Cat doesn’t much respond to Sakura and seems very much down to business, pointing to the castle in which they are approaching. And can I just say….wow. CLAMP has outdone themselves with this castle design. It has so many layers to it with the clock, roses, thorns, gears, etc. It’s just overall very pleasing to look at and full of symbolism too. The crystal mountains supporting the floating castle very much reminds me of Magic Knight Rayearth, and I believe CLAMP drew some inspiration from their old classic when they designed this.

Sakura comments herself on specific aspects of the castle, such as the iron and stone walls but the ground beneath it being crystal. She asks why that is, which seems to imply CLAMP has made this design choice for a very specific reason. I am incredibly curious to see where they are going with that, but Mr. Cat’s serious face and lack of response leads me to believe even more that this information will be important later.

They finally land on the chessboard like floor leading to the entrance of the castle. And the page of Sakura and Mr. Cat exchanging glances is somewhat unnerving to me. Sakura looks quite pensive and uncertain whereas Mr. Cat’s expression is quite cold and very unlike Syaoran (honestly it reminded me of clone Syaoran from Tsubasa and gave me minor PTSD. Hahahahaha). Instead of answering any of Sakura’s question, he welcomes her formally to Clockland and states the Red Queen is awaiting her.

The scene changes very surprisingly to Yelan (Queen!!) back in Hong Kong. She is naturally standing under the famous Li Clan gazebo, and a light rises from the water. It is Eriol’s image appearing in the ball of light (whooo! I missed his mischievous face!). Eriol remarks that it was Yelan’s doing that Sakura and Syaoran were unable to touch each other, and I had to say that I would never in a million years have guessed that it was her!! I’m seriously so stunned. She explains to Eriol that she felt it was necessary to help Syaoran tell the real Sakura apart from a fake one. Now, I understand her reasoning here in wanting to help him better trust his senses rather than his eyes. Syaoran is naturally talented and has been praised for his fine tuned senses, but of course he can get distracted when it comes to Sakura.

That being said….

Like I’m having a hard time grappling with this, and here’s why. Take a look at these panels from the first chapter in which the spell sprung (lol, spell sprung). He is in genuine pain, and there is fucking smoke coming off his hand. This shit was strong enough to singe his flesh.

And let’s not forget that this started all the way back in Chapter 37!!! That was 29 chapters ago!!!! So my question to Yelan is was that actually necessary and why did it go on for so long? Was she only capable of doing the spell at that time before being effectively cut off? Did she want Syaoran to get used to it before this moment? I have so many questions!! And we can’t forget how this spell seemed so serious of an attack against Syaoran specifically that many, including myself, were convinced that the Squid Caln did this or at least someone with a serious hatred of Syaoran, only for us to find out it was just his mom. Lmao.

However, you truly know how fucked up it is when Eriol is coming out and saying “Was that necessary?”. Eriol, who has literally messed with Syaoran’s soul (read my post on the explanation of the tree scene if you’re wondering why I said this. Hahaha) and also used him to attack Sakura. Eriol, who constantly messed with him emotionally by saying cryptic things and once blotted out the moon and sun, sending Syaoran into a deep slumber he was not guaranteed to wake up from. ERIOL THINKS THIS WAS EXCESSIVE!

He goes on to say that Yelan is as strict as the rumors say, and she gracefully hides her face with her fan, likely taking insult to that statement before thinking to herself ‘Strict? This is gentle…’.

WOW. JUST WOW. Now all I can literally think of is that Syaoran’s training sessions with her probably just consisted of him getting his ass beat constantly. Haha!

Lord, no wonder he reacts the way he does around her!! Hilariously in @meimi-haneoka ‘s translation review, she mentions that Eriol actually uses the word ‘Spartan’ in regards to her strictness, and I am fucking dying at how hilarious that is.

Despite this, I still love Yelan and know that she dearly loves her son. She wants him to be the best he can be (although through some quite harsh methods), but it seems that it is mostly due to the importance of what he will gain from this. He is being raised to take on the responsibility of protecting the entire clan, and that’s no small task. Additionally, I think that she would not have done a spell like this if she didn’t feel that the outcome far outweighed the damage he might receive. Perhaps whatever would happen to him if he slipped up would be far worse, and this was a desperate attempt to help him see through things. I refuse to believe that she did this purely to torture her son and had very good reasons for doing this, as she was once so protective of him that she cut his hair herself when he was young to prevent assassinations. The fact that she has such intense energy behind such a calm, beautiful face is honestly what makes her so charming as a character, and I have many headcanons about her that I want to share in more detail at some point. Her placing the fan in front of her face I feel is a way for her to hide an expression she didn’t want Eriol to see, always keeping her true self hidden from sight.

The English translation on the next page is a bit off and Cinzia fortunately clears things up for us. What Yelan and Eriol are actually saying here is that the Mirror card was likely able to be stolen by Kaito from Syaoran because the card was in a weakened state. This was likely due to all of Mirror’s power not being passed successfully over to Syaoran when he executed the spell. Rather than being upset with Kaito about stealing the card, Yelan instead places blame on Syaoran for using the spell to take Sakura’s cards in the first place. This may seem harsh (are we really surprised at this point?), but she honestly is right and makes a good point. It seems that not just Eriol but his own mother were against him taking the Sakura cards onto himself, and now Syaoran is paying the price for it. Perhaps that is another reason to explain why she chose the spell she did, a slight punishment for his recklessness.

Eriol questions why Kaito always seems to be one step ahead of them, and Yelan mentions that she does not believe he is able to see the future. That certainly beckons the question of how he knows how to react every time, but Kaho (who looks absolutely beautiful in this chapter) brings up the idea that he perhaps is turning back time every single time something doesn’t go right. That means he is likely turning back time way more than we initially thought, and I honestly believe it. After all, in the anime we saw him turn back time just because he slipped up and said a detail about Fujitaka to Akiho that could have easily been explained away. It doesn’t take much of a mistake at all for him to take it back, which also really puts a lot of weight on whatever it is he is trying to accomplish. What he wants is so important to him that he literally won’t allow even the smallest of slip ups to stop it. As we know already, doing this takes a toll on his life force, and Yelan questions what it is he wants that would be worth such a heavy price. No one has an answer unfortunately, so Eriol states that all they can do now is put their faith in Sakura and Syaoran. Can I say real quick how hilarious I find it that he refers to them as “the children” when he still looks like a child himself? Lmao. It’s hard for me to take that moment seriously!

Sakura and Mr. Cat arrive at the fated fountain (I just knew it would appear here!!). This fountain and rose garden looks exactly the same as the one where Kaito met Lillie and where he also met Akiho. They are greeted by Yukito (aka the Promise card). He explains that time flows differently here, and when Sakura asks who controls how the time flows, he does not answer (I bet it’s Kaittoooooo). She also remarks about how the roses are white when she would have assumed them to be red. This is a curious detail indeed, and it leads me to believe a bit more that maybe this is Kaito’s dream world and not Akiho’s. Sakura states that she has a feeling this place is very important to someone and means the world, and Mr. Cat has a serious face when she says that, almost as if she has caught some detail he wanted to conceal. This makes me a bit more convinced that this imposter Syaoran is actually Kaito, and he quickly changes the subject, telling Sakura that they must make haste (hey, another Kaito trait! Quickly changing the subject to avoid uncomfortable conversations!).

As they walk towards the castle entrance, Yukito says with a quite ominous expression ‘Don’t forget..the promise you made’. There is something very intense feeling about this statement, and I don’t actually feel like it’s directed towards Sakura? I can’t actually think at all of any promise Sakura has made to anyone (Yukito made one to Sakura, but that’s all I can think of!). I can’t help but have this eerie feeling that Yukito is actually talking to Mr. Cat, who I still believe to be Kaito. Perhaps Kaito is being reminded of a promise he made long ago and is basically in a subtle way being told “don’t you mess this up now”. I could be way off base with this one, but I just have this feeling it wasn’t directed at Sakura.

Yukito vanishes under the fabric of the Lucid card, Mr. Cat once again reels her in, trying to guide her away from the distractions and where he wants to take her. Sakura asks about the personality of the Red Queen, which he refuses to answer, likely because it is awkward to try and explain his way around how similar Akiho actually is to Sakura.

The large doors open, and they enter a room filled with water. There are two dock-like ledges on either side of the huge room with Touya on one side and Fujitaka on the other, and once again CLAMP is showing the duality here with what I assume is red and white. This imagery still very much gives me the vibe that a choice is about to be made, and the choice that Sakura makes will impact this world and what it effectively turns into. I feel we are drawing extremely close now to the fated decision, and it is here that Akiho introduces herself as the Red Queen. This time she does not hesitate to say it, unlike how she was in the real world as normal Akiho, and I think this speaks volumes. Before, it might have felt strange for Akiho, but now she is truly the Red Queen, so when she says her name, she says it without any hesitation.

The chapter ends there, but I am very excited to see what happens. I think the next chapter is where the stakes will finally be laid out for us, and I am dying to know what mind fuckery CLAMP has in store for us. Bring it on!!

#cardcaptor sakura #clear card #chapter 66 #spoilers #manga #clamp #sakura #syaoran #yelan #eriol #kaho #kaito #clockland #yukito #analysis #chrissy talks a lot #Yelan is a badass mom #she might also be insane

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blotsburg · 2 years

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kevin schlieb headcannons bc im obsessed with him and there arent very many posts about him

-total softie

-very awkward and nervous but forehead kisses calm him down

-total mama’s boy but pretends he doesnt love her as much as he really does (100% drew her pictures all the time in elementary school)

-gets so focused on his drumming that he sometimes bleeds and his hands are numb from the drumsticks hitting the drum

-would listen to ‘tears over beers’ on repeat when thinking about how he was too scared to confess to you

-is insecure about his smile so he tries to smile very slightly without teeth bc some kid in 5th grade said his smile was crooked

-he has OCD and often does things such as turning the lights on and off repeatedly or constantly making sure he doesnt step on cracks on the ground. his parents assumed it was thing he liked doing that he just never grew out of when in reality hes does it in order to “save his loved ones.” he also unpauses and pauses videos as well as always playing a specific song first on the drums before playing any other one.

-one time when you, hunter, kevin, and emily were eating dinner at your house, you had a very colorful tablecloth. it had a bunch of random items that were all types of colors. instead of eating, kevin was just touching them all in rainbow order. you all saw it out the corner of your eye so you three looked over and saw him randomly tapping the items on the tablecloth. you, hunter, and emily all shared a very confused look. you asked kevin what he was doing and he just shrugged and said, “i just have to.” he figured it would be hard to explain. you just nodded and continued to eat. you often find yourself why he did that but kevin denies that it even happened.

-he likes being held

-he sleeps with his legs tucked in and all curled up

-loves it when you scratch his scalp lightly and play with is hair. he cannot get enough of it. always hopes that you’ll do it when cuddling.

-always falls asleep before midnight

-cant say ‘i love you’ to anybody. not his mom, dad, little brother, or you. the reason is because he’s scared he’ll give someone his all and they’ll be ripped away from him or leave him. you constantly remind him that you love him, being okay with the fact that you know he won’t say it back.

-hes a thigh guy. thigh boy. thigh man. loves thighs. we don’t know to this day why, but he just does. when sitting next to you in the car or on a bus, you bet his hand will be on your thigh. he loves being in between your thighs, his neck on your lower stomach. definitely your go-to cuddle position + he gets head scratches

-total geography nerd

-thinks baby yoda is unbearably hideous and you always have playful arguments about it

#kevin schlieb #metal lords #hunter sylvester #jaeden martell #jaeden lieberher #bill denbrough #jacob barber

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neptuneevo · 1 year

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Fella Files: #2. Koopa Troopa

The Koopa Troopa is actually one of the first fellas I actually made on stream. I sorta collect Mario action figures, and I had a red Koopa Troopa figure on hand, so it was easier for me to draw a red one rather than the usual green. Having figures of the fellas on hand as a reference actually helps a lot when spriting these.

I wanted the Koopa Troopa to have a sort of laid-back, more relaxed, and almost kinda lazy feel to him. So for his idle animation, I had him pull his arms back a little as he stands on his tiptoes, then rolls into a little arm swing as he gets back flat on his feet.

(Apologies to anyone reading this who is colorblind.)

The animation is thirteen frames but actually uses only five different sprites, which I've colorcoded here. As you can see, a big part of my animations is having certain frames repeated over a short period.

This is what the animation looks like if the frames aren't repeated. I suppose this would work if the number of frames I could use were limited, but the animation is just too fast for my liking.

By default, there are four animations in Stream Avatars: idle, walk, sit, stand, and jump. The above animation is a changing loop between sit and stand. And if you look closely, you can probably tell these are some of my least favorite animations to make. These animations are seldom used on stream and I'm pretty sure some people don't even know they even CAN sit or stand back up, so I tend to make a few lazy shortcuts during the spriting process. (Sorry.)

That being said, I am at least proud that I managed to fit some personality into the animations. I didn't want him to simply hide in his shell. Instead, he just kinda plops down when he sits, and when he gets up, he dusts himself off.

I know that having him hide in his shell probably would have been more difficult to draw, and having him just plop on the ground would seem like taking the easy way out, but that's not why I did that. Like I stated before, I wanted him to seem more laid-back and carefree, and having him hide in his shell seemed like too much of a defensive move. I'm confident that if I wanted him to hide in his shell, I could have drawn that. And I'm probably going to at some point. The point is, personality is a big factor when it comes to animation.

This variant is the Troopea from Mario & Luigi: Superstar Saga... more specifically, the remake. The original design walked on all fours, but the remake changed them to basically bluish-purple Koopa Troopas with little sprouts on their heads. There were a lot of changes in the remake that I did not care for, but this one I didn't really mind that much.

I have a feeling after a while these entries will become a bit repetitive, but again, here's a colorcoded showcase of how parts moving differently can make animations look so much more interesting. This is pretty much identical to the Goomba's eyebrows I posted previously- the sprout moves along with the main body, but when the main body stops, the sprout "catches up" and moves back to its default position.

So that's how I drew Koopa Troopas, or why considering a character's personality or demeanor is important when drawing them, I suppose.

#fella files #pixel art #sprites #koopa troopa

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mermaidmelodyedits · 2 years

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Return to the Sea (Older Mel AU)

Author Notes: This fanfic is a retelling of The Little Mermaid 2 Return to the Sea but with Melody at 19 instead of 12. This fanfic was originally posted on my deviantart, and as of 5-15-22 it HAS FINISHED WITH A PROLOGUE AND 24 CHAPTERS. You can also find it on fanfiction.net where it also has all 24 chapters and the prologue. I’ll be posting a new chapter to tumblr every week on Saturday, so look forward to that. Thanks for reading! Story starts below

P.S. Sequel scheduled to come soon!

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CHAPTER 7: Leaving

Ariel hadn’t meant for everything to go so horribly wrong. The moment she watched Melody storm out of the room she knew she had messed up.

“Oh no…” The Queen collapsed onto her daughter's bed, clutching her head in her hands.

“Ariel… darling.” The sweet sound of her husband's voice drew her attention, the handsome king standing in the doorway. In another moment he was by his beloved Queen’s side, taking her hands in his.

His deep soft voice instantly comforted her breaking heart, “Maybe… maybe it’s time. We can’t hide the truth from her forever.”

Ariel hated to admit it, but she knew he was right. She wanted to believe she could hide everything evil in the world from her daughter forever.

“Oh, Eric… You’re right. Maybe it’s time I trusted her with the truth.”

Melody had no problem sneaking out of the castle completely unseen. Wrapped in a black thick cloak from head to toe she slipped into the shadows until she made it to the shoreline outside of the castle. The beach was abandoned in the dead of the night.

It wasn’t until she knew she was alone did she finally drop her hood. The sea breeze lightly tossed her raven curls, and she took a deep breath of the salty air. Something about being alone with nothing but the sea felt incredibly grounding to her, it was always changing and yet never changing at the same time.

After a few moments of calm, the princess pulled out the golden clamshell locket. Looking at it closer she noticed a gold chain attached to the shell, just long enough to make it a necklace. After tying it around her slender neck she pried the locket open yet again.

The familiar lullaby began to play, something about it so familiar to the princess’s ears in a way she couldn’t explain. The blue orb appeared again, the underwater castle scene reappearing. Yet the scene was slightly different than last time. The water was darker, different schools of fish rushing by, different merfolk bustling through the castle.

For a while all the princess could do was watch the magic in awe, but after a while, she forced herself to close the locket. She wasn’t careful she would stand there all night. Melody had come to the shoreline for a very specific reason, there were dozens of boats tied up for the night just ready for the taking.

Melody felt bad stealing someone’s boat but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“This necklace means something… and if no one will tell me what, then I’ll find out for myself.” Melody set out for a long night of rowing, she wasn’t going to stop till she found another safe coastline to dock at. She thought being out on the ocean in the middle of the night meant it would be impossible for anyone to see her. She was completely unaware that the minute she left the shore she was being very closely watched.

Far away, in the freezing ice caverns of the northern sea, a spell was cast. The magic was nearly identical to Melody’s golden clamshell. A luminous orb appeared, lighting up the entire cave and revealing a scene playing out far away.

That scene was of a young woman, stuck on a small boat out at sea all alone. In the freezing night, she had curled up on the hard wooden floor in a shivering sleep.

“Well isn’t this just delicious? Isn’t this just divine?”A cackle echoed off the undersea walls, “Undertow! You know what to do.”

“Let’s go flatsos!” a piranha circled the enchanted orb a final time before starting to bark orders. As he began to make his way out of the caves, two massive stingrays appeared to follow him.

“Hurry Undertow! There is a poor little princess who needs our help.”

The King and Queen had falsely assumed Melody had simply fled to another part of the castle, something she had done during fights before. They also made the mistake of believing she had no way of escaping the castle, they had too much faith in the castle guard. Melody had already been evading them for years at that point.

Only about an hour after Melody had stormed out of her room did a search begin to find her. At first, no one was worried, figuring she would show up somewhere in the castle. It wasn’t till a couple more hours passed I’d everyone begin to panic.

It was Carlotta that finally broke the news to the King and Queen.

Desperation filled the Queen’s voice, “What do you mean she is gone? Search the castle again! She has to be here somewhere.”

“We have searched the castle three times, your highness… She is nowhere to be found. We believe she is not on the grounds.”

Panic began to set in Ariel’s heart, “Where could she possibly be going?!”

“Going to Morgana’s? And you think she could tell me what this locket means? Why it has my name on it?”

Melody had been lucky enough to meet a friendly piranha fish out at sea, and he had offered to help her.

“Oh, sure kid! Morgana is the best, she’ll help you for sure.”

A small amount of hope bloomed in Melody’s chest, finally, something was going her way.

“Wow, thank you! I’d love to go meet her.”

The second she spoke, two stings appeared just below the surface of the water. Their long tails winded around the ropes attached to her boat, and they towed her along as they swam. They followed faithfully behind the piranha but stayed quiet the entire time.

The piranha flashed her a toothy grin before swimming ahead, “We got a long way to go kid, why don’t you just relax? You look like you need it, princess.”

Melody didn’t remember telling him she was a princess, but perhaps it was a nickname he used for everyone...

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instavipbios · 2 months

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How to Chat With Girl on Instagram A Beginner's Guide

Social networking sites like Instagram have developed into vital resources for interacting with people, meeting new people, and even developing love connections in the current digital era. But for a lot of people, learning How to Chat With Girl on Instagram might be scary and difficult.

We Will Try to find out How to Chat With Girl on Instagram by the Help of 7 Easy Tips

Do not worry if you find yourself in this predicament! Whether the female is someone you know or someone you've never met, this in-depth article will show you how to chat with unknown girl on Instagram in Hindi or English and offer helpful advice on how to start a discussion. 1. Start With a Compliment Comment on Her Pictures or Story

One of the simplest yet effective ways to start chatting with unknown girl on Instagram is by complimenting her photos or stories. However, it's crucial to be genuine and specific in your compliments to stand out from the crowd. For example, if she posts a stunning travel photo, you could comment, "Wow, your adventurous spirit shines through in this breathtaking photo! Where was this taken?" Remember, a thoughtful compliment can spark a meaningful conversation and make her feel appreciated. 2. Entertain her with funny reels or Memes

Humor is a universal language that can break the ice and create instant rapport. Show off your playful side by sharing funny reels or memes that align with her interests or sense of humor. For instance, if she's a fan of cute animal videos, you could send her a hilarious cat meme or a witty reel that's sure to make her smile. By sharing lighthearted content, you'll not only entertain her but also demonstrate your personality and creativity. 3. Try a Cheesy Pickup Line With Humor

While cheesy pickup lines may seem cliché, when delivered with a hint of humor and self-awareness, they can be surprisingly effective conversation starters. Choose a playful pickup line that reflects your personality and style, and don't be afraid to embrace the cheesiness. For example, you could send her a cheesy line like, "Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?" accompanied by a playful emoji. The key is to keep it light-hearted and not take yourself too seriously. 4. Track she sees your story or photos

Instagram provides insights into who views your stories and photos. While you don't want to obsess over this, it can give you an indication of her level of interest. If she frequently views your stories or likes your posts, it could be a subtle cue that she's open to engaging with you. Use this information to tailor your approach accordingly. 5. Reference Mutual Followers for Starting the Conversation

Finding common ground can instantly create a connection and make it easier to strike up a conversation. If you and the girl share mutual followers or interests, use this as a starting point for conversation. For example, you could mention a mutual friend or follower and ask if she knows them or share your thoughts on a topic you both have in common. By referencing mutual connections, you'll demonstrate your genuine interest in getting to know her better. 6. Introduce Yourself Sincerely

how to chat with unknown girl on Instagram When trying to Chat With Girl on Instagram, it's essential to introduce yourself sincerely and respectfully. Avoid generic messages or pickup lines and instead opt for a genuine approach. Share a bit about yourself, such as your interests, hobbies, or what drew you to her profile. For example, you could say, "Hi , I came across your profile and was captivated by your passion for . I'd love to get to know you better if you're open to it. 7. Take your time to make her comfortable

How to Chat With Girl on Instagram Lastly, it's essential to be patient and respectful when chatting with a girl on Instagram. Avoid putting pressure on her to respond immediately and instead focus on building a genuine connection over time. Take the time to listen to her responses, ask thoughtful questions, and show empathy and understanding. By creating a comfortable and relaxed atmosphere, you'll make it easier for her to open up and engage in meaningful conversation. Finally, it doesn't have to be difficult to discuss how to start a chat with a girl on Instagram. You can approach her with assurance, sincerity, and deference if you adhere to these procedures and advice. Recall to give priority to sincere connection and meaningful conversation whether you're interacting with her material, messaging her directly, or joining groups related to your shared interests. You can encourage pleasant conversations and possibly establish a long-lasting connection with the female you're interested in if you're patient and sincere. Cheers to your conversation! Read the full article

#ChatWithGirlonInstagram #HowtoChatWithGirl #HowtoChatWithGirlonInstagram #Instagram

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crossbowking · 3 years

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More Than Anything (Part 2)

(Click HERE to read More Than Anything Part 1)

Summary: (Set mid-season 6) The reader’s feelings towards the archer evolve, but a supply run that goes south threatens to destroy it all.

Request: “I’d love to see something w protective Daryl and some angst, maybe set at the start of their time in Alexandria w an established relationship?” - @pulplorrd

A/N: See, you'd think I would've learned after making you guys wait a year and a half for No Way Out Part 2, that I should probably FINISH my stories before actually posting the first part...yet, here we are, one month later lol I'm sorry for the wait but hopefully it's worth it!

Happy reading and let me know what you think :)

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

Previously...

But as its grasp slipped away from around Tara’s arm, the walker’s deadweight, in turn, collapsed against you.

You lost your footing and fell backward.

Except the solidity of concrete never rushed up to meet you.

Instead, you were embraced by water, the tarp that’d laid across the motel pool coiling around your body as you sunk deeper and deeper into nothingness.

Now...

When the world ended, you’d accepted the idea of death — your death, specifically.

You knew that one day, your life would undoubtedly end — most likely at the hands of the dead, ripped to pieces, torn to shreds, the way so many others before you had been taken. But you’d always hoped your death would at least mean something — maybe laying your life on the line, sacrificing yourself so the people you loved could survive.

Something noble, something brave.

Not like this.

Before the fall, you’d managed to inhale a sharp breath — though once you’d submerged into the grimy pool water, the coldness, the darkness, the shock of it all, had zapped the air right out of your body. You were becoming increasingly aware of the tightness in your chest, the burning in your lungs as you struggled against the walker pressed against you, its weight sinking you further into the depths of the pool.

Then, the panic set in — your heart pounded against your ribcage, right alongside the immense pressure crushing your lungs. Glimpses of sunlight hung just above you, peeking through parts of the drifting tarp you frantically attempted to push aside. You were completely disoriented, your vision obscured by the murkiness surrounding you, floating specks only visible beneath the shattered light above.

When your back connected against the bottom of the deep end, you managed to wriggle out from under the dead’s listless body — though the tarp remained twisted around your limbs. No matter how hard you fought, how hard you struggled, you couldn’t free yourself from the suffocating material. You could’ve sworn you were caught in a dream, your movements lagging and sluggish as you thrashed beneath the surface.

It felt as though someone had reached their hand directly through the center of your chest, squeezing your insides in a vice-like grip. A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, settling atop your churning stomach as the throbbing behind your ears began to slow.

You were listening to your last heartbeats.

It became unbearable, the water threatening to force its way past your clamped lips, the simple need to breathe. A sharp stab of pain shot through you as the blackness in your vision intensified, pulsing reddish-white around the edges as the fire in your chest consumed you at last.

Then, with nothing else left to do, you inhaled.

You weren’t sure what happened next — everything felt faint and fuzzy and quiet. The darkness that lingered no longer struck fear in you — instead, it was warm, enveloping you in its arms like a long-lost lover. The silence was soothing as you drifted in the emptiness, like careless whispers and forgotten melodies. You were weightless, you were freed, you were everything and nothing all at once.

You were dying.

That you were sure of.

Yet much to your surprise, you weren’t afraid — no, instead…you felt at peace.

But the brevity of calm didn’t last as you were suddenly aware of a vague pressure, though it wasn’t all-consuming nor constant. It was distant at first, a feeling you could’ve easily brushed aside had it not begun to gradually grow in force, in vigor — a steady pounding, coming from the center of your chest, over and over again.

The warmth around you began to splinter, shattering like shards of glass, the fallout piercing your skin as it collapsed around you. The pain was deep and burning and you longed for just a moment ago when all you felt was the sweetness of oblivion. The pressure pounding against your chest increased, becoming the sole thing you could feel, the only thing you could focus on, the unwavering thuds drawing you back from whatever place you’d drifted off to.

In the next moment, you were awake.

Your body flailed, jolting upright, but you’d only managed to get an inch or two off the ground before water began to suddenly spurt from your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as you choked on the liquid, every nerve ending in your body red-hot. You were vaguely aware of hands, rough and calloused and familiar, gripping onto your arms and forcing you onto your side, the motion allowing the water leaving your lungs to flow easier.

You gasped a constricted breath, coughing harshly on the exhale, completely and entirely disoriented as to what in the fuck just happened. Your chest tightened as you spit up more water, your throat closing around the sensation as you fought for control of your breathing, the feeling of concrete against the side of your body grounding you.

When your coughs finally died down, the same hands from before grabbed onto your arms, pulling your deadweight upright, maneuvering your limp body as if you were a rag doll. You blinked your bleary eyes open, wincing from the sunlight directly above as you drew in shaky breaths.

And then you saw him.

Daryl knelt in front of you, his ragged breathing mirroring your own, soaking wet from head to toe. Strands of hair stuck against his forehead, droplets of water still dripping from the ends as he stared at you, wide-eyed, his expression a mixture of horror and shock — something you rarely witnessed when it came to the archer.

He was mouthing something — no, he was shouting something — but you couldn’t hear him. You couldn’t hear a damn word he was saying as you sat there, dazed and confused, wondering if what just happened actually happened.

His hold around your arms slipped away, his hands cradling either side of your face instead, tilting your head up and brushing your drenched hair back. He leaned forward a fraction, frantically studying your features, his haunted eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as though making sure you were there — really there.

The silence was becoming a little less resounding, the world around you gradually seeping back, though muffled and dull — but the way Daryl was looking at you, the apprehension in his gaze, shook something loose inside you. Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to tell him it was okay — that you were okay — but damn it, why couldn’t you speak?

So instead, you slowly lifted your hands, weakly grasping onto Daryl’s wrists, the small motion all you could muster — you had to let him know you were here. He glanced down at your hands, a small huff of relief escaping him.

But when he looked back up, you noticed the moisture that’d built in the corners of his eyes.

Daryl’s hands slipped behind your head, holding you still as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead gently against yours.

You, on the other hand, silently thanked whatever God or higher power was out there for giving you one more moment like this.

When the archer pulled back, you spotted a red streak smeared across his forehead that hadn’t been there before. Your brow knitted together as he sat back on his haunches. You tried clearing your throat, the sensation burning the rawness that’d spread. “You’re —” you croaked, your voice sounding foreign. “— you’re bleeding, D.”

Daryl’s expression darkened, his jaw clenching as he lowered his gaze and unsheathed his hunting knife. “It ain’t mine,” he rasped, suddenly slicing a long strip of fabric off from the bottom of his dampened shirt and balling it in his fist, ringing out some of the water.

Before you knew what was happening, he was reaching forward, pressing the material gingerly against your forehead and wrapping it behind your head, tying the strip into a knot to keep it in place. You were surprised at the sting of pain you felt, unsure when you managed to cut your head open in the midst of what had happened — everything was still sort of…fuzzy.

The sound of a car door slamming drew your attention. You peeked out of the corner of your eye, spotting Tara jogging towards you, the car you’d driven to the motel running idle in the parking lot.

“They’re coming!” she called out, motioning towards something just behind Daryl.

You craned your neck, attempting to get a look, but before you could, the archer was looping his arms beneath your armpits and hefting you up to your feet. The world tilted unsteadily around you, and had it not been for Daryl’s hold, the ground would’ve surely rushed up to meet you.

“I got ya,” he rasped, slinging one of your arms across his shoulders, his grip snaking around your waist.

Tara appeared at your opposite side, slightly out of breath. “Welcome back, chicka,” she shot you a slightly strained smile before following Daryl’s lead and winding your other arm across her shoulders, keeping you propped upright between them.

You wanted to tell them you were fine, that you were more than capable of walking on your own — but your strength had depleted, your legs shook beneath you, and the shock was beginning to wear off, making all the little aches and pains in your body alarmingly obvious.

Then, you were moving.

They half-dragged, half-carried you across the stretch of concrete, hurrying towards the parking lot where Tara had left the car. You peeked over your shoulder, managing to get a glimpse of what you were leaving behind — the small herd from earlier had been taken down, their bodies splayed out sporadically on the other side of the pool. Some sporting knife wounds, others bullet holes. The pool itself was rippling, the water sloshing back and forth, air bubbles visible at the surface.

Some of the dead had followed you into the water.

Just beyond the pool, you spotted exactly what you were running from — another herd, three times the size of the first one, ambling in from the woods behind the motel, most likely drawn in by gunfire.

When you reached the car, Tara slipped away and jumped into the driver’s seat. Daryl flung open the back door and maneuvered you carefully inside. You grimaced as you inched further into the car, only stopping once your back was pressed up against the opposite door. The archer quickly slid in after you and slammed the door shut, grabbing onto the back of the driver’s seat as Tara peeled out of the parking lot.

The silence that followed rang heavy.

Your heart hammered against your chest, your breaths coming out slightly wheezy, almost like there was still some water left in your lungs. You met Tara’s eyes in the rearview mirror before she focused back on the road — you noticed then that the sleeves of her shirt, up to her elbows, were wet.

She’d helped drag your body out of the pool.

You glanced over at Daryl, the archer’s grip on the driver’s seat white-knuckled as he stared at the back of the headrest. Waves of tension rolled off him, the feeling nearly palpable. But his eyes flickered towards you a moment later, as though he felt you watching him, and some of the rigidity faded.

He wordlessly shuffled closer, grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the door you leaned against. You were too tired and too sore to object, your body slumping against his side as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders — you thought for a brief moment that he was hugging you.

But instead, he wound your seatbelt around your body and locked it in place.

Daryl fell back against the seat beside you with a huff, keeping his gaze focused ahead, staring straight through the windshield. He didn’t look at you again — he remained still, like he was carved from stone. You weren’t even sure he was breathing. His arm just barely grazed the side of yours, but despite whatever hidden turmoil was surely happening inside of him, he made no effort to move away.

He needed time to process what happened — what almost happened.

But so did you.

You shifted, closing the small gap between you and resting your head against his shoulder, ignoring the way he stiffened. The material of his shirt was still damp and smelt like a mixture of chlorine and mildew from the murky pool water, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away either.

You hadn't realized you’d dozed off until the archer gently shook you awake, the car now parked outside Alexandria’s makeshift infirmary.

You still felt weak and lethargic, but you managed to make your way inside without any help — although Daryl, silent and stoic as ever, remained at your side, his hand hovering over the small of your back.

The infirmary was quiet as Denise checked you over — Tara had gone to update Rick and the others on what happened, as well as distribute the supplies you’d managed to bring home. Daryl, on the other hand, paced — back and forth, like a caged animal, on the opposite side of the room. Almost like part of him desperately wanted to run, but a bigger part of himself needed to be there.

“Are you feeling any nausea? Confusion? Loss of basic motor skills?” Denise suddenly asked, breaking the silence that’d stretched on, looking up from the textbook she was reading from. She’d never dealt with an ‘almost drowning’, but had been able to scrounge up some old medical textbooks for help.

“Uh,” you cleared your throat, shaking your head once. “No. No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, good. Yeah, that’s good…” she murmured, mostly to herself, before flipping to the next page and skimming the stretch of words. “Besides your forehead, any other lacerations?” she looked up at you once more, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t —” you shot Daryl a look, but he was too busy pacing to notice. “I don’t think so,” you shook your head again, your fingertips ghosting over the bandage Denise had patched your head up with.

“Good, good. We’ll want to keep an eye on that in case of infection,” she informed before flipping to the next page, mouthing the text to herself. “Okay, and any soreness?”

You grimaced as you sat up a little straighter. “Just — just right here mostly,” you admitted, motioning towards your center, below your chest.

Denise shut the textbook and placed it on the metal table you sat on top of. “Can you show me?”

Your brow knitted together but you obliged, sliding off the table and grabbing the hem of your shirt. You fought back a wince as you rolled the material up, stopping just below your chest, exposing your skin.

The first thing you noticed was the way the room suddenly stilled — you glanced up, spotting Daryl standing frozen across the way, pacing no longer. But he wasn’t staring at you — he was staring at your midsection, a look in his eyes you’d never seen before.

When you lowered your head, getting a good look at yourself for the first time, you realized exactly what he was seeing.

Bruises. Dark and discolored. Scattered down your sternum and along the center of your ribcage.

Your head snapped up at the sound of the front door slamming shut.

And Daryl was gone.

You tried to ignore the pinprick of tears that grew, the hurt that settled across your chest as you lowered your shirt back in place — but when Denise suddenly reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, patting it softly, your features crumpled.

Everything that happened seemed to catch up to you in that moment — the fear, the shock, what Daryl must’ve felt pulling your unmoving body out of the water. You’d nearly died. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t been able to bring you back? Would he have been the one to put you down when you undoubtedly turned? Or would Tara have done it — the act far too painful for the man you loved to follow through with.

The man you loved.

Denise wrapped her hand around yours, squeezing gently and drawing you back. “Hey, it’s okay,” she soothed.

You quickly swiped at the tears that slipped down your cheeks, huffing a hitched breath. “I know, I’m just —” you glanced up at the front door, hanging onto the foolish hope that it’d swing open once more. “I don’t know,” you finally mumbled, albeit defeatedly.

Denise followed your gaze, scoffing slightly. “Men suck,” she finally shrugged.

You sniffled softly before shaking your head. “Not that one,” you murmured fondly.

Denise squeezed your hand once more, shooting you a sympathetic smile before she pulled away. “It could’ve been worse — most people who have CPR done on them end up with broken ribs or punctured lungs. You, my friend, are one of the lucky ones.”

You inhaled a deep breath, fighting back a wince, the motion stretching your bruised body. “Thank you. For everything.”

Denise nodded before taking off her glasses, using the hem of her shirt to clean the lenses. “Y/N, I don’t mean to overstep my boundaries, but,” she paused, sliding her glasses back on as she regarded you seriously. “You smell like a sewer rat.”

You faltered, completely caught off guard by her statement before remembering that you were still wearing damp, swampy, pool water clothes. Then, despite everything, a laugh slipped past your lips, breaking the tension. You let out a hiss as the movement sent a wave of pain through you. “Ow, fuck, don’t make me laugh,” you bit back another chuckle, lightly swatting her arm.

Denise smiled before motioning towards the door. “Go home, shower, get some rest — Doctor’s orders,” she grinned, turning away and beginning to clean up her workstation.

You thanked her again before hobbling out of the infirmary.

As night drew near, most residents of Alexandria were already in their respective homes — you were grateful for that. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, their worry and endless questions something you were more than happy to put off until tomorrow.

When you made it back to the apartment you and Daryl shared, you were, yet again, fighting back feelings of disappointment — he wasn’t home. You felt a pinprick of worry, but knew he needed time and space to process whatever it was he was feeling.

And when he was ready, you would be too.

You walked through the kitchen, the morning you’d shared earlier feeling like a lifetime ago — the pan he’d used to make eggs, now dry, remained sitting on the counter. The bedroom was untouched, looking exactly how it had this morning, just the way you’d left it. You grabbed a fresh set of clothes before making your way into the master bathroom attached, ignoring the bone-deep tiredness settling over you.

Showering was a good call — the warm water rained down as you scrubbed your body of the muck that clung to you, being extra careful not to get the bandage on your head wet or make any sudden movements. When you were finished cleaning up, you stood beneath the shower head for a few minutes, eyes closed, inhaling the steam around you with deep, calming breaths.

You were okay. You were alive. You were here.

You shut off the water, stepped out of the shower, and dried yourself off, gingerly patting down your chest and around your ribs, before slipping into clean clothes. You wiped away some of the steam that’d collected on the bathroom mirror before hanging up your towel, combing out your knotted hair, and brushing your teeth — the same routine you did every night.

The normalcy was soothing — you were already beginning to feel better, more like yourself. You were ready to put what happened behind you and move forward, sure to never take another day for granted.

But when you opened the bathroom door, ready to curl up in bed and doze off, all of your feelings from earlier came rushing back at the sight of Daryl.

Once again, he’d been pacing the length of the bedroom, only stopping after you’d entered the room, his gaze snapping towards you. He shifted his weight back and forth, opening his mouth before clamping it shut. You could feel his energy, rolling off his body in waves — tense, rigid, wild. He was struggling to say whatever was on his mind, only furthering his evident frustration. He flicked his hair away from his eyes, turning to face you head-on, clearly gathering up the gall to speak.

You took a small step forward. “Daryl —”

“Ya were blue,” he suddenly rasped, a fire in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Tara was shoutin’ for ya an’ I — when I went in an’ pulled ya out, there wasn’t — I didn’t —” he huffed a breath in frustration, his face tinged red. “God, damn it, Y/N, ya were fuckin’ blue,” he finally growled, chest heaving, hands balled into fists at his side.

His anger wasn’t directed at you, but the situation itself, you knew that. But still, his words — or more so the emotion, the truth hidden behind them — had you recoiling from him, your heart breaking at the thought of what he’d seen, of what had run through his mind when he realized you weren’t breathing.

You couldn’t imagine how scared he must have been.

And that was what was beneath his outburst — not rage, but fear.

But he wasn’t finished with what he needed to say — if anything, he was just getting more and more worked up as he began to frantically pace once more. “This is why — I fuckin’ told ya — I didn’t need ya comin’ out there. I didn’t need ya on that run but ya — ya didn’t listen ta’ me an’ then —”

“I love you.”

Daryl stilled, mid-stride, his gaze widening as if all of the air had been sucked from his lungs.

You felt your face flush, the air between you so thick it could be cut with a knife. You hadn’t meant to say that aloud, but the words just sort of…tumbled out? And now, there they were, hanging between you. Part of you wondered if the archer could hear your heart pounding from where he stood — or maybe it was his heartbeat, synched up to yours.

You sputtered a soft breath, shaking your head in disbelief, trying not to panic because the last thing you wanted was for Daryl to look at you the way he was looking at you after telling him you loved him. “I’m —“ you took a breath, regarding him earnestly. “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. And I promise — I promise — you do not have to say it back. Hell, you don’t even have to feel the same way,” you huffed an awkward laugh, but the noise hitched somewhere in your throat, betraying your words. You grew serious once more. “I just — I couldn’t have another night going by without you knowing. Not after what happened today,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, shrugging a shoulder up meekly. “So, I love you — I love you more than anything.”

You weren’t sure what sort of reaction you were expecting from him. But you absolutely refused to acknowledge the tiny part of you that secretly wished he’d swoop you into his arms, pull you close, tell you he loved you too — because that wasn’t Daryl. That wasn’t the type of man he was — and you were okay with that.

Because you hadn’t fallen in love with that type of man.

You’d fallen in love with the man standing shell-shocked in front of you.

You cleared your throat and stepped forward, moving away from the bathroom doorway. “The shower’s all yours,” you murmured, needing to break the uncomfortable silence that carried on.

You sidestepped around his frozen form, ignoring the way your legs shook like jelly beneath you as you made your way towards the bed. You took a seat on the edge of the mattress, keeping your back towards him, staring ahead at the blank wall in front of you instead.

After what felt like forever, the floorboard squeaked beneath the shifting of his weight, his footsteps growing faint as he slowly walked away and entered the bathroom, closing the door shut after him.

You strained your ears, listening for any movement beyond the door he’d disappeared behind — but you heard nothing. It was like you could feel him through the panel of wood between you — you could almost picture him, just standing there, trying to process whatever the hell was going on inside that mind of his.

A moment later, the shower turned on.

And you released the breath you’d been holding.

Exhaustion swept through you, the day’s events wearing you down. You carefully maneuvered yourself into bed, pulling a thin sheet over your body and settling onto your side. Your eyelids grew heavy, the sound of the shower lulling you to sleep despite the strange, sort of freedom your admittance had brought you, the feeling buzzing through your veins.

You didn’t regret your vulnerability — he needed to know he was loved, damn it.

When you heard the shower turn off, you snapped your eyes shut. You listened to the archer move about the bathroom until the door finally creaked open. He seemed to be just standing there, and you could’ve sworn you felt him staring at the back of your head as if he was gauging whether or not you were actually asleep. But a moment later, you heard his footsteps padding across the bedroom before the mattress dipped beneath him.

You held your breath, covers drawn to your chin as Daryl shifted in bed, eventually lying down beside you. Another beat of quiet passed, neither of you moving, nor breathing it seemed.

But then suddenly, you heard him speak, so softly you almost missed it. “I know ya ain’t sleepin’,” he rumbled.

The corner of your mouth quirked up — because of course he knew.

You sighed, shifting gingerly onto your back, the sheet pooling at your waist as you looked over at him. He laid on his side, facing you, propped up on his elbow. He was dressed in clean clothes, his hair still wet from the shower, pushed back out of his face.

He really was rather beautiful.

“Busted,” you smiled, though the archer’s expression remained solemn.

Ever so gently, he reached towards you, his fingertip grazing the material of your shirt, over your ribcage, below your chest, hovering the bruises that lingered. “Does it hurt?” he rasped, the mouth turned downward into a small frown.

You shook your head. “Not really.”

Daryl’s eyes met yours, his expression skeptical and knowing.

You never were a good liar.

“At least you didn’t break a rib?” you offered sheepishly, your lame attempt at a joke falling flat given the current audience.

But when Daryl’s features fell, a flash of what looked like guilt settling over his face, you placed your hand on top of his, resting them against your stomach. “Don’t do that,” you murmured, reading him like a damn book as you rubbed circles with your thumb over the back of his hand.

The archer grumbled something indistinct, staring down at your intertwined hands.

Your grip tightened around his. “I mean it,” you spoke, an edge to your voice, only softening when he looked at you instead. “You saved my life, D — that’s it. You can let go of anything else you’re holding onto.”

Daryl’s lip twitched as he chewed on the inside of his cheek, seemingly mulling over your words.

You were sure he’d hang onto whatever unnecessary guilt he carried — because that was just who he was — but eventually, he nodded once and settled down on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You were too tired to press the subject further so you curled into his side and rested your head against his chest, winding your arm across his midsection. His arm automatically wrapped around you, his fingertips trailing absently up and down your spine, sending shivers through your body.

You weren’t sure how long you laid like that, melting into the warmth he exuded, the steady pounding of his heartbeat easing you to sleep.

You’d nearly faded away when Daryl suddenly spoke.

“Did ya mean it?” he rumbled, the noise vibrating from deep within his chest. “What ya said before?” he grunted, his hand pausing at the small of your back.

You could’ve imagined it, but you almost felt the slight tremble of his fingertips against your skin.

You slowly pushed up onto your elbow, your faces mere inches apart. You searched his uncertain gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Of course I meant it,” you whispered. “Every damn word.”

Daryl’s eyes narrowed, as though not entirely believing what you said could be true.

So you leaned forward, closing the remainder of space between you, and pressed your lips gently against his. He returned the kiss, a quiet desperation growing as one hand came up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb sweeping back and forth across your cheek. You broke away from the kiss, brushing his hair back before meeting his lips once more, settling your hand on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath your touch.

When you pulled back, you noticed his skin flush, surely mirroring your own. He looked up at you, slightly breathless, a fondness in his gaze that sent your stomach somersaulting. He cleared his throat, the ghost of a smile flickering across his face. “Well, alright,” he finally resigned, accepting your answer to his question.

You snorted a breathy laugh, leaning forward and kissing his cheek before burrowing against him. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as Daryl’s hold tightened around you, as though afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t.

You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of contentment, unsure how many more moments like this you, or anyone else for that matter, had left in this kind of cruel and harrowing world.

But for at least tonight, you could be at peace.

“I love you,” you murmured groggily, beginning to sink deeper into unconsciousness.

Right before sleep came, long after Daryl thought you’d drifted away, you heard him whisper three, simple words.

“More than anythin’.”

Then he pulled you closer and the world dimmed.

A/N: Aw...a happy ending! (I figured I owed ya after putting y'all through Honey & Whiskey lol)

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know!

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meruz · 3 years

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once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous)

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL.

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close.

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

#ask #trying this new thing where i tag people in the body of the post instead

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